A guitarrist of no particular age, wearing a hat that obscured his face, and sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk, in the manner of a snake charmer. Directly in front of him were two wind-up monkeys, one with a tambourine and the other with a drum. With the one shaking and the other banging, beating out a weird and precise syncopation, the man would improvise endless tiny variations on his instrument, his body swaying stiffly back and forth, energetically miming the monkeys' rythm. He played jauntily and with flair, crisp and looping figures in the minor mode, as if glad to be there with his mechanical friends, enclosed in the universe he had created, never once looking up. It went on and on, always finally the same, and yet the longer I listened the harder I found it to leave.
(Paul Auster, "City of Glass")
John really wants to be a professional musician, yet shamelessly insists on managing a call center. He records and plays all of the instruments on each of the the tracks he posts to this site. He's learning the mandolin and keyboard, loves harmony, non sequiter, and Shatner. A native Bostonain, he grew up in Jamaica Plain, lived in Allston for a couple of years, and quite happily makes his home in Somerville.
I'm glad to hear that todavia somos amigos. I was afraid we weren't. Let's make plans for sometime soon. After this weekend I am free of all theatre obligations, sadly...but it gives me time to get together with ustedes.
