Monthly Archives: October 2006

Doubt Beat

Today is Halloween and once again it’s merely ok. No dressing up in costume, but rather wearing the black mock turtleneck, dark suit jacket and black jeans. The same attire I wore about twenty five years ago. Black never goes out of style. It fades but black is almost always stylish. Not that I’m aiming for being stylish. It’s more like I just don’t care how I look. I wonder if it’s because when I wore a suit and tie to work, I had a set of work clothes and a set of play clothes. Now it’s all play clothes and me no like.

Today I wore basically the same clothes I wore in last year’s Halloween story. It’s dated October 31, 2005 in case you were wondering. I wasn’t sure if anyone was going to be in costume in the office. An email was sent out asking about it, but if there were any replies, they went to the sender. I came in and Terry, co-pilot, was dressed as a tiger. Ears, whiskers and striped tights. With an orange t-shirt under a black blazer. She looked great. I looked like an extra from the Groovy Ghoulies.

A few other costumed people were in today and it created an atmosphere of fun, which melted whatever ice existed previously over the past few days. On the way to work I saw the Hollywood producer, Brian Grazer on a razor scooter following his son on his razor scooter. I thought about whether or not I should offer whatever services he might need for Imagine Films. Perhaps he should read this blog. That should scare him back to Beverly Hills with his spiky hair. He seems like a doting parent though and it was only a pipe dream about approaching him after all.

For lunch I did my usual salad and as I was walking to a different street to get my iced tea, I saw Thomas Friedman on the street talking on his cell phone. I gave him the ‘I know who you are’ look. He writes for the New York Times and has been on the Daily Show as well as a few other programs in case you were wondering. He acknowledged my knowing glance and kept chatting away on his cell phone. I should’ve offered whatever services to him but he was on his phone and I didn’t want to interrupt, putting him into the Sandy Bates character in Stardust Memories with me being one of his annoying fans, interrupting when Sandy’s on a pay phone.

That’s when I slapped the cell phone out of his hands and kicked it into the gutter. He stood there and said, ‘What the fuck?’ and I just stood there and laughed with my hands on my hips and told him to go write a book about it and called him Poindexter. Of course that didn’t happen. Actually it was the other way around. I made it back to the office a bit bruised and ate my salad in relative peace. Later on in the day I was going out for a smoke and as I’m getting off the elevator, coming into the lift was John De Lancie, who played an all powerful, omnipotent being named “Q”.

All in all a pretty decent day, peppered with celebrities.

Skank Bloc Bologna

Ok I’m back. Four comments online, plus one phone call. Thank you Song, Juan and Annemarie and good ol’ Rand, and brother Frank. No particular reason to not write except that I was tired. After over a year of writing at the very least 500 words a day, the conservative total is 187,500 words. That’s quite a bit don’t you think? I watched ‘Almost Famous’ on DVD and the Cameron Crowe character is sweating having to write 3000 words. It can be done, but would it be entertaining? Is anything I write entertaining? Can I write something entertaining? Is this too much navel gazing?

Friday night was the beginning of a rainstorm that didn’t stop until Saturday afternoon. I bided my time since I had rented from Netflix, the super deluxe version of ‘Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King’. I do like the deluxe versions since they fill in the gaps in the story nicely. I actually started watching disc one Thursday night, but I didn’t realize it was the four version on disc one, followed by two more hours on disc two. So Friday I hunkered down and watched the battles unfold. I do love the movies so much, I just can’t get into the books. A desert island selection I suppose.

Saturday was laundry and more movies. Bill ran off into the maelstrom for his classes and whatnot. I have to pin Bill down so we can sit and have a talk like we used to with Philip Beansprout. I have a lot of things to talk about and I’m pretty sure Bill does as he always has a lot of things to talk about. Nothing earth shattering as far as I can tell but you know how things go. One wrong inflection in the dialogue and it can all turn to shit. He doesn’t even ask about the writing anymore.

We could’ve talked on Saturday night but I decided to play ‘Inside Man’ by Spike Lee and ‘Almost Famous’ by Cameron Crowe. Bill couldn’t stay up for ‘Almost Famous’, he watched maybe two thirds of it before heading off to bed. So little quality time spent together. On the other hand I am tempted to just hop on a plane and go somewhere. Anywhere really. No place in particular. Just pack and go and not say a word to Bill or anyone. Perhaps a post card from wherever it is that I’m at.

Sunday Bill ran off to church then doing his familial duty so I didn’t see him or hear from him all day. Once again, he came home and watched TV then headed off to bed after getting his clothes ready for work on Monday, which he didn’t use since he wound up staying home, unreachable even to me as I stood on the ledge once again at work. Yes Felicia showed her cunty self once again. She started off the day by telling me what a rough weekend she had, not nearly getting enough sleep. I figured that it was due to the messy period she told me about on Friday, and how she had to go home and change her underwear. Nice.

