The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
July 17, 2005


The Triple Door was crowded, Diary, but it was very small. My friend in Seattle took me out to see a rising star in the country music world. Now country is not usually my speed, but I do have the gears for it if the mood is right. Anyway, this musican Larua Cantrell is apparently setting the world on fire with a peculiarly attractive traditional country sound. Refreshingly, there were no drums on the stage. I suddenly sound like Ginger Baker. She dedicated most of her songs. I didn't know anyone else in the United States even knew who John Peel was but apparently they were good friends. She sings with the crystalline grace, delicacy and temper of a Riedel. On top of that she plays the guitar pretty darn well. Her sad songs put me in a mood, though. I didn't go out with Kenneth. I got out of the cab a block early and walked in the rain. I ran upstairs and ordered in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They had no organic milk so I put myself at the mercy of the emerald state's dairy board.

[signed] Nick

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