Archive for 2011

So, you asked me about the social network…

You asked me what it is like living within the social media explosion, since I was around before most people even had personal computers, circa 1992, and I’ve been wondering why you asked, and why the question bothers me so much. In some way I feel you asked my age, or some personal question for which the answer is apparent, but the meaning is not. And yet I don’t want to put a wedge between the curious and the cat,

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Happy Birthday Bob Dylan

My father was sparing with his comments but one day he quoted Bob Dylan, “I wish that for just one day you could stand in my shoes, you’d know what a drag it is to see you.” Positively 4th st. I walked out of the apartment and said to myself, “That’s what I am”, a song writer. I was 9 years old and the city was mine, the music was written for it, and the harmonica bounced like light off the wind shields and store fronts.

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Wedding Day

You won’t believe this, because I can’t believe it myself, but this Royal Wedding is making me smile. I feel there is a rebirth of something classic, like the way Virginia Woolf writes about Big Ben, in Mrs Dalloway, and Orlando, that clock which is eternally pulling us into the present-or bust.

When I used to read Jane Austin I squirmed because I wanted that world to be true, but thought only she was true,

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I’m sad happy

Dash said last night, “I’m happy. Sad happy.” In my own way I feel the sorrow of growing, of seeing, of learning. On the one hand I’ve met profoundly committed people since 2008, people who put their lives on hold and sometimes never get back to them because they discover an injustice in our society and they want to expose it, right it. And I’ve also met people who have sold their souls to the extent they seem to be mind controlled,

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Someone You love may be crossing

It was an evening business meeting at Hollys house, our Broadway producer, our Hollywood producer, potential investors and guacamole. A woman from next door walked in through the garden doors that hung open with weight of night blooming Jasmine, smartly East Coast and fixed on reaching the couch with no detours or small talk. She was a friend of the New York guy.

I liked her immediately, I introduced myself and sat down next her.

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