Wednesday, April 18, 2001

Yesterday was an off day. Off, off, off. It was the sort of day when, if I'd tried to document it at the time, this writing would have been jam-packed with typos. It started with bad hair, moved on to a lunch that didn't sit well, and one cringe-worthy moment in History of Jazz followed by two hours spent trying in vain to keep my damned mouth shut and focus. Alas, Miles Davis remains a mystery.

Hopefully today will be an improvement. We have O's tickets (they're playing Cleveland tonight), and I see no noticable typos, so that's promising.

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