Ivors Week
I’ve had a sweet career. Most of my pop songwriting days are behind me. I’m ok with that. I’ve had hundreds of disappointments but a handful of bangers (as they say here in London) that have lead to some magical opportunities and adventures. I get to go out there and pretend I’m the rock star I never was. I get to sit at a table near the stage and witness Paul and Bruce. I take nothing for granted.
Crossing The Pond
There’s a slight kerfuffle at boarding. We wait in the tunnel for 20 minutes at a standstill. Is something wrong with the plane? Are they reattaching the exit door? Is this a Boeing? I’m poised to call American Express with whom I booked my flight to ask what my options are. And do I have a change of underwear in my carry-on? I used to be a free man in Paris. And everywhere else. Not any more. What happened? 😳
