The dream I woke out of this morning:
As I strolled around Bryant Park I was talking to my friend Jeff on my cellphone, explaining to him that yes, it was a little weird that the songs hadn’t been announced, but that the set for the ceremony had been decided on on the spot, and that there had been production managers who were compiling the set lists (I was watching one of them at just that moment rolling up pieces of newsprint with magic marker lists on them) and that on the re-broadcast the song titles would be displayed. Speaking of the rebroadcast, I passed Bono, who was obviously lipsynching some part of “Vertigo” to be spliced in later. I gave a quick nod, careful to stay off camera and trying not to fuck up his shot. Around me the temporary soundstages were coming down, and crews were folding up lighting rigs. I was bemused, but thought on the whole it had gone well.
The event? My induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, of course.