2001-04-03 - 5:22 p.m.

�Downtown Judy and I hadn�t been in bed long when the phone rang�I reached across the darkness and collared the blower��What is it, pal?�, I asked, �I�m right in the middle of someone���

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. Either way, my free time dwindles like my capacity for inventive similes. As gig and film exercise a vice-like grip on my otherwise empty days, my list of things to do grows exponentially, and in abstract fashion � �mail N.� (Nathalie? Neil? Noriega?) �attend to bill� (thing or person?), �see B has Y� (begin algebra classes?). Ah well, I�m sure none of it can be that important. Puts me in mind of that old Woody Allen spoof diary : �Should I marry W.? Not if she won�t tell me the other letters in her name��

�I smoke as many as ten cigars a day, and I expect to live forever��

Tomorrow night: A stage, a microphone, a 40 minute set and a paying audience that are morally obliged to stay to the end. I love rock and roll.

�If there�s one thing I hate, I said to the beautiful woman on the aeroplane, it�s meeting a beautiful woman on an aeroplane��

Today�s special guest