I’ve grown accustomed to Robert asking me if I actually paid money for albums, as if there’s any other way for me to get them.
Nearly embarrassed, but not quite (realizing there’s no reason for…
I was standing
on the platform,
praying
for the D train.
The thing about the D train is that, from 36th Street in Brooklyn, it’ll take me all the way to 42nd Street and 5th Avenue at Bryant Park in Manhattan. No transfers, one long ride. Transfers take time and wear me out, and, with the D train, there’s even a slight possibility of finding a seat. Having a seat is good because it allows me to almost forget about my body and all of the other bodies around me — touching me — and it allows me to…
There was something special in the air last night. We noticed it as we walked down Madison Avenue on our way to Union Square where we would find no place with a decent happy hour and no place for us to sit, no place with a fire. Every stranger on the street seemed to be overcome by it. Every stranger we passed smiled at us. Did you notice? It was as if they knew something about us.
Just like your smile: Their smiles kept secrets, their smiles hummed songs. Their smiles seemed…
And that's
the way
it goes.
I’m proud of the last few blog entries. The stuff over the last two weeks — being away from home, in an unfamiliar place, and with the much longer commute offering me all that time to think and worry and think and love and worry — was kind of inspired, I thought. People seemed to like it, too; I received all kinds of really sweet comments and e-mails and phone calls. It made me feel very good about myself.
But then, after posting the piece about the maple syrup, I wondered if readers…
This one's pretty silly. The title says it all. And wait for the end—the payoff is hilarious.
Thanks, Jeff.
Oh well, looks like Lucas finally killed this link.