Archive for September 2004
Leaving New York
I have no business posting this right now. My Communicar arrives in seven hours. My flight leaves in nine. And yet, my bag remains unpacked, my load of fresh laundry remains in its duffel, and the only thing that’s made right now is my bed. I am ambivilent, for some reason, about the whole thing…
Read MoreBorough Of Bad Decisions, Part II
The Smith Family made me do it. Nah, I behaved. I mean, kinda’. No whiskey river. No car service. Home by, well, 1:30. My new rule is that when Scotty ‘Booty Call’ Cunningham leaves a gig, that’s my two minute warning. Two hours later, Heather (link! link! link!) and I were waiting for our respective…
Read MoreWhat We Talk About When We Talk About Love
“I used to go to a female masseuse exclusively, but nowadays, it’s always a Russian guy. Europeans aren’t all weird about the body. And those guys know how to use their hands.” “So you like ’em hairy.” “Yeah. So last time he says to me, ‘You need colonic.’” “I’m all about it. You gotta’ clean…
Read MoreGrounded, 5 AM
Once again, a Smith Family performance finds me in the back seat of a car service from Brooklyn listening to Willie Nelson in the small hours of morning. Once again, the morning after (the morning of?) finds me waking from three hours of sleep still in my jeans, rolling a headache out of the base…
Read MoreDaysleeper
I woke up this morning with an itch. I noticed it first on my chin. Then the inside of my left elbow. Then my left ring finger. There were little red bumps. Something was amiss. I dressed as if to run, but my apartment was a mess. There was an unpacked bag in the corner.…
Read MoreThe making of a great playlist is hard to do. You gotta’ kick it off with a killer. Then you take it up a notch, but you don’t wanna blow it, so you cool it off a bit. There are a lot of rules. Anyway, I’ve started to make one. It’s stuff that makes me…
Read MoreOceanside
You gather your clothes off the line, rinse the salt from your body in the outdoor shower, shake the sand from your shoes, and fold everything away. In your carry-on you stow a new balsa wood glider, Cisco Brewery cap, one liter of Triple 8 vodka, and a Lightship-red Nantucket T. Inside, you carry the…
Read MoreStargazer Tigerlilly
Can you remember the last time you went to bed before nine o’clock? I can’t. Prior to last night. It’s a little odd to have a weekday to one’s self: no deadlines, commitments, obligations. It enables one to walk out the back door for a quick peak at the bay, and keep walking ’til sundown.…
Read MoreThe Second Running Of The Mister Rogers’ Memorial Madaket Triathlon
I am lying on my back in the sand waiting on a shooting star. The surf rolls and crashes all around. The Milky Way stretches out overhead like a sideways halo. And then it happens as quickly as it hadn’t: streaking eastward across the gauzy veil of stars, a shining speck of dust glows bright…
Read MoreBeginning The World
We are moments away from the start of the Second Annual Mr. Rogers’ Memorial Madaket Triathlon. And The Race Director, yours truly, is extremely hung over. I slept all the way to Nantucket yesterday — both flights, including the eight-seat prop plane. It didn’t seem quite real when I got here, which may have been…
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