The big jar of preserved lemons finally got opened last night, so I could chop up a quarter of one and fry it up with some string beans and sugar snap peas, and what do you know: it worked. Another quarter of one got used tonight with the collards and rice. I think it now qualifies as a "secret weapon."

Sad news of the day: The Media is on hiatus, indefinitely. (Personally, I blame Enron.) Must... start... new... band! Actually, Lisa & I have started playing with the four-track together--we're finally executing my years-old idea of trying to arrange and record 30-second a cappella versions of every song on No New York. Last night we did "Dish It Out," "Puerto Rican Ghost" and "Not Moving." Not like these are for anyone else's ears, you understand...

Soul Fire just sent me a package of New New Super Heavy Funk--the Grazing in the Trash comps, the Whitefield Brothers, etc. Oh, how good they are. This kind of funk is just not the same if everything's in tune.

Lisa's put a bunch of her wonderful kissing booth photos from Burning Man 2001 up--have a look!

And, okay, fine, everyone's doing it: what do you know about me?