Everybody say whoop-di-doo
New York City in a flash, dressed down in every article of clothing imaginable, as you run from train to the venue and back again. And as always, the completely arbitrary left hand turn into the best restaurant you’ve eaten at in weeks, since the last time you were here. I keep thinking I should move to New York, and then all I can think of is getting squashed like a bug. There’s something inherent about the getting squashed that just nixes the idea altogether.

At the show two NYU students from Middletown, New York cornered me and began asking me questions of all manner of intensity and inquisitiveness. Where are you from? What do you do? What are your goals in life? I found the whole interrogation rather disconcerting, I have to say, and they turned away with at least some slight hint of chagrin.