Last night I dreamed I received a package containing a hat that had been owned by John-Paul’s mother. The Papal Police ransacked my room and confiscated it.

The Mad Maggies is the poorly-named band I’m playing with, and this is the website:
http://www.themadmaggies.com/

They say you can find anything on the web, but I searched in vain for a site with Sputnik the Space Potato (“We like salads, salads, salads/ Veg-ty-bles and fruits”) nor could I find one for “Always count your change”, but did find the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiUQKuZF85w

No pictures of the Pink-mobile, James? And bummer, oh man, about the tree. I guess at least you’ll be in firewood for a while.

Greetings from Space Potato

Notice on the Maggie's site that you will be playing at Spud's Pizza next month. Hope you will include "You earthlings should eat vegetables" in the set.

The Times They Are A'Changing

How do you like the new Bryan Ferry "Dylanesque"? I was a little surprised after the last one, "Frantic"(I think), at the 70s, pre-Roxy (as if Roxy never existed) rock lite approach. But, as with all Ferry albums I have, it becomes more endearing with every listen. I especially like the castanets on "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" (a nod to Juarez perhaps). It would be nice and ironic if this CD becomes popular and Ferry's career dims to twilight bathed in a soft warm glow of adoration for his easy listening interpretations of his Bob-ness' "visions". Of course, Bryan's always been a sucker for Bob, but never so straight-forward pop in his takes as on this outing. I suspect that this one too will miss the boat with the mass market, but will nevertheless end up signalling mood in countless romantic comedy and relationship movies to come.

Today's Verse: 23 May 2007

How pretty and fine
The coil, I mind,
That drives your buoyant
Carress

How noble your nape
I wonder and gape
At your alluring
Curvature

Today's Verse: 22 May 2007

Don't ignore
Hair fall
Growing stout
Old man dick
Shadow doubt

Don't ignore
Creeping fear
Temptation's throb
Lingering
Problems

Don't ignore
Mixed signals
Unusual changes
In pulse and respiration
Rates, and mates

Don't ignore
The guy in your dreams
Who thinks he's you

Don't ignore
Don't let go
Worry, fret
Regret
Before it's too late

PIN

The other day I went to use my debit card and just whiffed through my PIN; I entered the wrong number three times in a row. Though I’ve had the same number since I got my first ATM card in Boston in 1985, it’s of course hardly out of character that I’d forget it: once or twice a semester I would freeze up and be utterly unable to remember my high school locker combination, and those two-letter combinations for the St. John’s mailboxes refused to stay fixed in my memory for more than twenty minutes at a time. Since I’d entered my PIN incorrectly one time too many, I had to call B of A to clear the block on my account.

I told all this to Juliana, which brought up the somewhat intimate question of PINs. Fifteen years, and the subject’s never come up before. I told her the number, which I’ve used because it was part of a friend’s phone number in Cincinnati, and seems like a very strong number. Oh she said. That’s the same number I use. Because she knows it’s mine, I had told her at some point and had forgotten? No, she just likes the number. It’s a nice number. She’s been using it not quite so long as me, perhaps for ten years, each of us using the same secret number without knowing it.

Today's Verse: 21 May 2007

Destiny's busted
Broke down, abandoned
Sidelined on the highway
To and fro nowhere

Son (and daughter) of Fast Fun

Today's Verse: 19 May 2007

Hey raisin eyes
Old balloon skin
Don't laugh
That could be your face

Petite poeme-en-prose, 5/17/07

Wow, I’m really impressed with your poem-a-day diligence, Jim. Here’s my offering, a little lunchtime poeme-en-prose:

A pigeon grabs a French fry and shakes it so hard it flies out of his mouth. The pigeon stares at it lying on the ground. He takes a step forward, shakes his head quickly and stares at it some more.

Today's Verse: 17 May 2007

Dreamed we robbed the mob
Jim was our leader
He got caught by the cops
As we made our escape
In a black SUV
They came to the house
Oh shit that's the end of my career

and Jerry, well, fell

Today's Verse: 16 May 2007

Ev'rybody knows
April is a killer
And in May
Town is dead

For selfish reason

Today's Verse: 15 May 2007

All the quiet little babies
Afloat in mama's womb
Just think they'll soon be driving
And making traffic soon

Maggie got a fan letter from someone named Erik in Geneva who said that he had known me in the 80s. It turns out he was one of the international school kids who used to caddy at the Geneva Golf Club. I do in fact remember him and he says he recognized me from the band photo. Apparently he studied ethnomusicology at the University of Stockholm, with an emphasis on Balkan and gypsy music. He plays in a band himself and even played at Fast Fun’s old haunt, the Sud des Alpes. My, my.

Little Willy has been awfully quiet; perhaps he prefers to let his guitar do the talking. But I believe he is the first of us to complete the fourth cycle of twelve years and begin the fifth, and I would like to wish him many happy returns of the day. Stephen won't you please come home? Your room's clean and no one's in it.

Rock n roll granny

Saw Patti Smith on the Jay Leno show yesterday, doing "Gimme Shelter". Did she really sing "love is just a fuck away"?