Today she asked me how things were going. After I had to move boxes from this closet shelf and move them to another shelf in another closet I had messed up my back somewhat. So when she asked how things were going, I said ‘It sucks. I think I messed my back up.’ Her response? ‘What do you want me to do about it?’ And not in a good way where one asks the afflicted if there’s anything they might need. She was throwing down a gauntlet of sorts.

I guess she was hoping to leave work early since she was still having that messy period and the weekend of exhaustion. I tried pointing her in the direction of the door when she originally told me earlier in the day how tired she was. That was when things were ok, before the back started acting up and before she saw me as blocking her early exit.

Conveniently some sattelite in her life had fallen ill and she once again had to leave work early. This woman has such terrible luck. It must be a challenge every day, her existence.

She did tell someone in the office that she was busy all weekend counseling cancer victims. I’m sorry but I cannot see that bitch being compassionate, at least not with a few lines of coke on a mirror in front of her. Felicia is a cunt. Plain and simple.

I’ve started looking elsewhere for a new job. The plan to complete a year at McMann and Tate is rather tenuous right now. I feel I would be lucky if I could last until the end of the year. I so want to go in there and say good bye. Or even better, not show up at all and quit via email.

Walking After Midnight

Oh there was difficulty waking up this morning. Just felt so comfortable in bed, radio snooze alarm kept going off every ten minutes as it’s supposed to, but I just could not wake up. But wake up I did, later than usual and lacking in any hustle. Bill spent the night at his parent’s apartment so there was no bumping into him this morning. It was cold out today though. Woke up and it was 37 degrees out. Ay caramba! Definitely chilly willy. After the coffee, the checking of emails, showering and getting bundled up I headed out into the day.

Usual zombie scene on the train, me standing next to the door reading the New Yorker, most everyone else was reading AM New York or the Metro, two free newspapers they usually give out at most subways and the Path. A fast ride in and I was out at Ninth Street, getting some bagels and heading down Sixth Avenue. Terry was in the office before I was and I settled down into the groove, routine, or rut depending on what was scheduled for the day. But it doesn’t matter since things are always changing. Terry was offered a position at McMann and Tate and she’s going to take it.

I’m not so sure that she’ll continue to be my co-pilot though it would be nice. Felicia said she was hoping that would be the case but she might have been thwarted by her supervisor Mark. Such office drama! Such tedium! I am concerned, since this will actually affect me. I hope it works out in my favor obviously, if only to have someone to talk to through out the day. I was the one who suggested they give her a free pass so that she can work when she can since she’s an actor going out on auditions as well as studying to be a massage therapist.

New Jersey is being used by the Republican Party because of the same sex marriage ruling by the State Supreme Court, mobilizing the evangelicals and that ilk. Bush trotted out the term ‘activist judges’ and several members of the state senate have actually stated their disdain for the courts ruling. Massachusetts didn’t exactly fall apart when their legislative body passed the same sex ruling. These people are so fucked up it’s scary, promoting the idea that homosexuality is wrong. It’s not wrong.

I got into an argument earlier online with an acquaintance from gay.com. This closeted Republican, married and probably has kids goes off about referendums and how this will get the undecideds out to vote. Because of the court’s ruling. Activist judges, dispensing basic rights to all, not just some. How wrong can that be? I do hope that the people of New Jersey can see through this charade and I hope various friends can see how difficult it is to be gay in this world. And it doesn’t have to be. If more people came out of the closet and show themselves, the more people will see that we are your brothers and sisters, your sons and daughters and sometimes your fathers and mothers.

Blown A Wish

Thursday, slouching towards Friday. It was an ok day, Terry erstwhile co-pilot was in but I wasn’t able to sleep later than I’ve been. My mission this morning was to get flowers for the conference rooms and the reception void, I mean, area. Usual clients making it in today as well as thirty students from the Fashion Institute of Technology or the School of Visual Arts. This was bad timing on someone’s part, not mine. And of course all rooms were booked and if they weren’t, where the hell would we put thirty sullen, trendy students with multiple piercings on their faces?

It was just one of those days. I handled it well I suppose. I spoke with Amiable Alan about the office atmosphere and he agreed that it resembles high school with the cliques and scornful gossip. And here I was in a clique with Amiable Alan gossiping scornfully. He’s already thinking of excuses to not go to the holiday party which we seem to be slipping towards. I plan on going if I’m still there, and if guests are allowed then Bill will be on my arm, having been a hit at the last party in September. I had to deal with thirty teenagers all crowded around my desk in the meantime.

