When I was a kid, summer wasn't over until after Labor Day. You had that last long, sad, quiet week-end before you gathered up your empty notebooks and sharpened your pencils and re-enlisted.
Someone walked the calendar back a week or two since then because not only are all the kids back in school, but this morning down on the street buying coffee and orange juice I felt that sweet chill that cuts into the wind around here.
Feels like football and Canada and leather coats and Halloween.
We burn and melt all summer long here in Rat City and the winter freezes over with black ice and dark afternoons, but there are four weeks out of the year, two in September and two in April, four weeks that keep you loving this hard, hard town.
Autumn in New York. Stuns the most jaded eyes and makes you believe in everything.
I believe everybody got the afternoon Monday Morning Music Quiz right.
Mike, Ann and Rose are all going back to school and all of us here at the Museum are paying the tuition. School of your choice, just please don't become a dentist.
If you're going to go to all that trouble and expense, become a proper doctor.
Back to the factory floor tonight with The Invitation. We go into tech on Sunday, so time to tighten that bastard up.
And save the date:
Sunday, September 14 at Barrow Street Theater, Matt Oberg speaks aloud the words of The Event, written and directed by me. A one-night only engagement. We want to see how it works in a big house.
All right. Back to it.