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10 November 2001

10:37 PM: Or, Waiting For The Pizza Man, Or Someone Just Like Him.

Thursday, went to see Built to Spill. Good show. They did a bunch of Clash covers (or covers of Clash covers, e.g. "Police & Thieves"). I liked the way that the few songs of theirs I knew would be recognizable, and yet not the same as the recorded versions. Set ended with this long, long guitar cloud of glory. Brilliant - not long wanky solos, but a sustained kind of drone, inside of which each of the instruments floated in and out doing solo parts. I heard things that reminded me of Thinking Fellers, of Television, of King Crimson - just slightly, not slavishly. Very cool.

Many young people apparently taking the band's name literally. I don't know if it was just because we were standing near the door, but I have never seen that many people falling over and throwing up at a show at Slim's before.

Then later I went down to the bar, which was a mistake. Some "friend" of one of the barflies was going around tongue-kissing all the guys in the club. Not me, though. Not that she didn't try. But I'd just seen where that thing had been, no thanks. My "friends" had been taking bets on whether I would or not. That place is losing its allure.

Friday didn't happen. Neither did Today. A distant correspondent told me I would probably be single for the rest of my life. I congratulated her on her startling insight. I should be working now, but I'm not. I will be real soon, though. Promise.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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