A hushed lecture was going on, hushed due to the fact that a client meeting was going on less than ten feet away. It was chaotic and I was able to leave midway through to go out and get myself some lunch. When I came back both the clients and the students had left. Apparently it went well. All parties satisfied and if they met each other as far as I could tell, there were no fisticuffs. A clash of ages is what I was getting at, in case you were wondering. The man versus easily co-opted antidisestablishmentarianisms. Isn’t that a great word?

Right now I am watching Ugly Betty on the telly. I started watching it last week and it’s such a sweet and funny show. Betty is sweet and everyone else around her is funny is almost every sense of the word. She’s just so adorable and yes the cliché is true, beauty is only skin deep. It reminds me of a show a few years ago called Popular. It was on following Gilmore Girls when that show first started on Friday nights. Sometimes, Popular was funnier than Gilmore Girls. Popular had a dark humor about it, especially following the sweet wit of the Gilmores.

The NJ State Supreme Court ruled that Same Sex couples are entitled to the same rights as opposite sex couples. The court ordered the State legislature to enact laws for civil unions, which should afford the same rights as married couples. But they can’t call it marriage because that just scares so many people. So easily frightened of sharing what they take for granted. Afraid that their sacred institutions aren’t as strong as they had thought all along. I have no patience for them at all.

Some Other Guy

Allen Riley came home from work totally exhausted. He thought about heading to a pub for a couple of pints but knew if he did that, he’d more than likely wind up staying all night. Not that he had any problems with staying out all night. The problem would be going to work the next day. Allen’s sister, Lucy always reminded him of the time that she and Allen had done something similar a few years before, meeting up with old friends at a bar and staying way too long. Allen would drink a few, then start looking for drugs to help maintain an even keel.

No Allen decided it was best to go home. There’d be no one to bother him or tempt him, unless he went online. He made a couple of sandwiches and sat in front of the television and watched the news which was all bad. He glanced over to a stack of Dvd’s and they were all things he’d seen before. Disgusted he put on his coat and walked outside. The streets were not too crowded as Allen walked down the sidewalk. Lot’s of people in the restaurants on Sixth Street. Nice restaurants, good prices and the smell of curry wafted onto the street.

Across Second Avenue a cab pulled to the curb and stepping out of the car was Peter. Allen and Peter had gone out many moons ago, nothing really clicked. Peter was dressed as impeccably as ever, nice pinstriped suit, silk tie and black shoes polished to perfection. Unfortunately Peter was a Republican and that was a major stumbling block in the relationship. Allen was a Democrat, but always fell for a nicely dressed guy, and nine times out of ten, those nicely dressed guys were Republicans. ‘Why can’t Democrats dress as nicely’ he said to himself as he walked across the street.

‘Hello Peter’ Allen said. Peter spun around surprised to see Allen. “Allen! What are you doing here?’ ‘Uh, I live around here Peter. Remember?’ ‘Oh yeah, you live right off ‘Curry Row’. I guess you’re still there, huh?’ “Yes, Peter. I still live there. What are you doing down here? The Upper East Side too dead for you?’ ‘Well Allen, I was supposed to be at a function down on Wall Street, but decided against it. Don’t know why I had the cab stop here, though.’

‘Well I’m just walking around, nowhere in particular. You’re welcome to join me if you want.’ ‘That sounds good. Did you eat yet?’ ‘Not really. I was hoping to build up an appetite by strolling around.’ ‘Ok. Well which way do you want to go?’ ‘Oh I don’t know. This way.’ And they started walking up Second Avenue towards St. Mark’s Place.’ Allen hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew, and Peter felt the same way. ‘So how have you been Peter?’ Allen asked, reminding himself not to get into any political discussions. Last time they met up they got into a huge row over many things, but mainly how could a gay man like Peter be a Republican?

Peter didn’t know how to tell him it was for the wardrobe and how it attracts men like Allen.

Boogie on Reggae Woman

It’s Tuesday and once again I slept a little bit later than usual since Terry is my co-pilot this week. Man it’s going to suck when she leaves. It’s great having her around and it’s great having someone to sit next to and talk to at various points of the day. Plantain Man was in a state of arousal again which leads me to believe he is popping Viagra. He’s a nice guy and quite the tease. A little smile as he places the change in my hand, saying thank you.

A drawback from sleeping later is the Path train is that much more crowded. A better dressed crowd though at least the men are from what I can tell. Most of the women are sitting and hidden amongst the straphangers. Nice bullish men in suits that are filled out quite nicely. I don’t understand how people can fall into such a deep sleep on the train though I do recall when I used to take a bus or a van into the city from Weehawken there would be an occasional snore from one of the seats. Me? I’ve nodded out once or twice while trying to read the New Yorker or some book, but I always caught myself, or so I’d like to think.

Felicia was in the office before I was, and Terry and I figured out that she’s trying to make up for all the time she was out the past few weeks. It was a little disconcerting but she stayed by her desk mainly as I fluttered about and Terry manned the desk. I can flutter with the best of them. Felicia asked me to tidy up the ‘library’ which is merely a lot of books haphazardly strewn about on some bookshelves. Once again I was isolated but decided to make the most of it.

