2002-08-09 - 2:07 p.m.

I watched three hours of The Sopranos last night. These episodes, couched in the middle of the first season, are the best ones I've seen so far, I think. They really made me say, wow, this show is masterfully written, directed, and acted. Every nuance is important. Even the minor characters are completely believable and real. This sounds lame and untrue, but I actually was dreaming about the show last night.

On Fridays I like to walk around on my lunch hour if it's nice.

Something about the crystal-blue weather and the promise of water drew me to the fringes of the West Village today. Jane Street was tiny, and cramped, and it led to the Hudson River. So I walked it. Near the end of the road, I saw some guy who looked like James Gandolfini with a shaved head. I got closer.

It was James Gandolfini with a shaved head.

He was joking with what looked to be a nanny while loading a couple kids in a Jeep Grand Cherokee, maybe heading out to the Hamptons for the weekend.

Not much else to say but "Cool."

I turned around and walked back to work, my lunchtime mission at once revealed to me and completed.