Jonathan Richman left a message on the radio station phone sometime this week (when I checked it this afternoon) while he was in Asheville asking for a mailing address so he could send "Mika 'n Errric a PACKAGE" of albums he'd been listening to recently, HOLY CRAP.

& HOLY SHIT.

I wish I hadn't had to go to stoopid DC for a stooooopid interview that I probably won't even get, because then I could have been here Tuesday, Wednesday, AND Thursday all sitting in the office, waiting to talk to a national treasure (but on the phone this time). Seriously. He is larger than life, and/or immortal, or at least should be.