Our Rousing Battle Cry: "Want Some Juice?"

Another full-on day. Up at eight; Andy worked on his album until noon, while I wrote and revised from the northernmost colonnade (adjacent to the impeccibly manicured rose gardens). At one, a call from Rat Bastard. The Squelchers had arrived, and were reserving seats for us at Epices du Traiteur, the small, unpretentious North African bistro on West 70th. On the way to the restaurant, AWK and I locked a first-look development deal for our Sleater-Kinney biopic. (We've been talking to Mary Steenbergen about playing Carrie, and comedianne Lisa Lampanelli is in negotiations to portray Corin. Kathy Griffin nailed her "Janet" audition, but there might be schedule conflicts on her horizon. Check here for additional details as the project evolves.) Arrived at Epices, and LRS had already ordered. Can't blame them, as they'd been up all night recording with The Dirty Dozen Brass Band at a Cambridge studio. (Max played me a DAT of the session; she and Alex fucking wailed on the Ray Charles classic "Jealous Kind.") Frank ordered grilled rib lamb chops and merguez for the LRS crew and AWK, while I tucked into a fat tank of O2. Delicious!

Experienced a major ephipany at my voice lesson. (More on that later, perhaps.) Juice and juice afterwards.

Later met with Don at HQ for another lengthy edit fiesta. Lots of progress. Mr. Fleming is departing for a family vacation on the 2nd, and thus we were obliged to cut his remaining vocal tracks. This took us well past fail-safe for attending the LRS blowout at Tonic. (We didn't wrap until 11:30.) Regrets? More than a few. (Six, to be exact.) Sincere apologies to Rat, the Squelchers, and channels that remained untuned. (At least by these fingers.)

New bootleg DVDs: Mahavishnu Orchestra (four lengthy clips instead of the usual three found on the majority of MO discs sold at Manhattan stalls), Velvet Monkeys (a very cool electronic set from 1987).

Cherie arrived with gym passes and tons of food from Pita Grill. Duality is golden. Scott's "Montague Terrace" wafts on the rolling red tide.

Dad turned 79, Elvira sent photos from her camping trip, and all is well in New York.

Love,

TS

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