August 16 – Steely Dan – Aja

As cool as I always thought Steely Dan is, I never owned any of their albums. Not until the Trouble Buddy package arrived earlier this summer. My two favorite Steely Dan songs, “Dirty Work” and “Hey Nineteen,” oh and “My Old School,” so that’s three, are not on Aja. However, it does have “Peg,” which would be in the top ten, and some other good tunes. What I like about Walter Fagan and Donald Becker, is their different sound, and vivid lyrics. Vivid in the way they conjure up clear images through the stories. Can’t you just see Fagan slapping the side of his head, while explaining to his 19-year-old conquest, who Aretha Franklin is, with gentle exasperation? And what is wrong with Ricky anyway that he shouldn’t lose that number, the only one he’ll want? I did not, however, exercise to Aja, but it did make an appearance for company, and it just happens to be on the turntable now. Which is on, and spinning. And sound is coming out. It’s actually making me want to go out and get more Steely Dan, and that is not a bad idea.

Here’s a bit of good news that happened to me today. Each Sunday morning, I walk across the highway to have breakfast at Tribeca’s Kitchen, a diner/restaurant on Church Street. I bring my laptop and the latest victim in my series of erotic murder stories, and get work done while being served my omelet, no potatoes, fruit cup and coffee. You may remember how I lamented leaving Bayside and the diner I would go to at least weekly, and having the busboy/man place a cup of coffee at my favorite table for one before my butt hit the seat, and the waitresses asking if I’d like the usual. Today, the waiter that usually serves me at this place that I’ve been coming to pretty regularly for the past few months, placed a cup of coffee on my table as he passed based on assumption. A correct assumption. They seem to have no problem seating me at a booth for four, without me ever asking, which is great for spreading out the computer and notebooks. The food too. Today and last week, the fruit cup has contained just strawberries, blueberries and blackberries, cause the waiter knows I’m into the berries. And now, the busman will refill my cup until I tell him I don’t want to see him again. He understands that I mean until next time. Yes, even in the 92 degree weather we’re having today, I must have my diner coffee. I really like this place, and would come here more often if it was closer to home and/or work.

And now, I must go and work on the story. My victim in this one is so deplorable, I’ve already killed him after the sex part and just have to work in the rest of his story from all my notes and scribbles.