Rather than take the time to organize my thoughts. I figure why not just ramble without editing?
Mountains of dirty snow, Park Slope parents, the amazing 2 year old who loves guitar videos, enraptured by youtube. Bought him a ukulele. Moroccan restaurant in a Kenneth Cole clothing store, Ethiopian food served up in dollops on rubbery bread with holes like fresh pancakes. Driving in the bass player’s Subaru across the Brooklyn Bridge to the trombone player’s second gig playing Dixieland in Yankee land. Her previous gig was at a guitar store/coffee shop/theatre/music venue. Opting for a live jazz trio crammed into a basement bar with the soprano saxophone up in my pie, over the ticket I paid $15 to see a singalong episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Illegal knockff handbags in hidden Chinatown rooms. Dad called: money from grandfather pays for trip and more. Staten Island Ferry: deep cold so hard it’s warm. Pigeons in the water fountain. Cross-dressing homeless guy needed a cigarette. Gluten-free meals. Hangin at the near-empty sports bar because the hip, signless speakeasy writer restaurant was packed with well-dressed guys and a hockey game? Sitting in the vintage 1975 Yankee stadium bleachers that line the SNL studio 8H. Reading a teleprompter. 48th street guitar shops. Umanov’s on Bleecker. Should I move here? Times Square Virgin Megastore blasting. Protests. Ground Zero at dusk. Cold Atlantic winds. Indian food. Vegetable lasagna. Apparently I snore. Zamboni at Rockefeller.
Laguardia air traffic = missed Dallas connection despite planned 2 hour layover. Rental car. 4AM. Sleep.