Did the show on WFMU after a hearty breakfast at the Flamingo cafe next door.

My waistline is expanding again <sigh>

Watched girls playing baseball in a park on the lower east side, very good game

Sat around and then discussed life with an ex punk called Harris, bought a book off his stall “How to be Cool”.

Joined procession of 1500 police motorcycles. It was a demo that had traveled up from Pennsylvania at the site of the 911 crash then via Washington DC and on into New York at ground zero. I was singled out by other police riders, one screaming at me as we rode along “to get the hell out” … Evntually the marshalls allowed this Englishman to ride with them at the end of the procession. People cheered us all the way in, it was most odd!

I mooched around low-riders parked up on Broadway, entered the plush carpeted 42nd street Hotel, hosting the police riders’ reception.

25 years ago I stayed at the Hyatt along the street – alone in New York with my experimental portable colour computer, Picsell. Now, I felt very alone and lost, the police women and men chatting – all wearing uniforms from all over the country. I did not belong  and went back onto the highway 1 and 9 to find a cheap room with no window.