Administrative Note: Bronx Is Up, Bowery's Down

My people, I have to tell you that right now I am in a state of utter chaos and disarray the likes of which I have never experienced. It is also known as "packing." Did I mention that I'm moving? Oh, well, if I didn't, I am. Leaving Chicago. Moving to New York City. Should be good times; I've wanted to live in New York ever since I was little and I read Jill Krementz's A Very Young Dancer. (Sidebar: The other day I was flipping through the liner notes of Bob Dylan's Biograph and noticed that some of the photos were taken by Jill Krementz. Interesting, no?)

A lot of my favorite music has roots in New York; many of my favorite albums have something to do with New York—Paul's Boutique, The Velvet Underground and Nico, Midnight Marauders, and Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea come to mind. I don't know if New York has a "sound," but if it does (jazz?), I think those records rep the city pretty well. I want all my days there to sound something like that.

Moving. Yeah, aside from the gagillion things I have to do in the next seven (!) days, I'm pretty excited. Nervous to find a new job, nervous to meet new people, but overall, excited. I'm a tough kid from Steel Valley Ohio—I can duck and weave when necessary. I'll be A-OK. I think. Ask me in a few months. Fibonacci and I are looking at this as a sort of experiment, with the understanding that if the rose-colored glasses get knocked off our faces, we'll pack up camp and head for other pastures.

Right. So, why am I telling you all this? Well, you may have noticed that the posts around here lately have leaned toward "all filler" and "no killer." Lists! Memes! Boring! It's going to be that way for the next month, at least, I'm afraid. I'm just giving you fair warning now because I love you. Hang in there with me, yeah? And I'll check you at Gray's Papaya. The Recession Special is on me.