Had a birthday and got feted, free-lunched, fully loved upon the earth. But within a week or two, I was kind of blah, holding back a certain low-level despair, appalled to see political machinations drag down progressive ideas, kind of pissy, not sleeping too well, feeling creatively stymied and generally feckless and fatigued.
Then my old friend Peter Stein sent me a link to this guy, Peter Mulvey, who will kill you softly, telling your whole life with his words, as it were, and playing the absolute ass off his guitar. Dig it:
I'm robbing two Peters to pay back an appall. And whaddya know, I had a little breakthrough on a script idea I've been wrestling with. Found a better way.
If only it were always so easy.