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In a Cab

It's almost four in the morning and I'm in a cab coming back to Brooklyn from Manhattan - not, unfortunately, because I've been having one of the few long-distant nights of my youth where I stayed up until dawn but because I'm trying to get as much work done when my kids are asleep. Of course some of the absolute shittiest work I've had to do for this job, in eight years, would happen a week before I quit.

But at least I get to take a car home. I was out of town for eleven days or so and it is absolutely incredible how much I missed the city, even though I rarely leave a dozen square blocks of central Brooklyn now, so I'm actually enjoying a drive that takes me through a couple of my old neighborhoods.

I just realized I'm so tired I've absolutely forgotten what I meant to say. I'm listening to a Melon's album I first bought when I was seventeen and I absolutely remembering listening to "Club Mekon" and trying to decide if I liked it or not.

Earlier today I was at the playground with the kids and noticed a woman wearing a Dead Moon t-shirt, identical to my own Dead Moon tank top; Dead Moon, it seems to me, is the ultimate parent band, managing to be a band of parents that is not at all Dad Rock. In fact I have never seen someone in a Dead Moon shirt that did not have a kid with them. But honestly having a Dead Moon shirt is maybe the best predictor that I will want to hang out with someone. I'm now wondering how I can start a Dead Moon Appreciation and Parenting Society in my neighborhood