Sunny Saturday

It’s Saturday and I’m over at the Brooklyn Library getting some books for the Thanksgiving week (Because there’s only so much of my parents I can take). How great is the Library? I mean, free books!? Free music!? Wait until the RIAA get a load of what these guys have been up to for years. They have been distributing music to people for years and nobody has tried to stop them…

What if you could rent music, like you rent DVDs? Take them out for a period of time, listen to them and then return them when you’re done. That’s brilliant. It wouldn’t violate copyright or anything. I’ve got to trademark/register that idea with the patent office stat!

Have a great weekend.


New Life (Part2)

The cab was black. One of those Lincoln Continentals that nobody owns, but are purchased by governments to drive dignitaries around. If I had been a more important person, the car might have been decked out with little flags from my home country on the front bumpers to signify that I was special. Someone who, when people passed on the street might exclaim “Who’s that?” Their friend answering “if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”


New life (part1)

I packed my business gear into my green duffle-bag, that looked as inappropriate to it’s contents, as I felt going on the trip. The trip was business, and I felt like an impostor. A fake business man, who might look the part, but secretly wanted to bring down the organization of which I had just joined. It felt wrong, as if I had sold myself out to the suits I said I would always rebel against.


Ex-smoker Logic

When I used to smoke, not that long ago, I used to day dream about all the cool things I would do with the new found money I would have if I quit smoking. The logic went a little something like-a-this:

* 1 pack of cigs = $7.00
* 5 packs a week = $35.00
* 20 packs a month = $140.00
* savings for the year = $1,000,000

So, my question to the panel is, where’s the flipping money? I ain’t no richer. Maybe it’s my math.


Tough Love

It has become apparent that writing from work, just isn’t feasible anymore, so I’m buying a laptop to write from home and on the road.

I’m currently in love with the “12-inch Powerbook.”: It’s like a tiny, tiny little slice of heaven.

It’s just going to be the adjustment of a 23-inch monitor to a 12-inch which might prove interesting.



I was…

I had been…

I tried to…

Ahh, forget it. The story is that I was lumbered with work over here. pounds of the stuff. stacks of paper, reams of CDs, and deadlines up the (pardon my language) wazoo. It was rough folks. Worst of all I had a trip out to California, that I was planning for and… I left.

I was so busy that I never even had time to say bye.

I’m sorry friends, for I should have said something. I should have given you notice, I should have sent a card, left a note, stuck a post-it(TM), but alas I didn’t. I just packed up my drawings and went from meeting to meeting in rainy california and lived with my bad karma.

What I’m trying to say is…

I’m back.




You might not get this if you’re not a New Yorker, but I thought I might send this out to all yall in the public transportation spectrum. Over here in New York City we got these nondescript little orange cards that cost lots of money and allow a commuter to travel from one place to another. These “MetroCards” can be refilled, unless you decide to purchase a *Weekly or Monthly card.*

I don’t know why these cards are different, but they are. They require a whole new card every time you buy one and so if you’re anything like me at the end of buying one you’re left with two identical looking cards with two very different values.

* Card A is worthless.
* Card B is worth $70

I, however, in putting my credit card away, after buying my new MetroCard, have gotten totally confused which is which.

This isn’t a complicated process, but the fact that I am now unsure which card is which is very disconcerting. I will find out which card is which when I swipe it at the turnstile to gain access to the subway, but this uncertainty will follow me even after I’ve swiped the right card and folded the wrong one in half to distinguish it as _not the right one._

You will sometimes find me, down on the platform, in front of a trash can, reluctantly letting go of the bent metrocard, fearing that just maybe it was the good one and I have just thrown away $70.


52 Pickup

The good news is, the crap I was dealing with last week has been resolved… well most of it has been resolved. Some things just have a staying power that weekends can’t cleanse.

The bad news is that new things have replaced the old and the grind has been reborn with all new spikey edges.

The spectacle of my life is beginning to wear on me.

Something’s got to give.

Although I have said it 53 million times before, I have decided to play my music for real. I have the new guitar, I have the new songs, I have the look… now all I need is the courage. Mr. cowardly Lion.

When I start making noises, I’ll record a few new ones for you guys… untill then, “enjoy an old one from 1997.”: It’s from when I was a baby.