Something older, something brand new. Dot Allison used to sing for One Dove, a band whose music slingshots me right back to those frollicking ecstasy days of 1994 with JP, Dayle and company. I just picked up Allison’s first solo album, Afterglow, at Amoeba. Interpol comes my way via my de-facto music guru Michael up in Portland. I dunno how he does it, but he does it. He sent me this disc a couple weeks ago. I didn’t realize until tonight that it’s not even due for a release until late September. All of a sudden I feel like an insider.
It’s late. I finished a semi-shift at Amoeba tonight, working for Sara, who’s in New York shooting a jeans commercial with Tony Kaye (the director, not the former Yes keyboardist.) It was a pretty ho-hum evening, though Corey Feldman dropped by to inquire about a flick. We all wondered if it bothered him that the mezzanine sports a large poster of Corey Haim behind the info counter. I remember his asking me about the movie. But from what I could tell, he didn’t even see the poster.
I’m surprised I see as many celebrities up there as I do. I expected to see far fewer than we used to at Rocket. Not so. There’s just less of an opportunity to talk to them. Unless, as in the case of Quentin Tarantino, they just walk up and ask me where the martial arts movies are…
Nothing to report on the impending downward financial spiral. Boss did call me today, but I couldn’t take the call, because I was leading Mr. Feldman to the discount DVD’s. His message tells me he’s leaving town and he wants to meet so he can give me a check before he does [I accidentally typed “dies” just then] That’s a promising start. I just hope he takes it well when I remind him that he owes me two checks, not just one.
And thanks to those of you who’ve written to offer job assistance, empathy and/or automatic weapons. I’m sure everything will be cool. And hey, if you want an extra dose of coolness, check out Alexa’s interesting blog. She’s just getting the ball rolling over there in NY, but if she hangs in there, she could have a winner on her hands. A New York Escorts Confessions is frank, entertaining and sexy. Check it out.
And don’t give her grief about the apostrophe. It’s a style choice.