I got my iPod and plugged in and sat on the floor going through various books and magazines as I stacked this and that over here and over there. Felicia had gone out to buy flowers and two hours later came back with some branches. She needed my help moving an ostentatious vase which I had to roll on it’s edge to get it to the reception area. Last time she bought branches, they had thorns on them. Luckily these branches were thorn free.

I got through the day and headed to the Path train. No after work cigar for me since I had a dental appointment. Like I wrote yesterday, my teeth are falling apart and it’s high time I did something about it. The hygienist cleaned up my teeth, scrapping and blasting away. Then a dentist came in and she rattled off some numbers while pricking my gums with a sharp instrument. That hurt. It’s been determined and agreed by all concerned that I need to go to a periodontist. No oral surgery is required they said and I have hope that they’re correct. Things will have to be removed and things might be salvageable. We’ll have to see. Tomorrow I have to make an appointment with the periodontist in the Journal Square area.

Also sending positive vibrations to Hillsdale NJ.

Personally I really truly love Bill. I’ve been doing some soul searching and found that he’s been there for me so many times, I can only hope to do the same, or improve my lot in life with him. It’s a relationship and it’s work and it’s the best work that I’ll ever do. He’s a real sweetheart and I look forward to spending the rest of my life with him. And I hope that’s a long long long time.

Beep

It’s Monday. Terry was working this week so I afforded myself the luxury of sleeping to 6:45AM. Yes, an anarchistic way to start the day, but I was up late last night, till midnight. I am so out of control. It was great being with Bill yesterday, going to the recital, seeing Dan perform, which rekindled some ideas that Bill and I had a few years ago, and driving out to Garfield. Bill’s such a nice guy, so gregarious that he actually enjoys hanging out with my family, and they dig him too.

Next month for Thanksgiving Bill and I are going to visit my cousins down in South Jersey. That’s going to be something special for I’ve never hung out with any of them on my own, there was always a member of my immediate family in the vicinity. I’m sure they’ll like Bill too. How could they not? But will they like me? That’s the question. It was good to see my brother Frank comfortable in his teeth since he’s been in some discomfort about it for the past year. Major dental work.

Well now it’s my turn for major dental work. My teeth are fucking rotten. Sure the front ones look fine, but in the back it looks like Dresden after the war. My teeth are falling apart it seems despite my greatly reducing my sugar intake, brushing frequently and using ample amounts of mouthwash, but it’s the flossing that killed me, or rather the lack of flossing. For me, flossing is a relatively new concept, and I could never get the hang of it. I’ve tried various methods and different devices but still, every time I floss, I leave the bathroom looking like a very thin silly string party that smells vaguely like spearmint. Are bad teeth hereditary? I don’t think my mom had good teeth and I know Frank’s aren’t so good.

For a long time I had no health insurance, no dental, no eye care. Nothing. When my teeth would act up, I’d find a dentist who’d recommend a root canal, but I couldn’t afford that so I’d have the tooth pulled which left a gap and allowed the teeth the shift. I couldn’t afford the root canal and had no other option to escape the pain, for there is no pain like a tooth ache. I am sort of doing the right thing by going before I start feeling pain. I did attempt something a year ago, late spring 2005. The dentist recommended seeing a periodontist for surgery was going to be needed. She prescribed Doxycycline and one of the warnings is to avoid direct sunlight while using the medication.

Avoid the sunlight during beach season. No way, I couldn’t do it. Going to the beach whenever I can was needed for my mental health. Swimming in the sea, playing in the sun that I couldn’t avoid. I knew I’d be paying a price for that non action and now is the time to pay. So I am going back to the dentist tomorrow, tail between my legs, ready to take my lumps and to go under the scalpel. It worked for Frank so hopefully it will work for me.

Pleasant Valley Sunday

Sunday, cold, sunny and windy day it was. Last night was entertainment of the beer/jazz cigarette variety. Juan popped in almost unexpectedly. We had beers and watched Dvd’s with Bill. A nice mellow evening. Totally unexpected and unprepared. I spent part of the day trying to score tickets to see Scissor Sisters at the Hammerstein Ballroom on the day of the show since the initial ticket run sold out in about 30 minutes. There used to be a chance of getting decent seats or at least tickets on the day of the show but it wasn’t working out that way yesterday.

I wandered around Hoboken a few times yesterday it was quite a nice day. Did the dry cleaning rounds and even walked down to CVS to buy blades for the razors that Bill and I use. I felt bad since I used the last one last week and still hadn’t replaced them. I don’t think Bill noticed since he didn’t say anything nor did he get any blades himself. So I guess my feeling bad was misplaced. Last night watched, ‘You, Me and Everyone We Know’ which was an ok indie flick. Too many loose ends, some creepy characters.

