Stephen Mejias

Vol.20 No.9 (September 1997)

Alright, it's cold now. Mr">http://wcbsfm.com/WCBS-FM-Airstaff---Mr--G/2073164">Mr. G says the mercury will only creep up to around the 38- or 39-degree mark today. I guess it's to be expected. We are deep into November. New York City in the cold, with all of the wreaths and lights and scarves and frigid breath, is beautiful. For a moment or two, that is, until I remember how much I hate this weather. It's funny, too, how I forget how unbearable it can be in my">http://blog.stereophile.com/stephenmejias/102606window/">my apartment this time of year. I don't know how I've lived through the last three winters in that old, drafty shack.

It is November 14th, and it's hot as heck outside. I wonder how many polar bears just died. That's not funny. The arctic is vanishing, the oceans are rising, we have brown clouds in the sky. Awesome. We are doomed. Screw it. Let's buy some vinyl!