Dash for the finish line.

Not much time to write lately. And not much inspiration. Just working all the time, selling some records, trying to make ends meet, doing my damndest to get thru to Christmas...

Still tho, managing to have some fun on the way. Despite myself.

Had a late-night field trip to Times Square last night to meet Mattie and Jo at an irish music session. Then walked about in the rain and got drenched while they got food.

Spent Thanksgiving in self-imposed solitude. Walked all over the city. Had a nice quiet dinner at an indian restaurant. Was actually pretty great for a holiday.

Now I'm working straight thru for a while. Finishing off a few more pieces for musicwrite. Get a couple days off in a row next week, and run down to D.C. to see The Pixies. Which will be awesome. And will make the next couple weeks bearable. Mostly tho, it's keep my head down and sprint to make it to the 24th and the bus out of NYC. Then, it's christmas, family, friends, Charlottesville. Throw a dance party. See friends. Shake up my life a little. Sleep. Have many cheap (and free) drinks. And take a few minutes where I remember who I am, get my bearings, and get ready to tear into another year.

Gonna be a fun December. Wreck my life, and then take on 2005 with all systems go and the Strummer Effect at full-blast. The next couple weeks are just what happens to get me there.

-PAR

Comments

Farewell, Matthew S. Farrell

Matthew Farrell. Self-created raconteur, impresario, dandy, sponsor of the arts, cheerleader of creativity, perpetual inspiration. Our dear ice cream server Grace once jokingly referred to him as “the winner, and only contestant, of Charlottesville’s Oscar Wilde Lookalike Contest”, and y’know, she was pretty spot-on. Matt (I was told at various times to call him Matt, Matthew, or “just Farrell”, so to this day, I call him all those things) had his own style that was clearly modeled on his platonic ideal of a perfect gentleman. And this gentleman dressed like a Fitzgerald character, talked like a continental aristocrat who summered in some undefined New England coastal village, and walked like Groucho Marx. He smoked unfiltereds, often two at once, just for kicks, which he would hold when gesticulating excitedly as he greeted dear friends or total strangers. Pretentious? Yeah, a bit. Sincere? Always. Distinctive? Absolutely. At some point, I think I recall him saying someth...

Dumpling Imposter.

As in all things, success will bring imitation. Nowhere is this more apparent than here in New York, where you can walk down the street and be assailed by endless tables filled with "designer" handbags and genuine "Hilfigger" sunglasses for sale. It's an inevitability that any product that does well will be aped by those who're looking for a quick buck. Ofttimes, the knock-offs can't be spotted without careful inspection. The average passerby wouldn't know the difference. So, do not be fooled. This is the real thing: This is not: Yes, it's true. There is a Dumplinganger. An upstart that not only moves into the same business that Lucas (the Dumpling Man) has so carefully cultivated, but rips off the distinctive logo. It's an incredibly brazen attempt to cash in on the goodwill and business that Dumpling Man has earned over the last six months. And whomever's behind it is so blatant as to position themselves only three blocks awa...

Merry Rump-Mas!

In the traditional fashion for this festive season, I hereby present your recommended dosage of holiday cheer: GIANT GLOWING INFLATABLE SANTA BOOTY! Have a wonderful holiday season, and don't say I never gave you nuthin'. -PAR

And... Go.

Search This Blog