Working from Home

Almost like a real audio reviewer, tomorrow I'll be


Three holy words to be only whispered between cupped hands or shouted to the high heavens. I've always imagined it — Working. From. Home. — to be a life full of sunshine and smiles and tingling toes. I'll wake at the usual time, but instead of rolling heavily out of bed, I'll linger for a happy moment, knowing that there's nowhere else for me to be. I'll rise gently and walk the seventeen short steps into the kitchen where the coffee will suddenly brew itself.

Oh, even before I that, I'll choose a disc — one from the pile I just stole from Robert — and pop it into the Ayre player to spin as freely as I'll dance into my bright bathroom. By the time I'm out of the shower, the coffee will be ready and the system will be cooking, and there'll be nothing left to do but enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I'll sit down in the sweetest spot with my coffee and my sandwich and I'll listen to some music. Maybe I'll write a review of the new Red Krayola or of the new Moore Brothers.

I'll turn the computer on and let the e–mails arrive. I'll wave hello to the Forum and tip my hat to the Gallery.

Seriously: I'll be working from home because it's time to deliver my dear Moscode to the UPS office, kissing it goodbye and sending it off to George Kaye whose careful hands will surely bring the blue glow back to life.