You don't need to know the time when there's no such thing as clocks

I don't even live in New York City and the news that Amazon, in the face of local public and political opposition, has canceled its planned headquarters in Queens feels like a victory.

I hope the ghost of Jane Jacobs is proud.

If I gave you forever, what would you give to me?

So the part of my day that involved two hours solid of phone calls with doctors, insurance, different doctors, different insurance, and my therapist was not so hot. (Everything is either sorted out or in the process of sorting; it just required much more bureaucracy-wrangling from me than I wanted to devote my afternoon to.) I almost fell asleep on the Red Line. I did take it one stop in the wrong direction. The sky over the Charles was molten peach and contrails, ice-blue where the evening was setting in. The part where I met spatch at Highland Fried and we had an assortment of fried and barbecued meats and tiki drinks was very nice. Their Nashville hot wings are crisp-skinned and juicy and approximate the culinary experience of eating a flash grenade, their collards sweetly astringent and porky; their St. Louis ribs really do not require either of the sauces available on the table, being thick-cut and richly carbonized down the back. Rob informs me that I looked very satisfied, rending flesh from bone morally ambiguous honey badger-style. I can't drink alcohol right now, so I asked the bar for something nonalcoholic that still tasted like a paper umbrella and they made me a Painkiller minus the rum—pineapple juice, orange juice, coconut cream, nutmeg. Rob had a Long-Suffering Bastard, which he remembers as "bourbon and brandy and tasty juices." We had no room for dessert and walked home carefully over the black ice. I believe we were on Walnut Street over the commuter rail tracks when Rob said something about our government and I said, "Yeah, well, Mitch McConnell ripped his own spine out from between his shoulder blades three years ago and laid it at the feet of the neo-Nazis to use as a bridge, so I don't really care what he thinks." Happy Valentine's Day.

P.S. I got my first royalty statement for Forget the Sleepless Shores! I am one of last year's better-selling titles of Lethe Press. I am honored and it's money and I would like people to keep buying this book, so please, if relevant, review and recommend, and I shall go on glowing. What a nice thing to receive for a holiday.