if music be the food of love, rock on

I'm coming home tomorrow, back to LA from London for those playing the home game. Hamlet was [superlative], cazling makes a mean wingman, and I have stories and a review for all of you scribbled on dozens of notebook pages just waiting to be keyed in.

Until then, please wish me a safe and turbulence-free flight across the Atlantic -- there's thunderstorms all around the rim and across Canada and I'm having pre-flight nerves already. It's just past midnight here in south London and I leave at the crack of dawn to chase noon across America and land, jetlagged, eleven hours later in LA tomorrow afternoon. Picture a white light around the plane for me, as we say in my family.

My world was indeed rocked. Watch this space. I love you!