Still a few folks short for the 13 Hallucinations of Julio Rivera reading at NYTW this Thursday. Found a great Julio, kid named Carlo Alban, thanks to the good folks at Labyrinth. Need some voices. Two high baritones, I'm told, but I'd settle for sober baritones at this point.
Thank you very much, I'll be here all week. Try the veal.
Typing this from Mary and Ambrose's compound out in the Sovereign Republic of Remsenberg. Remsenberg is not Speonk, I am assured by all here in Speonk, but it doesn't show up on any maps and the signs are scarce. One of those hidden towns of Long Island, shimmering in the Atlantic light.
And Ambrose, my godfather and spiritual guide, (I use the term "godfather" in the Roman Catholic sense, meaning I'm part of his Jersey crew, in charge of sanitation and gambling) has once again shown me the light. I'm babbling about Eels and Eelwax Jesus and he puts me down and puts on the North Mississippi All-Stars and leads me to understand that the Mississippi Boll Weevil Ain't Got No Natural Home, Lordy.
The boys can play.
Liberty Theater update on its way, a lot of good things moving there. Nancy and I will be back in Rat City this afternoon and get back to the biz.
Monday Morning Music Quiz, in honor of the Mississippi All-Stars:
Which of the following fine principalities is not an actual place in the great state of Mississippi?
1. Hot Coffee, Mississippi
2. Alligator, Mississippi
3. Las Vegas, Mississippi
4. Midnight, Mississippi
I've been to two of the towns above and am always in one, in my mind.