Last night, nice and quiet. Bill was at his folks, Juan somewhere in NJ, Song with Ray also somewhere in NJ, Julio and Stine dealing with extended family, Annemarie and Co. in Arcata, so I guess everyone was where they were supposed to be. Who knows where Harpy was, he only calls to suggest editing, and Pedro doing the thing that Pedro does with humor and innuendo. I just hung out, downloaded some Mamas and the Papas songs, and watched a pretty good documentary on Sam Cooke on PBS, which had interviews with Lou Rawls, Aretha Franklin, Bobby Womack and a surprisingly fit, Allen Klein. For those playing at home, Allen Klein was a major factor in the break up of the Beatles. Also owns the early Rolling Stones recordings up to 1971, as well as Donovan and of course, Sam Cooke.
Then I watched the usual bad news at 11:00 and wound up in bed after that, under the cool air blowing in my vicinity. It wasn’t blowing as strong as I would have liked. (Bob Allen reference?) I soon fell asleep though, only to be awoken by the sound of a monsoon around 4:30. It was a good thing I put the unit in the window since I would have had to close the windows making the bedroom a lot stuffier than it usually is. I should have closed the windows throughout the apartment but didn’t think of it at the time. Thought about it when I saw that my cellphone that I left laying on the window sill was now soaked. It barely worked after that. I didn’t pay it much attention, figuring that it would dry up and start working again. Which it is, sort of. Or at least, that’s what the cellphone has been doing all day, drying.
Fortunately it stopped raining when I left and I was not surprised that it was a lot more humid today, even after the storm than it was the past days. Today was actually when it felt like it was 100 degrees. It was uncomfortable to be in the sunlight for more than a few minutes. The storm which had some tornado elements, touched down in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn and uprooted trees and damaged houses. It also flooded rail lines and subways causing half of the office to be out and the other half rather soggy when they eventually came in. Greg Stevens came in and looked like he was in a wet dress shirt competition. I offered to run out and get him a t shirt, but he opted to go to Brooks Brothers instead and bought a new shirt since he had a reason to do so.
Carla the receptionist eventually made it in, after letting everyone in Astoria get on the subway before her. She went and had some breakfast while the crowd thinned a bit, and also went and changed her clothes since she had perspired on her previous work clothes. Smart girl. Also Brooks Brothers isn’t exactly in her budget. It was a quiet day and it crawled somewhat. I did see Billie when I went and got a salad. That place wasn’t too crowded, due to police tape outside the door. Nothing as far as I could see happened, and other people were going under the tape, gingerly stepping over the outline of a body on the sidewalk outside.
The Beastie Boys are playing a benefit at Summerstage tonight and I decided to pass. Too humid out and more than likely the rock would still be wet and muddy. Plus I’m seeing the B-52’s tomorrow night with Bill and Billie, and then on Friday, Bill and I are going to a WNBA game. No singing this time, just to enjoy the game and scope out some chicks.
Patrick Cleandenim. I’m digging his song, Until You Said I’m Gone. Check him out on iTunes. The song is worth 99 cents at least. I got it on a compilation cd from the Word Magazine from England. I buy it from time to time when I’m jonesing for some British music press. If you see the issue with Leonard Cohen on the cover, snap it up, not just for the fine writing inside, but also for the really good cd.
Here is the Daily Show’s take on Bob Allen