Living in coronavirusworld 155: Too soon. Just way too soon.

9/1

Too soon. Just way too soon

September 1. Damn. Walking past Dunkin' Donuts I see my first “Pumpkin Spice” notice of the year. No, just no. Too soon. Just way too soon. Summer just raced past without touching any of its marks. The US Open is on. Without fans, No annual day at the Open with my friend Beppe. No sitting in a baseball stadium with my son. No picnic and wine on the Great Lawn with friends listening to the Philharmonic. No hours sitting in line in Central Park waiting for Shakespeare. Or random Shakespeare performances by earnest young actors in every park. No minor league ball on Coney Island or Staten Island. No playing live Porch Stomp music on Governor’s Island or outdoors everywhere for Make Music New York. All gone. Well, there were the usual empty August city streets. But everyone left months ago.  Sometimes I am really tired of trying to smile through yet one more virtual experience. We are doing our best, we really are, but……

been there....

See a painting about “Music in your home” on a Harlem cafe security gate. Yeah, we all know what that’s about.

Out to the Side Car Studio in Queens for a day’s recording session. First trip to Queens in five months. Where working  people have backyards and cars.  Two more boroughs to go on my "first time back" tour. For the first  time in my life,  I’ve got an ep’s worth of topical songs to record. And I want to get them out before the election.  This damn President  just keeps giving me more material. As we map out the recordings, I remember singing some of these with my band, back in February at the  Peoples’ Voice Cafe. But my newer ones I’ve never sung with a human being. I’m looking forward to doing this, getting them out. Having a say. I get home 6  hours later, tired, but feeling good.