Best thing I have read in ages. Louis Menand rocks on. And on.

As someone who spends a substantial amount time with the youth, I agree that pretty much everything is wasted on them. I know that I personally never really appreciated anything until I was 30. Not dance, the importance of intelligent conversation above everything, my liver, sun damage, wine nor the prostate as a means of getting what you want. I thought love affairs were opportunites to share fears and aspirations in a setting of mutual respect rather than an acrimonious battle where victors steal self esteem and leave an STD or two behind as an afterthought.

Ah yes, the things I should have known when I was wrinkle-free and still thought a pension was something one marries. Things like never trust a woman who wears too much eye make-up or who surrounds her workspace with photos of herself. Or a man who claims to love his wife.

We tolerate each other, is all. Anything else is fantasy.

ZZ Top



Why can't Rooney look like Zidane? Haven't I been punished enough for being English?

Man. I took me at least 8 seconds to realize that that is HAIR and not some fabulous approved by Madonna silver fox fur hat. That is some mane he's got there. Anyway, congrats to South Korea. Their supporters were all super excited and crowding around the big screen on 32nd and 6th today on my way into work. Exactly the right way to get with the World Cup fever. You deserve it.

6.6.06

A day that starts with you running into that guy you hooked up with the night of the NYC leccy blackout in August 2003 is never going to begin well. The mark of the beast indeed.

I have a whole lot of crap to get through so that my contractor can start putting things back into my apartment. He's pulled everything out and now it's down to me to start withdrawing cash and putting it infront of one of those big movie wind making machines and watch it fly, fly away little birds.

One thing we discussed last night was changing my gas meter which is old, ugly and big. And smells a bit gassy. We are planning on building around it. It's going to turn into a cupboard in my bathroom which will be held up by shelves of beautiful white marble onto which I plan on stuffing piles of condoms and packets of Depends. So I called ConEd and asked them if they could change it.

"Did you open a window?" she asked.

"Um no." I said.

"Can you open a window now?"

"Um. No. I am not there. I am at work."

"Well this is an emergency and I have entered an urgent work order into the system."

"What do you mean this is an emergency? I don't even live there. I just want to schedule someone to install a smaller, less ugly meter."

"You said "leak"".

"I said "might be a leak"".

"Right you said the "L" word."

"No. I said there was a possibility of the "L" word."

"It is in the system now. We have to respond to it as an emergency."

"I am at work"

"There will be someone there in within the hour."

"Can't we reschedule this?"

"No. It is in the system now."

"Do you have a super?"

"No."

"Well you need to be there then. They will be there within an hour. I mean they may be able to get in, but if you aren't there, they have to call the Fire Department."

"To break my door down?"

"Yes. I mean they may have a master key, but I doubt it."

"They will break my door down?"

"Yes. And charge you for it."

"Shit I better go then."

"Yep."

Anyway, as it turned out there was actually quite an aggressive leak. I watched how it blew bubbles on the seam of the meter. I am all shut down now until I have an oven in there to attach it to and then they will come again and turn me on. You know ConEd do this at weekends and all through the night. Good guys to know.

I wasn't so thrilled when the man with the worst halitosis I have ever encountered sought me out in theatre 5 of the Angelika this evening and sat down next to me. Thank God that Art School Confidential was thankfully crap enough so that the putrified vapors emanating from his mouth didn't hit me so frequently whenever he laughed. I would have moved but the theater was packed. In reality I should have just left then and there since once the movie started he proceeded to pull pieces of skin from his face and eat them throughout the entire movie. I have lived in NY long enough and I am close enough to a period to not worry about asking someone to cease such disgusting behaviour beside me, but the thought of him actually talking to me managed to melt my nose hair in anticipation. I suppose he could have been removing, and belatedly enjoying, the remnants of a fruit facepack applied earlier and which he had forgotten to wash off before stepping out and mingling with members of the public, but the putrid smell of his breath was a sure giveaway that the man enjoyed nothing more than snacking on rotten flesh. His own.

Art School Confidential is pretty crap.

The Sea, on the other hand is fucking excellent.