We also watched ‘Transamerica’ starring Felicity Huffman and that was really good and surprisingly funny in parts. She was nominated for an Academy Award for that role I believe. She earned it, it was a good role and the story was more compelling than I expected it to be. After some Grimaldi’s pizza we watched ‘Mrs. Henderson Presents’ a movie by Stephen Frears about a theater that remained open throughout World War 2 showing topless women on stage. Starred Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins. We saw Bob Hoskins John Thomas. After that it was time for Juan to go as I was tired and fading fast and Bill wasn’t in entertaining mode.

I went to bed soon after and woke up this morning around 8 which was better than yesterday’s 7. I went out and got the papers, walking with Bill part of the way and came home to a nice weekend breakfast. Bill was off to church. We had plans to see a friend of mine, Dan’s recital. I worked with Dan at Wanker Banker and he’s just a sweetheart so I had to go. Bill got to the performance space before I did as I was stuck waiting for a bus on Washington Street for 45 minutes.

I hopped into a taxi as soon as I got out of the bus station and made it to the space in time for a few quick words with former coworkers, Babs and Bobby. Dan came out with a guitar and sat on a stool and looked a little bit like Rufus Wainwright. Dan doesn’t play guitar, it was merely a prop. He sang and told little anecdotes and was all around entertaining. Bill and I talked about doing a similar recital a few years ago and this rekindled talk like that.

Then it was off in the zip car to Garfield to have some dinner and cake with my brother Frank and his family. That’s the only mention he’ll get. It was a lovely time but we had to leave there since Bill’s allergies were acting up due to the cat dander in the house. That’s about it for Sunday. Here are some pics.

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Hard Man Fe Dead

A nice sunny brisk Saturday. Woke up a little after 7, just couldn’t sleep anymore. After showering and a couple of cups of coffee while Bill slept. I was quite active this morning. I ran out to the bank and the dry cleaners and the supermarket at various points, all before 11:00. And I did some laundry too. So productive. Now I’m at a loss for words. So I turn to the iPod shuffle.

Warrior- Bunny Wailer ‘Retrospective’
Bunny is of course one of the original Wailers along with Peter Tosh and Bib Marley. He’s also the only one still alive. He is a devout Rastafarian and still tours from time to time.

Ups and Downs- the dB’s ‘Repercussion’
Love the first two dB’s record and live they were great at McSwells last year but I soon got bored hearing the records note for note performed live. It’s my own fault I never saw them back when they were vital. Still these first two records are superb to this day.

Son of a Preacher Man- Aretha Franklin ‘The Atlantic Years Box Set’
Aretha’s totally different version from Dusty Springfield’s take. More soulful and gospelly and laid back funk. Dusty could never pull it off and it’s really just ok. Not one of Aretha’s best if you ask me.

Private Life- Grace Jones ‘Compass Point Sessions’
Grace covering Chrissie Hynde’s composition. Fantastic version and on par with the original version. Grace’s band at that time featured some legendary reggae musicians like Sly and Robby and Wally Badarou to name but three.

Spoilt Victorian Child- The Fall ‘This Nation’s Saving Grace’
Classic Fall from the eighties. Three of their best albums I think. Very McSwells time for me, in fact my friend Charlie had some photographs on the inner sleeve for this record.

Under the Boardwalk- Tom Tom Club ‘Tom Tom Club’
I first heard this version on a special double sided cassette for the Talking Heads and the solo projects from 1981. It’s ok not their best. Their second record is very good and unavailable. I have it on cassette. Must digitize it.

Good Night- The Beatles ‘The Beatles (White Album)’
John Lennon’s schmaltzy song written for Ringo. Follows the harrowing ‘Revolution #9’ darkness and light. Sugary light. Still an odd track to finish off quite a diverse album.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory- Johnny Thunders ‘So Alone’
Never really liked Johnny too much, though I love his acoustic record, ‘Hurt Me’ and this song which is great. My friend Rita went to high school with Johnny. Met him once when Rita introduced us at McSwells.

Norwegian Wood- The Beatles ‘Anthology 2’
Really cool version of Norwegian Wood, noticeably different from the version released on Rubber Soul. I like it more than that version.

My Heart Hurts- Nick Lowe ‘Nick the Knife’
Nick Lowe wrote some really great songs. This is a good song. Another ok song.

Quedate Luna- Devendra Banhart ‘Cripple Crow’
Cool song. I thought this was Manu Chao, but it’s not.

Hospital- The Modern Lovers ‘Modern Lovers’
Jonathan Richman 1970, released in 1973 after the group broke up. Classic and influential. Jonathan was eventually featured in ‘Something About Mary’ singing in a tree.

