Back at home chilling out. Had a burger. If it wasn’t for the George Foreman I’m sure I’d be eating more pizza. Didn’t have one when I was living in Weehawken, and each night I’d pass by Monnetti’s Pizza and have a slice or two, or some other dish. I also wasn’t a block away from a supermarket. Hoboken has many good restaurants and I have many choices when I’m on my way home, but more often than not, I just come home and make my own dinner.
I think I saw Maya Angelou yesterday, and I said ‘Miss Angelou’ but whoever it was, was talking to another woman and walking down the street. Some guy heard me say it and he gave me a look as if to ask, was it really her? The pseud Maya Angelou kept walking in her direction and I continued in the opposite.
Been fairly tired, still not sleeping restfully. Spoke with Bill on the phone who thought I sounded depressed. I was at work so depression could be a factor but no, I was tired. Don’t know why I just didn’t tell him that, but I didn’t. Been dragging my ass around, still doing a bang up job at whatever duties I have to do, but my heart isn’t in it.
I was able to wander around midtown this afternoon. Had to get some keys made so I walked over to a store next door to Studio 54. I tell everyone I go there since the key makers in the neighborhood take forever to find the matching key to make the duplicate, and after searching for an eternity they almost always come up short. It’s true. So the time I’d spend waiting for them to tell me they can’t do the job, I use to walk across town.
Today I had the luxury of having to go to Crate and Barrel and by various items that have turned up missing or broken. That was fun. I was able to go to 54th and Eighth Avenue walk through the park, enjoying a Padron whereas ten years ago it would’ve been a joint, and over to 60th and Madison Avenue. The park was nice, not too many people on a bright and sunny yet cold day.
Felt nostalgic for Christo’s Gates. They were up around this time last year. That brought a lot of people into the park during the winter, a lot more than usual. It definitely stirred up a lot of ideas of what is and isn’t ART. A lot of people did not like it at all. It was in the papers for quite sometime. I thought it was magical and went a few times. Really left me with a good feeling. Left a lot of others cold though. Some people don’t get art.
I do though. I sort of organized a trip to a gallery in Chelsea with Juan and RoDa. And maybe Roda’s cousin, Tony (hubba hubba). Nice guys all. We’re supposed to see a Jean Michel Basquiat show. RoDa and I attempted at the tail end of the summer last year but being procrastinators of the jazz cigarette variety, we didn’t want to stand on a very long line on the very last day of the show at the Brooklyn Museum.
So this should make up for our loss somehow.
Juan is here now, with bottles of Guinness. Awfully nice of him to start up the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations. Drinking on a Thursday night in Hoboken is nice. Not worrying about how I am going to get home from the bars in the city near work. Juan is great company. Song is arriving at JFK tomorrow, in town for a week I think. It would be nice to get the two of them together to hang out. But with Juan’s schedule and Song’s agenda who knows?
Oh and I as I was walking to Crate and Barrel a woman driving rolled down the window and yelled at the woman next to me in a fur coat. Nothing like ‘Fur is Murder’, it was ‘We love you Miss Stritch!’
I was walking down Madison with Elaine Stritch.
At Juan’s Request.
Juan: I am Punk. I am the scene!
John: wow I wish I had your audacity when I was your age.
Juan: Why do you say that?
John: I’d probably be dead by now.