I'm happier pretending Miles' post-silence recordings don't exist. In my mind Miles walked off stage after recording Pangea (and yes, I know it was recorded in Japan and wasn't his last pre-silence work), got in his Ferrari (or maybe the lime green Lamborghini Miura he crashed), and drove off into immortality.

I'm only watching that if it's about his efforts to toilet train cats - the domestic kind, not the jazz kind.

I'm holding out for the Kai Winding Story.

I'll bet the Miles Davis movie is better.

I love Blade Runner, but if you can watch the scene with M. Emmet Walsh in the police station without cringing, you're a better man than I.

He's great too. Slipped my mind.

I had 13 Ghosts on cassette!

Possibly the greatest badly acted (emphatically not Rutger Hauer) movie ever. It almost doesn't matter, though.

For those of you wondering what it might have been like - at the ripe old age of 19 - to share the back seat of a cab with a high and drunk Charlie Parker (and an anonymous woman) while he simultaneously engaged in soixante-neuf and ate fried chicken, Miles: the Autobiography by Miles Davis and Quincy Troupe is here…

Both of the Gawker individual defendants struck me as the kind of people who weren't going to listen, no matter how much they were prepped. Such people exist, as I've learned to my detriment.

Judgment only has one e - perhaps the only useful thing I learned in law school.

Thanks for ruining my day, Internet stranger.

Seen and Not Seen

Birth! School! Work! Death!

Using myself as a yardstick, 2 oxygen tanks, three weekly visits and one sign. Isn't it kind of shocking to find that you are older than two presidential candidates?

Wow. Just wow.

That's actually Potter Stewart, not Ed Meese.

It's not a rip-off, it's an HOMage! I'm pretty sure I was this in the theater, yet I have no memory of it at all. I guess Jim Carey didn't really enter my consciousness until In Living Color. Now, if only he'd leave it. . .

Started reading SPQR by Mary Beard. Quo usque tandem abutere, Trump, patientia nostra? Listened to Django Reinhardt, Wes Montgomery and Monk (Paris 1969).

Yes, you did.