Doug Clark: ‘Gypsy Curse’ tune for a man who left mark

Early in May, I told Jimmy Marks I had just finished writing an original song he should know about.

It concerned the famous hex the Gypsy leader had hung on Spokane in supernatural retaliation to an illegal 1986 police raid on his home and the home of his parents.

Jimmy didn’t miss a beat.

“I will bless it,” he offered.

I don’t know if he ever did. Unfortunately, the song is now a tribute to one of the most original characters this city has ever seen.

Jimmy died on Wednesday following a massive heart attack. He was 62.

So, on Thursday I recorded “The Gypsy Curse” at Cue11 studios. My bandmate and buddy, Joe Brasch, performed the production duties after we laid down the acoustic guitar tracks.

Today, you can read the lyrics below. Or you can hear me sing it by going online to www.spokesmanreview.com.

I’m certain Jimmy would approve. The song follows the theme of each and every telephone call he ever made to me. And there were A LOT of calls. Few weeks went by without hearing from Jimmy at least once. And if he was really worked up on a particular subject, sometimes he’d call several times a day.

Every conversation went like this: Jimmy would seize upon whatever bad news was making headlines and then claim that his curse was responsible. Eventually, he would segue into a bitter harangue against the local authorities for what happened 21 years ago.

Despite winning a $1.43 million payment from the city, Jimmy never got over the raid. The curse was his way of payback.

Fires. Storms. Crime. Disease. Political scandals. Police corruption.

As far as Jimmy was concerned, every Spokane ill was curse-related.

For example: When a swarm of bees built a hive on City Hall not long ago, Jimmy called to say that he thought it was supposed to be an invasion of snakes, but he must have somehow got it wrong.

I broke the story of the curse in 1986 thanks to a tip from a friend of the Marks family.

“Word is out,” I wrote, “that Spokane’s Gypsy community … has laid a 50-megaton curse on the city.”

But as I told him in May, the inspiration for my song dates back to the wonderful 1997 Spokesman-Review photograph that was taken after the death of Jimmy’s dad, Grover.

The photo was snapped after the hearse carrying the late-Gypsy leader made a surprising downtown stop. Opening the vehicle’s rear door, Jimmy, gesticulating wildly, urged his father’s spirit to invade City Hall to further doom our already jinxed town.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Jimmy wasn’t well-educated. He could be rude, crude and annoying as hell at times.

But he put a human face on Spokane’s Gypsy culture. And when it came to self-promotion and manipulating the media, he was a master.

I’m no fortune teller. But I predict that years and years from now, Spokane will still be talking about this small-cigar-chomping showman named Jimmy Marks.

And so I give you …

“The Gypsy Curse”

Grover Marks’ corpse came a’rolling up to City Hall.

In the back of a Cadillac, black as a widow’s shawl.

Jimmy jumped out of the hearse.

That’s when things went from bad, to worse.

Waggin’ his thumbs, he said: “Here comes The Gypsy Curse.”

Hoodoo. Voodoo. Do you believe in The Curse?

It’s like something straight out of an apocalyptical Bible verse.

Drunk cop shot that guy in the dark.

A federal judge dropped his pants down in Riverfront Park.

Jimmy just called. He said: “Blame it all on The Gypsy Curse!”

(chorus)

Well, do you believe in The Gypsy Curse?

Can you conceive of a Gypsy Curse?

Mom and pop lost all of their cash,

When the Met Mortgage Company went crash.

I don’t know about you, but I believe in that Gypsy Curse.

Mayor Jim creeping like a spider on the World Wide Web.

Trolling for teen/man love, that’s what the paper said.

The voters thought it was perverse.

The recall they held was a first.

When the counting was done it was won by The Gypsy Curse.

(chorus)

Do you believe in The Gypsy Curse?

Can you conceive of a Gypsy Curse?

Did you hear about the tourists who got fried?

Hanging out in the gondola ride?

Call it bad luck or chalk it up to The Gypsy Curse.

I believe, I believe in The Gypsy Curse.

I believe, I believe in The Gypsy Curse.

City Hall invaded by bees.

South Hill ladies growing weed.

River Park Garage took us for a fall.

No toilet paper in the Comet bar stalls.

Ice Storm ‘96 left us in the dark.

Why was Jack Lynch down in High Bridge Park?

Somebody burned down the Mars Hotel.

That barista-flashing cop was Cuppa Joe Mastel.

East Sprague hookers. Avista power bills.

Eugster filing lawsuits and river sewage spills.

Jimmy Marks just called, said: “Blame it all on the Gypsy Curse.”

Rest in peace, Jimmy.