Sunday morning with Miss November, The Hollies, Aaron Neville, Paul Huston, and me.

Miss November 1966, you are what all my favorite mic-wielders would disparagingly refer to as a biter. I have much better manners than that, so I will call you a swagger-jacker under my breath while acknowledging that you look pretty sexpot-ish here. But Sinatra?, EW, NO. All the cool kids were listening to Buffalo Springfield and Wilson Pickett and Donovan and James Brown and Bobby Hebb that year, missy. Go getchaself some Motown and leave the old-man music to the old men.

I hear that “Bus Stop” by The Hollies was huge in ’66 too, and would, many years later, become a driving-around-on-Sunday-listening-to-oldies-radio jammy that I fell in love with ’cause of the chords and harmonies and the “by August she was mine” part; umbrellas can be so sexy!

Also in ’66–Aaron Neville’s “Tell It Like It Is,” AKA the song we slow-dance to at the party in the heartbreaking scene in the movie version of our life together. Life is too short to have sorrow; you may be here today and gone tomorrow/You might as well get what you want, so go on and live, baby go on and live.” OH AARON. Swoon.



I’m posted up in K-Town, Miss Every Month from January through December, once again lookin a little shiny and missing my pants, but who cares ’cause

I got my apple (one per day) to keep the doctor away,
I’m all psyched on myself for getting
that shirt I said I would get goddammit,
I have essential bloggy tools like the Crackberry and my beloved Stet troop ’88 on vinyl,

I got condos in Queens, indo for weeks, I’m blowin up like you thought I would,
my whole crew is loungin.

Plug Four, far left.

And when you lie, and you talk a lot/People tell you to step off a lot


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