Is there anything not worth blowing off?
I have succumbed to the season. I blew off everything today and lazed around in Central Park. Walked barefoot in the Great Lawn. Sat by the statues of literary notables and flipped around on the iPod.
I fell in love with the Joe Strummer song “Coma Girl,” and downloaded all of his solo stuff. Really good records. It’s a shame I didn’t know what a vital solo artist he was ’til he passed away.
When I briefly lived in London, my roadie Heinz was friendly with Joe, and kept telling me that–being that we were both latecomers to the Ecstasy phenomenon, and both quite enthusiastic about it–he wanted to get us together to hang out. Never happened. The mind reels.