It's not a night for sandals

It is amazing sometimes, the kind of rich soul-nourishment you can get from a cup of decent Irish tea and a sandwich of two easy single slices, on white toast, with butter, sometimes.

That's American cheese slices for the Americans, and the whole concept is just too difficult to translate for the Danes. It's the kind of comfort you get from a slice of rugbroed with leverpostej, I guess.

Of course, the cool thing is that you can get organic easy singles here. From a 24 hour supermarket a couple of blocks away.

It's a windy night, and the air is cold. Most of my clothes are summery so I've got to make a few visits to Beacon's Closet - a huge thrift store up in Billyburg and another branch down on the Slope - and have a look around for some warm stuff.

As I was walking along Flatbush tonight, I had some thoughts about being in new york on a saturday night and not feeling like rocking out, or travelling, but feeling like something human, and not having a lover, and not really having any friends here yet of the sort I could just call up and feel always welcome with. And not having a guitar. I suppose that's what I like about places like Freddy's. It's that kind of vibe, a regular spot, with friendly regulars. But even Freddy's gets busy on the weekend.

And that's just how it goes, you know? The rough with the smooth. That's just how it goes in new york city and anywhere else.

Hey, I saw an old interview of Tom Waits on Letterman, from 1984. Letterman asks him, "how would you describe new york?" And he says, "Well... it's like a big ship. (pauses) And the water's on fire."