Waiting in line at the check out, NYC.
Washington Heights, Broadway, beneath the swoop to the George Washington Bridge.
Midtown Manhattan Diamond District. NYC.
Late afternoon rain sweep down the East River, NYC, after the heat of a long pre-summer Sunday.
iPhone out the window.
What to say? I have always loved my records which were bought back in the day after much scrimping and saving for the absolute favourites, to have and to hold in my hands with love forever, never ever to part.
Solace in moments of delicious loneliness they wear their needle scratches much as I wear now the lines on my face but hear the songs, the tracks of your youth, and the years peel away. Forever young.
Unbelievably (why do I say this?) Bob Dylan and Van Morrison among others will be playing concerts during the summer out at Forest Hills in Queens. Do I want to be there? You bet! But I’m on the move in and out of NYC over the summer and I can’t commit to tickets, on the assumption that they’re not sold out already.
So Happy Birthday Bob, what’s 75 years when we were all so much older then but younger than that now?
Harlem sunset . . . . NYC.
Totting up the tab in New York City deli world . . .