Playing music in the spring in Boston...

I can't wait (it's not here yet). Spring in Boston feels more earned than in NY. Coming of age is awesome when you end up who you wanted to be.

Cab Man of Amarillo

He's a big, bearded, Suburban-driving behemoth, whose massive gut kisses the steering wheel during even the most gradual stops and turns. "I spend most of my time at the airport because I hate the fucking people here--that's because most of them are fucking assholes." When pressed, he reveals his roots: "I'm from New York City...Broadway and 225th in the Bronx."

Found note to self on Miyako Hotel (San Francisco) stationery , circa April 2007

WRITE ABT
THE VALLEY!
THE FOG!
THE BEER
THE CABS!

Aborted Thoughts

I found the following text in an Outlook post-it note from the third hour of a Tuesday morning flight across the country. It is a perfect example of what I shall call attempted thought.

AIRPLANE THOUGHTS

US Airways yesterday, Delta today, American tomorrow, JetBlue Thursday.

I was annoyed that there was no free paper today because I'm not in a hotel or on the shuttle. The paper fills me with ideas. Yesterday, the WSJ filled me with a great futuristic short story setting (a first) involving sports, stocks, audible watermarks on digital video, a College Point bar full of city workers, and, possibly, alien attack. It would be hilarious, but I won't write it.

As I was packing my massive corporate tool bag last night, I found a crumpled USA Today with an ad celebrating the paper's 25th anniversary. A grid of 25 captioned photographs covered the page; these corresponded to the 25 most significant changes in Our Society in as many years.

Somewhere in the middle of the list was "Sexualization," the header adorned with a photo of Timberlake preparing to bear Jackson's star-studded teat.

[a one-sided discourse on whether anything had actually been sexualized or layers of societal cloaking around evolution had been quicky and dramatically unwrapped was to follow]

Airplanes are peace and solitutde. An empty, bankruptcy-enducing 737-800 above cornfields is a great place to work and think and develop. Most disagree.

In two months, we will drive around those cornfields for a week and take thousands of photographs, some of them awesome. I need to order a tripod now.

Then and Now

As my fourth (sequential, non-contiguous) blog nears its third anniversary, I have to reflect on why it's still here. I offer you no rationale. I have no plan. This is the written record of what I thought and when, or what I tried to think.