Central Park’s 150th Birthday

I hustled uptown after work last night to catch Central Park’s 150th Birthday party: a soggy fireworks display called Life Cycle. Ironic, then, that I should return home to the post-break up key swap.

My recent proximity to weddings and babies has been a little tough in some ways. There are inquiries, glances, implications that something’s wrong with me. There are awkward moments on the dance floor.

But it’s ok — really. This relationship, mercifully, ended in a slow descent rather than the crash landings of previous loves. There’s still a luffa in my shower, and some makeup in the medicine cabinet. More importantly, though, there’s much greater understanding in my heart; many lessons learned. And that is the idea, right? That is the Life Cycle.

The work routine is a challenge to wrap myself around. Fortunately, the post-VMA season finds us in a less-hectic space. Still, it’s becoming tabloid central around there: Britney & Madonna, Ben & J. Lo. It’s a living.

Kevin and I are getting back to work on the new record tomorrow night. I expect to be working on it Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday, and to keep right on trucking through next week. Tony’s coming in to lay down a lead line on “Never Be The Same” Sunday, and cellist Julia Kent is coming in next Wednesday to play on “Shiver,” “Stay,” “New York,” and — unbenounced to her — “Intent On St. Paul.” We’re due to master the record on October 17th, so the clock’s ticking…

Meanwhile, (Smokey Junglefrog bassist) Pablo and I hatched a new idea sitting on the dock late Sunday night: a SJF greatest hits record. It’s been ten years since we disbanded, so it’s as good a time as any. And we only released cassettes (this is pre-digital, kids). There may not be a ton of demand. But we figure enough people are interested in a CD of 15 of our best (and most-loved) songs that it would be worth the effort. Now, if we could only find all those pesky DAT masters…

So. You know. It’s the Circle of Light. Of Life. Kaboom! The Ring of Fire. Shit’s blowin’ up. Blowin’ out. Blowin’ in the wind. Whatever. My pizza’s ready. My beer’s empty. So… g’night. Rock on.

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