2001 September 10 Monday Red Rain

Red rain is falling down

Red rain is pouring down all over me

Fifteen years ago this week, my dad brings home an 8mm Sony camcorder and a compact disc player. We're the first--maybe the second--family in the neighborhood with a CD player. One of the first CDs my dad buys is Peter Gabriel's So with its two hits from the summer of 1986.

To mark the milestone, I open my own copy of So last night. I listen to it twice today. The sound doesn't age a day, but the format is bound for obsolescence.

A girl at the office is trying to do what I do the way I do it. (It can't be done.) Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

I read one-on-one interviews in Bryant Park and get stuck in a storm. Twice.

I attend the APG East committee meeting at J. Walter Thompson. I say not a word.