don’t go.

Shannon says nothing ever really happens on Mike’s porch, and Eben says sometimes people get haircuts, and Friday night I was wearing a different hat when handed a reason to see Camera Obscura at the Paradise next Saturday, which is all a way of saying that everyone needs a change of scenery. Tomorrow I’ll pay somebody to teach me how to hold a violin, and if nothing else it will put me on a bus I’ve never ridden — on a Tuesday, when Tuesdays used to mean watching magicians in Harvard Square whose routines I’d memorized three times over, drinking punch from a bowl common to six people.

It snowed tonight, the first time in weeks, and I need new clothes.