Half A World Away

I was really diggin’ on bein’ back in the city last night.

My pal Dan Zola, MTV Digital Supervising Producer (and sometimes pianist at my shows) cajoled me into grabbing a beer after work. I, in turn, cajoled Dan into slumming it at The Playwright Tavern instead of one of his more swank suggestions. Nonetheless, we tossed back a few, he devoured a burger (and in the process thwarted a potential ketchup stain on his cuff with more grace and finesse than I’ve ever witnessed), and caught up on the things a coupla corporate stiffs talk about.

Point being, when I walked out of The Playwright sometime around nine o’clock or so, I had a little buzz goin’ on. I strapped on y iPod, and headed uptown through my old neighborhood (Hell’s Kitchen) diggin’ on all the cool and ridiculous and fun things about the city. Like all the people talking into their cell phones. Like the buzzing traffic, and the flashing lights, and the gasping tourists. It all felt new and exciting and fun. And I was glad to be back, glad to be here, and glad to be appreciating it all.

I listened to REM’s “Half A World A Way” five times before ducking into a cab, and speeding home.

So I was really diggin’ on bein’ back in the city last night. This morning, though, with snow falling from a slate gray sky, not so much so.