Well here I am again, standing behind the counter at the cigar shack. Thomas is pounding out a rhythm, totally flat and off beat, his titanium ring hitting the wood of the counter and making quite a noise. No charm in that.

It’s been a better day than yesterday, time is flying by- not like the other day when it really zoomed but faster than yesterday. I finally finished the Keith Richards autobiography and I enjoyed it very much.

He explained how he fell off the ladder in his library as well as falling out of a tree in Fiji. He says he did not snort his father’s ashes and I believe him. That story came after his brain surgery and the doctor told him, ‘No more bumps’ which means no more cocaine.

And the story went that Keef mixed up his father’s ashes with some blow. His relationship with Mick is like 2 brothers, bitchy and forever intertwined. I can relate to that somehow.

Now perhaps I can get back to the New Yorker where I am reading about Jane Fonda and I have not even cracked open Mojo or Uncut yet. I’ve been carrying it around in my bag since I bought it a few weeks ago.

Listening to Bob Dylan’s Love & Theft in the store right now. It could be my favorite Dylan album. Bob is going to be 70 in a few weeks. I saw him in the 1990’s but did not stay for the whole show.

At the time I was more interested in seeing Patti Smith who just came out of exile after Fred Smith passed away. Bob was nice enough to offer her the opening slot on the tour and she wisely took it.

I went with my Weehawken roommate William. It was odd being in the lobby of the Beacon Theater and seeing familiar faces of people that I had assumed that had died a while ago. The look of shock on my face was more than likely noticeable.

Patti Smith was enjoyable and since I was not so much into Dylan at the time, we left midway through his set. I didn’t get it and I think he was doing Alabama Getaway when William and I made a hasty exit. Not into the Grateful Dead at all you see.

Right now I am downloading the Roches self-titled debut album. I’ve always liked them and was fortunate to see them twice, once at Town Hall as the Roches and once at the Bottom Line as the Caroling Carolers.

When I worked at Farfetched I would play Keep on Doing, the Roches third album often and almost every time I would play it, someone would ask if they were hearing the Roches and when I would answer affirmatively they would almost always go on about how much they loved them.

I also have to confess that I had a crush on Margaret A. Roche for the longest time, nothing sexual just a sheer admiration since she wrote some of their most beautiful songs. I have their debut on vinyl somewhere but I felt I needed to have The Hammond Song on mp3 and on my iPod.

And of course the Roches tie into the Wainwright family thanks to Loudon’s wandering eye. I expect to be playing it at the cigar shack tomorrow. That should raise a few eyebrows. Hey, if you’re in the neighborhood, stop on by and say hello. Just don’t be a douche.

Now I am home and quite happy to be here. Bill is awake, first time in days that he’s been awake when I walked through the door. It’s nice to see him in a vertical position.