Justin Bond at Joe’s pub last night with Jake and Joan.

A slight show but worth the effort because Martha Wainwright sang two enchanting songs.  Two few.  We were desperate for more.

You know that I love and have always loved the McGarrigle’s.

Of course there are extraordinary similarities between Martha and her mother Kate McGarrigle.  Joan, Joe, Jake and I sat there entranced by her great beauty and talent.

Dinner before show at Indochine, still a bit anxious about eating anything that may poison me.  I am on the don’t get poisoned diet.

Briefly…  Justin Bond.  Look, I don’t mean to be a bitch but when you are sharing a stage with a hugely talented person like Martha it can only serves to highlight ones own limitations.

I know that some people think that Justin deserves some sort of divine glorification before his eventual gay sainthood… but I am not one of them.

He’s a decent performer but he is neither a great singer nor actor.  What does he have going for him?  He is simply an all round nice guy.

Maybe that’s enough?

A saint is always someone through whom we catch a glimpse of what God is like — and of what we are called to be. Only God ‘makes’ saints, of course.

It’s raining in New York so stayed in and wrote and pottered around happily in my room over looking the river and looked at the lesbian menopause infomercial Anna and I made at my house.