Dinner With Paul.

Lost in all the glorious splendor

that

is

catching up.

Paul speaks of Atletico Madrid

which, if you’ve been drinking

sounds a bit like Leonard Cohen–

We’ve not seen each other in as many months as it takes to make a baby.

We’ve missed each other.

But closed the shutters, no less.

He with his album.

Me with my book.

He doesn’t know about my blog,

or much about Leonard, really.

We talk about music.

Making money out of music.

And then I play him this,

which he’s also unfamiliar with…

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