My f*ckng number ain’t unlisted. Call!

To Secretary of State John Kerry:

Like everyone else around the world I watched the terror attacks in Paris unfold on Friday with a sense of shock, dread and anticipation.

Shock at the horror that was unfolding.

Dread at the loss of life.

Anticipation knowing that my phone would soon be ringing and you would once again be inviting me to France to sing.

You remember the attack last year on the French satire magazine that making fun of the prophet Mohammed? I came to France, sang a few songs and united the world.  I felt good about myself for helping the French.  As I was boarding the plane back to America the French ambassador said to me, “ne revenez pas” which I believe means “Come back soon.”

Well I am ready to come back.  Since Friday I have sat by my phone waiting for the call. When I didn’t receive the call I proactively called your office.  

“Hi. It’s James Taylor.  Tell John Kerry I have my bags packed and I’m ready to sing again for the French” I said.

Whomever answered asked if this was a crank call and hung up.  So I called back.

“No. It’s me. James Taylor. I used to be married to Carly Simon. I want to sing for the French.”

I was told to log into the State Department’s web site and check the job listings.  I don’t think she understood what I was saying.

Anyway I’m sitting here like I have all weekend.  Staring at my phone. Waiting for it to ring.  Staring. Waiting.

Any minute now my phone will ring and I’ll hear my good friend John Kerry inviting me back to France.

Any minute now.  Just sitting. Waiting. Staring.

Look my f*cking number’s not unlisted. You have it Kerry.  Just f*cking call!

Call and invite me to sing for the French or so help me I’ll put out another album and go on tour!

Is that what you want, ketchup boy?

F*cking call me!  I’m James Taylor dammit!  I was signed by Paul McCartney in the ’60s!

That’s it.  I’m done with you Kerry.  I don’t need this. I have plenty of options!

I can sing for other people!

I’m checking my messages now. I’ve been invited to sing at my grandchild’s kindergarten class!

That’s right. And you know what?  If I’m singing to them and you call, Kerry, I’m going to ignore you.

You had your f*cking chance.

I’m James f*cking Taylor and nobody messes with me.

You remember the Lynryd Skynyrd plane crash?  Who the hell do you think ordered it?  I did! The bastards disrespected me!

Jim Morrison.  Jimi Henrix.  Janet  Joplin. John Lennon. These were all my work. I know how to take out my enemies.

You had better call Kerry.  I’m putting you on notice!

So f*cking call! 

Nice daughters you have there John Kerry.  Shame if a rock star in his ’60s would impregnate them!

I’m just saying this because I want to help France.

Yours sincerely,

James F*cking Taylor

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