"I was at Maxwell's last night for no more than three hours, and it made me terribly sick."
"What’s Maxwell's?" JA asks.
"Oh," I say, "It's a rock and roll club in Jersey."
"Thank you for assuming that I'm hip."
I laugh. "I’ve become so allergic to cigarette smoke. I woke up this morning coughing blood, and I've got a horrible headache now."
"You must have some insect genes."
A few days ago, I removed my Nintendo Entertainment System — the one I've owned since I was a young boy — from my Walmart television stand — the one I've owned for five years — and placed it on my Target bookcase. I then unplugged the Sony DVD player, wrapped up its wires, and placed it in my bedroom closet.
I met John DeVore at last year's Consumer Electronics Show. Wes Phillips directed me: "Have you been to the DeVore Fidelity room yet?"
"Nuh-uh," I shook my head.
"You should check it out. I think John'll have some stuff that'll interest you."
"Alright," I nodded.
Music editor, Robert Baird, comes over and asks: "How’s it going, chief?"
The "chief" part I take as a compliment. This is a magazine publishing company we’re working for, after all.
"Not bad," I say, while handing him the new Silver Jews album I purchased last night: "Have you heard this yet? It’s pretty good."
"Oh yeah," he responds, "It’s great. Did you buy this?"
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