'well, joan, the good news is that we'd love to host you, but

...the bad news is that it's for a concert of one hit wonders. actually, it's not even a concert. it's a race -- the run hit wonder, get it, joan? -- and there is no admission fee. just a sweaty, tired, captive audience.' that's how i imagine the concert between the nike people and joan jett to have gone. i mean, talk about bittersweet: a paid invite, but you're admitting to the world that you, too, see yourself as a has-been. funny and sad. but at least she got top billing and the stage: fountains of wayne got a spot somewhere between mile one and two, with a big sign that said, 'FOUNTAINS OF WAYNE.' i don't believe jerry garcia ever needed a sign.

i ran into some lovely people, some known and some newly met: dr. k. ('what is that mark on your leg? how long has it been there?' bless him.), some guy whose name i'll never remember: 'i know you, those eyes, when have we met?' (and then it clicked-- hail mary is all i gotta say...), m. who i never found after the race, but i am sure finished before me (as he's wont to do), then i met these groovy ladies, about my age, when waiting for joan's classics: what can i say, mockery brings the world together... i could tell the spunky one from the uws was after my thingy, the chill one from ues didn't seem tuned into that, though. the three of us spoke about how old joan is, how jacked she is (hail mary indeed--), and then i posed the question about joan's tattoo artist: ordinary guy in practice, or a *special* artist to the stars? the chill one thought it would depend on WHEN they were done. very astute, my chill friend... when i said i thought joan was on my team, spunky girl got a lot less, um, spunky.

then 'i hate myself for loving you' came on after an hours worth of her 'from my new album' crap. i sang like it was my day job and started yelling, 'joan, i love you! come back! all is forgiven!'

glad i got a concert after the run, even if it were death metal: other runs are so anti-climactic: you run, you get a bagel and banana, you leave. this was grand, but nyrrc needs to haul ass on posting the results... get to it kids... i didn't run in 94 degree weather for the fun of it. wait...