The Cross- Prince ‘Sign O’the Times’
Great song from Prince’s best record. Good enough, great message, almost great enough to make a believer. Almost.

Sail On Sailor

A roller coaster of emotion this day was I tell you. First off wound up sleeping later than I wanted to. 6:30. I had to hustle and hustle I did. Quick shower, quick coffee, blue jeans and a Guyabera with a suit jacket. Hip but somewhat self effacing much likes how I am. It was pissing out once again as I walked to the Path train, everything wet and miserable which was my milieu. I stood on the train waiting for it to start moving as it got more and more crowded. I don’t know if the conductor was being courteous or what but the car I was in was the only car with open doors which because of that I was able to get on the train. So who am I to complain?

Got into Manhattan, got a bagel and hot footed in the rain to the office, as I approached the kitchen I could hear the caterer and Terri the office assistant that comes in and helps when she can. They were talking about where the hell I was. I walked in and told them that I am right here and not having a good time of it. I soldiered on having set things in relative place the night before. It was just a shuffle here and a shuffle there and things were in motion. The guest came in right on time when I received a specific request. It has been a year since the clients visiting the office first started working with McMann and Tate, so it was asked that someone, meaning me, go out and buy a birthday cake.

And not just any cake. It had to be close to the colors of the clients company. If this was midtown at Wanker Banker, it would be no problem. But this was west Soho where it is still somewhat industrial and hasn’t been gentrified too much. So no bakeries, or supermarkets or convenient things like that. In the Village there are quite a few trendy bakeries and cafes but none of them would sell me a whole cake as I trekked from storefront to storefront. In the pissing rain. I had an umbrella. A rather big umbrella at that. A promo gift from Wanker Banker, a big golf umbrella in red and white. Company colors.

I finally found a bakery about a half mile from the office after wandering around aimlessly for an hour in the rain. I stopped off and picked up some dry socks and changed when I got back. Then it was out again for this, then out again for that. That’s how it was a lot of the day and when I finally sat down and dried off I was tired. Terry was a big help and I couldn’t have done it without her. Felicia was sick again, this time not from food poisoning as she originally suspected but rather from the mix of meds that she’s been on. It all comes back to the mysterious thing that she’s sick over.

I was able to head out earlier than I usually do. It had stopped rained and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees. Still very windy and I walked to Ninth Street rather than go to the World Trade Center. I got to Hoboken and had my cigar as I walked down Washington Street. It was good to be home and even better to be alone for a few hours.

Birthday

Today is my brother Frank’s birthday. He’s about 11 or 12 years older than me and we both have a lot in common. We like a lot of the same music, we have similar teeth and we also look alike somewhat. Ok, we look a lot like each other. I remember a few years ago I was walking down St. Mark’s Place past Coney Island High, a rock and roll club that one of the Smithereens was performing at. Dennis Diken, from the Smithereens is friends with my brother Frank, both big Beach Boys/Brian Wilson fans. I know what Dennis looks like and he’s giving me this look that shows how dumbstruck he is, trying to figure out who I am, this guy that looks like Frank. I go right up to him and say, ‘I’m Frank’s brother.’

‘Damn you look just like him.’ ‘Nah, Frank’s better looking’ I say and keep walking. Frank is a good friend and a great brother. He’s been on the radio, WFMU for years. Now he does web casts on WFMU, not broadcasting on the air. That’s a shame, he was one of the last of Mohicans. He used to play back in the seventies, Grateful Dead and Bruce and Steely Dan and all that sort of thing. I was into Punk and New Wave which he was slightly interested in. We made a plan where he would borrow some of my records that I had recently bought and he would play them on a segment of his show called ‘My Brother’s Records’.

The segment grew from 15 minutes at the end of his show to gradually encompassing the whole show, with Frank buying his own damn records, or getting them for free since he was a DJ at a radio station and record companies send them out all the time. We saw a lot of shows together throughout the years, Peter Frampton, The Who, Elvis Costello and the Attractions, Devo and many others. Frank was the one I went to see the B-52’s and then two nights later, Talking Heads at the Dr. Pepper Music Festival at Wollman Rink in Central Park in 1980.

That was a fun night. Afterwards we were walking down to the car and the Winter Garden theatre, when the new smash Broadway musical ’42nd Street’ had just opened. People were streaming outside after the performance, crying and dabbing at their eyes. Frank and I stood across the street laughing thinking that it must have been a terrible show with so many people crying. Frank and I found out the next day that after the opening night performance it was announced from the stage by the producer David Merrick that Gower Champion, the show’s director died that afternoon. The show must go on indeed and it was that announcement that caused so many bereaved people to file out into the streets.

Like I said we didn’t know. What would you think if you’re walking by an opening night show and everyone is leaving the theatre in tears? I just called Frank up to wish him a Happy Birthday. I mistakenly called him during one of his shows. Whatevs, I’ll be seeing him on Sunday for cake.

