HOOKED

Don't tell me I don't know what it feels like to be addicted. I'm just not on crack, that's all. But if you saw me going from record shop to record shop during the past couple days, taking handsful of CDs back to the counter, you would witness what being hooked is all about.

I left my CD player in New York. And I didn't bring one CD with me. Now, I have 40 CDs, almost all jazz. I had been thinking of shipping the CDs to New York but thought better of it. Better to ship some non-essentials like clothes and my other pair of shoes and keep the music close to my body, all the way home. You see, it is tough to consider having lost my 40-year-old collection of jazz because I once let them out of my sight.

Somebody, stop me before I start singing the King Pleasure version of Moody's Mood for Love on Nevsky Prospekt!

PBB