During that brief, but sad, period when the Multi-Purpose Solution wasn't making music, I spent some time booking shows at the now gone, but not forgotten, Jersey City rock venue, Uncle Joe's.
"Do you want a ride to work?"
"What?"
"Are you going to Manhattan?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want a ride to work?"
"What do you mean?"
"I've got my car over there. I'm going to 58th Street, but you need four people in a car to be allowed to drive into the City. You wanna ride?"
"Nah, man. You're a stranger. Good luck with that, though."
"You know what I want for Christmas, mom."
"What?"
"I'm not asking you if you know; I'm telling you that you do know."
"What?"
"What do you mean, 'What'?" You know, right?"
"How would I know?"
"Mom, you always know."
"Not this year, Stephen. This year I don't know. Tell me."
"I don't want to tell you. I want you to just know."
"Stephen, I'm telling you: I. Don't. Know."
"Yes, you do."
"Stephen!"
"Mom!"
"Just tell me, boy."
"Nope."
"That's it."
"What?"
"You're getting socks."
Madison Avenue is normally a nearly impenetrable fortress of buses. Crossing it is a choking, weaving, stuttering adventure; a New York City version of Chutes and Ladders.
I don't know nothing about nothing — I don't even own an iPod — but when I opened the attachment and scanned the press release, I was absolutely and immediately impressed.
Stephen Mejias
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