Gut of the Quantifier

Wednesday. Got out of bed before the sun came up again. Is it always dark this early in the day? I thought the sun rose earlier than me until they move the clocks back which is probably going to happen soon, I think next week. Bill was off to work looking smashing again, he bought this crazy yellow vest which looks great on him. On me it would look like a hazard sign. I had my coffee, cereal and vitamins and checked my email once again. Do I really need a 12 inch penis? Why do they keep spamming me with that tired ad?

The Path train was boring as usual as I buried my head in the New Yorker reading about a journalist in Morocco. I got off at Ninth Street as usual, got a bagel and headed towards the idiots at Dunkin Donuts who are so grouchy when asked to do their jobs. 2 boxes of coffee is all I asked for and it’s not like I asked them to pick the beans themselves. I silently was grateful that they were going to exchange the broken never ending coffee machine for a better model, knowing that I wouldn’t have to go to this particular Dunkin Donuts anytime soon.

No one was in the office as I set the coffee down on the counter in the kitchen, made some iced tea and stocked the fridge with seltzer. It looked to be a quiet day, no clients and the conference rooms were reserved at what seemed like a perfect balance. I sat and read the latest news about Paul McCartney. It seems that Heather Mills McCartney is alleging that Paul stabbed her with a broken wine stem, did drugs in front of her (even though she asked that he give it up when they married. Macca is quite the aficionado of the Jazz Cigarette)

He is also said to have prevented her from breast feeding their baby, saying that ‘those are ‘HIS’ breasts now, made her crawl to the toilet rather than fetch her a bed pan, he beat her up when she was pregnant and prevented her from having important surgery done on her leg because it would interfere with his holiday plans. I do love Paul and I sincerely doubt those charges, even if I wasn’t such a fan. She did file these charges in court.
http://www.itv.com/page.asp?partid=6698

The new-ish coffee machine came and worked just fine. Until a few hours later when I made a pot and it wouldn’t stop, causing the coffee pot to overflow once again. For some reason I decided to stay there as the pot was being made so I was able to shut things off in time and there wasn’t coffee all over the place like yesterday, and the day before. I called and gave hell to the coffee company who artfully passed the buck until I got no further than someone who wasn’t in, their voice mail.

I read in http://keithboykin.com about Tyron Garner who was part of the landmark Lawrence vs. Texas court case which overturned sodomy laws throughout the nation. Tyron died last month and as of a few days ago still wasn’t buried since his family couldn’t afford it and he seemed destined to lay in Potter’s Field. It’s recently been worked out, he brother had him cremated after signing over the remains to the county. It was overall a sad state of affairs.

Another gay related sad state of affairs is that former Rep. Garry Studds surviving spouse will not be rightfully entitled to the former Representative’s pension like an opposite sex spouse would. This is because of the Defense of Marriage Act that was signed into law by the stupid fuck Bill Clinton. Granted he was a better president than the current occupant on Pennsylvania Avenue, but even I would make a better POTUS than the current one. This is the main reason I detest Bill Clinton. Courted the gay vote then stabbed us in the back. Fuck him. Or better yet, don’t.

Say a prayer for Michael Sandy who died the other day after being taken off life support after being beaten by four men who lured him into a trap. He tried to escape by running onto the Belt Parkway in Brooklyn where he was struck by a hit and run driver. The attackers dragged him off the highway, and left him on the side of the road after beating him some more and rifling through his pockets. Michael Sandy was 29. His story is just one of many.

Papa Gene’s Blues

A warning. I have nothing to do with the font size or spacing of the paragraphs in the blog, and I don’t know what’s going on or how to change it. Perhaps I will pick Juan’s brain about it this weekend, provided I can get through his most excellent hair. It’s black now I heard.

So it’s been almost a week where I’ve been taking my vitamins everyday, including over the weekend and my spirits are good. This morning they were at least. I got out of bed at 6:30 after hitting the snooze button three times, it was still dark out and Bill was getting himself ready for work. I staggered around the apartment, and got into the shower after kissing Bill good bye and wishing him a good day. I dried off after the shower, had cereal, a cup of coffee with my vitamins and checked my email before heading off to the Path train.

It was a bit nippy this morning walking down the street through Church Square Park. Some drizzle from the night before falling off the leaves on the trees and onto me as I walked underneath. The Path was not as crowded as it usually is since I was a bit earlier than I usually am. I needed to go pick up some boxes of coffee from Dunkin Donuts, around the corner from the office. I stood there waiting for the counter girl to fill up two boxes o’Joe. When she was done she put them on top of the coffee makers. I asked her for a bag so I could carry them and she said, ‘I’m not putting those in the bag for you’. I said that I would do it, that I wouldn’t want to see her get in trouble with her union. She didn’t quite hear what I said and asked me to repeat it, but I just stared and smiled.

