There must be some unwritten policy that everything goes bananas in Spring. The trees are busy flowering, the professors busy assigning interminable edits, Editrice Liz busy trying to keep her various projects in the air before they all crash down around her ears, and Editrice Laura busy working her way through a fifth of bourbon. No, just kidding. She’s a very sedate 21-year-old, which is why we appreciate her. Liz, on the other hand, is a dancing machine. And we all knew the Toucan was a party bird anyway. Bit of a sketchy character. We spent hours staring at Wyl Villacres’s excellent cover, trying to figure out each and every symbol the bird’s composed of. Good, maybe that way we can distract you lot from picking out (drunken) typos.
Anyhoo, this issue is a boon to foodies. We’re serving “Chicken Fingers Parmagina”—it’s a recipe, go look!—omelets, more potential omelets… We also are incredibly excited about the epic poem, “The Villainy of Hamlet”, whose conclusion will appear in the Summer Issue. Imagine, in this day and age, and epic poem! (Though we have to say, laying out epic poems is an experience fraught with epic fail.) We’ll introduce you to some new friends—Tannen Dell, editor-in-chief of our hip West Coast cousin mag, Indigo Rising, Chelsey Baggot, the shortest pin-up girl you’ll ever meet, B.D Fischer, new Chicagoan who terrifyingly, follows Toucan advice in regards to Chicago entertainment, and Jacob Edwards, an Aussie who regales with completely true tales of David Byrne and self-propelled cabbages, and who we already know will be headlining our Fall Issue. Plus, we have our intrepid Bahraini, Ali Al Saeed, fighting for democracy one omelet at a time. Old friends include JANEisnot plain, with us from nearly the beginning, Chris Crittenden, our laughing, laudatory Owl pal, and Beth Rolingson/Tom Besson, whose marriage is one of beauty and art. And of course, San Fran Dan throws in his 200 bucks. And now to wrap up this little note.
Liz: Phew, that wasn’t very funny. Laura, anything to add?
(Laura staggers in, a pair of flowered panties over her head)
Laura: The hiiiiilllllsre alive, witda sounda MUUUUUSIC…
Liz: Um, yes, Laura, yes, they are, thanks to your lovely—
Laura: Shubmmitda TOUCAN!
Liz: What a terribly lucid drunk you make. Well, folks, it’s thetoucanmag@gmail.com and thetoucanonline.blogspot.com if you care to take her up on it….
Laura: Don’t WAIT until Augusht!
With as much sobriety as the occasion allows,
Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices
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