Drove through a thunderstorm yesterday, to pick up two spare sixth row Rolling Stones tickets at the Oakland stadium for a week from tomorrow. Ain't serendipity wonderful?

I listened to the Zero/Hunter show again in the car, loud. It's incredible. I almost drove off the road some of the jams are so intense, including some ethereal-to-raunchy flights from the guitar-y fingers of Steve Kimock. Speaking of tape, I taped the KPFA show. It was neatly edited. Briggs credited me with one transition that was manufactured after the fact. The rest of the day, I was remembering tangents that did not make the cut. I think the strongest stuff stayed in, so my hat's off the host (hope I'm spelling this right) Chupoo Alafonté, for her judicious work. She kept my entire Barbie rant, which I may now transcribe from the tape for the Barbie page.

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I woke up early this morning a little past 2 am. I was shocked and relieved, expected it was 5 at least. Slept the rest of the night fitfully, up every few hours, harrowing vivid dreams, all too similar to day-to-day reality, made the woken interludes feel like respites from the intense emotions and situations of the dreams. Woke up for good around 6:20 and peaked out the front door, looking for the New York Times on the walkway. Thought I glimpsed it there, though the sun was not up or at least not lighting much through the cloud cover yet. It'd been raining all night.

I tiptoed out barefoot in my nightshirt, walking weirdly on the balls of my feet, as if to keep my dainty toes dry. The paper was not there. There was no useless blue plastic bag letting water seep in and soak one entire fold of anything. I looked in the bushes, up and down the walkway, my feet freezing, my shoulder blades hunched against the elements. Inside again, I called 1 800 NYT-IMES, but the automated system doesn't start work till 6:30 am. I waited for a while under a blanket on the couch and then called again. This time the system passed me like a hot potato to a human operator, who told me there was a note in her computer record of my account that our paper was to be delivered at 10 am, rendering it useless as a morning crossword delivery system.

A little after 11 there was still no paper. I called again and again the computer choked on my info and handed me off to a person. This one told me that my account had been suspended since January and that their records show I have not been receiving the paper since then (although, shhh, in fact I have). Seems I paid a bill a mite too late there and they cut me off, in principle, although they did not inform me (nor, apparently, my delivery person, who's going to get a sweeet tip for the holidays this year). She restarted my account and it looks like January to November is "on the house." Only problem is she can't send me today's paper, as the account is still suspended today.