February 20th, 2004

Shoulda thought ahead

An open letter to the Blues Man of Alewife

Dear Sir-

I’m not sure how you manage to do this, but I’m never quite sure what it is that you’re playing when I hear your slurred drawl and your lazy guitar pickin’ from the top of the escalators. The best I can tell is that you are not the Off-Key Fife Guy or the Just-Because-You-Sing-At-Church-Doesn’t-Mean-You-Can-Sing-Lady. For that, at least, I can think that fortune has smiled on me. I do again when I realize that what you’re playing is edgy, experimental, and utterly unrefined.

When I catch sight of you, too tall and got up in duds Jake and Elwood would be proud of (assuming they could appreciate beige and corduroy), I know that the change is coming. I can almost see the gleam in your eye through those cheap sunglasses. You’re going to switch things up. A slight change and low delta blues, unmistakable now, roll down the stairs after me as I head for the platform. "Of course," I think to myself, happy in spite of (or perhaps because of) the sad notes that reduce everything to its most basic form. Yeah, I might be sad or bored or in pain, but others have known all of that, too.

I'm rarely the only one who's smiling.

Don’t ever change.

Le théâtre de l'absurde

Briefly out of context

"I wanted to be a kung fu monk when I was a kid... Things didn't work out." -Said by one of our techies while walking back from lunch in Chinatown.


This post won kzookitten's coveted Most Hunger Inducing Award. I was delighted by this.


Mary Lou Lord made it to the cover of this week's Phoenix


I like The Shins. Even if they're not British. Or something.


Reading over past entries has convinced me that I really don't like the way I write. It's a little like not liking the sound of your own voice on the tape recorder. This, incidentally, makes me think I should change my answers in Betsy's poll.