I realized that I owned Roxy Music only on dusty cassettes and today bought the greatest distilled hits in compact discationalized format and this sates the desire.
I also bought the new Ryan Adams and a local jazz blower was in the record shoppe as I was looking and said Bryan Adams? in ironic squeakiness. To which I karate chopped him in the head. Then we stood around for a quick moment and attempted to warble out a few Bryan Adams gems - or non-gems, whichever the case may be.
This AM I was in the throes of secret service/VH1/Adelphia/Hillary Clinton swells of freelance activity and shot everything in sight, as they say out in the beer-drenched autumnal woods.
There was one hot secret service guy and somehow I was distracted away from photographing him for my "Hunks of the S.S." collection.
A fab femme from VH1 dropped a deadline bomb on my lap by stating that she needed jpegs of selected images - ASAP/NOW/PDQ - so most of my early evening was tied up with scooting/editing/scanning/naming/jpeging/emailing.
Life is a delicious deadline and don't forget it.