Courtesy of the ever-readable Little Professor, here goes nothing:
– I am getting ready to go downstairs and catch a cab that will take me to a midtown recording studio, where I’ll be taping an episode of a new radio show hosted by John Pizzarelli.
– I want a Morandi etching.
– I wish I lived by a river, a lake, or the sea.
– I hate cell phones used in inappropriate places and fashions.
– I love my family, my friends, my work (and the art it requires me to consume), and the Teachout Museum.
– I miss my home town.
– I fear death. (Why beat around the bush?)
– I hear the faint sound of traffic on Columbus Avenue and the soft purr of my iBook.
– I wonder if the weather will be nice when I take a couple of days off next week and head for one of my Secure Undisclosed Locations.
– I regret not having spent more afternoons in Central Park.
– I am not quite as patient as I wish I were.
– I dance under no circumstances whatsoever.
– I sing in tune, but in an uninteresting bass-baritone voice.
– I cry fairly often, usually for no good reason.
– I am not always considerate (though I try to be).
– I make with my hands the occasional omelet.
– I write in a near-micrographic hand that my friends claim is attractive-looking. (To me it looks like a scrawl.)
– I confuse…er, nothing that comes immediately to mind, though I find that the names of good friends slip my mind from time to time. Such is middle age!
– I need to take a shower and eat a little something before I head for the studio. (It might also be a good idea to put on some clothes.)
– I should start writing the sixth chapter of Hotter Than That: A Life of Louis Armstrong–but not yet!
– I start reading more books than I finish.
– I finish writing Hotter Than That eleven months from now (D.V.!, D.V.!).
– I tag Our Girl, of course.