Archive for August 2002
New York City Triathlon ’02
I should be in the studio, but after this morning’s triathlon, I called Kevin and begged off. It goes like this… I woke up at 4:55, showered, and walked to the 79th Street Boat Basin transition area, dropped my gear (helmet, gloves, shoes, backpack, PowerGels, Vaseline) at my bike. Then I followed the line of…
Read MoreDouble Nervous
Tonight I’m doubly nervous. I carbo-loaded, hydrated, and filled to the gills with soy protein shake. In 12 hours, I’ll be in the middle of a one mile swim in the Hudson River, staring down the barrel at a 25 mile ride followed by a 10k run. Per usual, I feel unprepared. I notice every…
Read MoreIn The Land Of Dreams
Sigh… At home, Friday night, resting up for Sunday’s tri, listening to the Innocence Mission, kinda’ melancholy (pretty rocknroll, huh?). I miss my guitar. I need it. Crave it. It’s like I’ve lost my voice, my ability to dream, or my ability to understand dreams. That’s what songs are, after all: lucid dreams. When the…
Read MoreFoster Grant, Ben Franklin & Me
I’m watching “Vanilla Sky,” another piece of Cameron Crowe brilliance. Tom Cruise is about to get in his big car crash. Life’s so great right now, so full, so busy, so complete — the work, the record, the travel, the tour, the relationships — I hope I’m not headed for my own big crash. Last…
Read MoreGWB, REM & Me
After the world’s longest and busiest day (I’m planning and prepping for MTV News’ Video Music Awards coverage and 9/11 Remembrance concurrently), I met my buddy Jon Rosenblatt for a bike ride. The sun had fallen into New Jersey by the time we hit the path along the river. The George Washington Bridge was glistening…
Read MoreA Hazy Red Crescent
Aaaaaaaaaaah, the inevitable let down. Not really, not completely, there’s just a ton going on. The record, the tour, mailers, running, work, work, work — oh yeah, don’t forget to eat! Life… you know. And all guitarless. Like an alcoholic without booze. Or a confessor without a priest. Fortunately, I have Beth Orton to keep…
Read MorePlane touched down at midnight. Was in Hell’s Kitchen by 1, asleep by 2. Snoozed and snoozed and snoozed the clock radio — NPR couldn’t stir me from my time zone-less sleep. I finally woke an hour shy of our morning news meeting, and raced in, pausing en route only long enough to buy a…
Read MoreFrom 37,000 feet, American Airlines #164 is closing in on Newark Airport, and I’m closing in on home. I’m eating Red Vines, L.A.’s finest export, and thinking through the week… My time in California was, as always, transformative. I like to think of it as a view of things to come, as a volley across…
Read MoreThe beach was wide this morning, waves rolling slowly across the cool, flat sand. The marine layer was thick and low, but the sun fought its way through, throwing beams of warm morning light through the mist… Now, the weekend is dawning on Southern California. It’s all blues and greens and golden hour light. And…
Read MoreThe Summer Air
I’ve been writing this song all week. Every morning when I run, every moment I have to myself, I hear this chorus in my head. It strikes me a “Summer’s Gone” part two. That is, it has a similar temperment: open, bright, uptempo, but tinged with loss and some strange sense of impending apocalypse. The…
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