Beached

Here during what is essentially the last gasp of summer, my quest to be re-instated into the work force seems to be stuck in irons, to use some incongruous sailing terminology. "It's the summer doldrums," friends and well-wishers inform me, "anyone who'd even consider hiring you is on vacation right now." I'm attempting to take some comfort in that theory, being that my cell phone has been deafeningly silent and my e-mail inbox has been utterly bereft of content in the last couple of weeks. As such, I've been taking more time out in Quogue to make the most of the summer. Still, I can't stop myself from feverishingly checking my e-mail at every conceivable opportunity. It's quite frustrating.

Having such a large amount of free time on my hands has been a bizarre luxury, but I'm sincerely hoping things will pick back up again after Labor Day. I came back into the city this week as my friend Rob M., a fellow member of The Gathering and erstwhile lead screamer for the ferocious Headcount, is coming to NYC for the first time and I've been drafted as tour guide, which will invariably involve visiting many record stores and many bars. That should be fun.

I'll be back out to join Peggy and kids in Quogue before the end of the week for the fleeting, final days of the season. The end of the summer is always a melancholy time, but with so much on the line these days, I honestly cannot wait for it to hurry up and end so I can get on with my damn life.

As always, stay tuned.