Archives for May 3, 2004

“She reached a quick arm around my neck and started to pull. So I kissed her. It was either that or slug her.”

Raymond Chandler, The Little Sister

It’s been raining all day, or since the beginning of time–I can’t remember.

I spent the morning filling out an inch-thick form.

I put on a suit and tie and went downtown for a meeting.

By the time the meeting was over, all the cabs in Manhattan had dissolved in the late-afternoon rain, leaving only a dirty yellow slick in the gutters.

When I finally got home, I was very, very wet.

For these reasons and others like them, I have consumed no art of any sort today, except for a couple of fugitive glances at the Teachout Museum and a few paragraphs of The Big Sleep gulped down in between bites of a midday sandwich that bore only a coincidental resemblance to the one I ordered.

That’s all I have to say. If you want to read something good, don’t waste any more time on me–go look at Maud’s prize-winning story instead.

See you tomorrow, if it stops raining. Maybe.