Apparently there is a problem with putting boxes of coffee in large shipping bags. I shouldn’t be surprised since most of the employees at this Dunkin Donuts are generally studying for the GED’s for the third and fourth times. I walked to the office, not really having much of a care in the world. I figured that Felicia wouldn’t be in and I was right. She had arranged for furniture to be delivered to the apartment she was at yesterday waiting for the electricity and gas to be turned on. It was a busy day, but not to busy. I was entertained at least, and entertaining.

I found out that a coworker Nick, who started a few weeks before I did was leaving McMann and Tate today. He just broke up with his boyfriend after two and a half years because the boyfriend was tired of listening to his problems at work. Specifically the problems Nick was having with his boss, Ray Winstone-Lookalike. He liked his boss, but didn’t like working for him. So Nick is giving up and moving back to Nebraska to suss things out. Too bad, he was a nice guy, but his heart was broken and he was disillusioned with work and being in his twenties, he could start all over again, somewhere else. I bet he moves to California.

No Padron after work, just a quick walk to the Path train at Ninth Street as it was pissing out.

You Could Have It So Much Better

Yesterday was such a nice day, walking around Hoboken with Julio and Stine that I didn’t realize what a good time I was having till it was over. After having lunch at Johnny Rockets, both Julio and I needed to go to CVS to get some things. I couldn’t find what I wanted (blades for the razor) so I went outside to wait with Stine. A car pulls up to the corner and out of the car come Raige Piney from work who blew my mind because, I always think I’m going to run into her, so many women have hair like her and dress like her. It was sort of disconcerting to see her on the street as we exchanged pleasantries, me not introducing Stine who shuffled away when I started talking to Raige.

 

After I gave Raige directions to the Path train, telling Stine that Raige was the woman I talked about when I told Julio and Stine about the office party a few weeks ago. I introduced Bill to Raige who said, ‘Oh my god, I heard so much about you’. I explained to Bill that that was impossible since I’ve never had more than 3 minutes of conversation with her and that Bill had never come up at all in the course of the conversation.    Today I woke up to a text message from Felicia which read, ‘Me and Patrick both have food poisoning. Am planning to go straight 2 the apt 4 con ed rather than going to the office first. I will call u in the am.’ She was supposed to go to someone’s new apartment, someone who is moving to NYC from London in the office and is in the upper echelon where they can have someone (Felicia) sit in the empty apartment, waiting for the electricity and gas to be turned on. So her original plan was to come in and go to the apartment at noon. Why bother, when you can sleep in and go at your leisure?  

The initial text was at 2:16. The bars were getting ready to close. She never called in the am like she said. Must have been the botulism. I sort of expected her to say Con Ed didn’t arrive and she’d have to go back to the apartment tomorrow, but that might be too risky, since someone would want to move into their apartment as soon as possible. At 3:45 the next and final text arrived, ‘Going home 2 bed. Getting a few things 4 apt in morning. Furniture due between eleven thirty and two thirty.’ I guess she’ll either be in the office after two thirty if she decides to come in at all. Frankly I’d prefer if she didn’t.  Communication is at a standstill in the office and with Bill being so busy lately with photo shoots and whatnot, it’s at a standstill at home. I guess when we were paying Philip Beansprout to listen to us, we had to have things to talk about. We just have to find the time. Walked down to the Path train and smoked a cigar. It was the highpoint of my day. The low point was when I had started a pot of coffee and arranged someone to watch the desk as I stepped outside. I came back 5 minutes later to find the coffee machine wouldn’t stop and there was coffee all over the kitchen. Good times. Having problems with layout and font size. I blame wordpress.  

 

Paint Work

Last night I went from apartment 5L down to apartment 3R which is the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Lopez, aka Julio and Stine. I had not seen them for a few weeks, hadn’t seen Stine in over a month as they had been in Denmark and Spain and back to Denmark again. Yesterday morning I saw them for a few moments and we chatted before they went off to do the landlord thing and clean out that apartment. We had loose plans to meet up last night and so we did. Bill was traveling from Pennsylvania so it was doubtful he would have made it.

Since Julio and Stine were in Europe at the time of my birthday they decided to give me some gifts and had a cake for me. Julio and I drank about 8 cans of Elephant Beer, a very strong beer from Denmark which both Julio and I like a lot. We sat and drank and listened to Johnny Cash cd’s and I opened a box containing a very sleek ashtray, in a Danish design. Very cool, Julio has one. I was surprised that Julio didn’t lecture me in the past. He would come back from somewhere with a souvenir, usually an ashtray. Then he would lecture me about smoking.

I told him if he wanted me to take him seriously about smoking, maybe he shouldn’t give me an ashtray. Julio has given me several very nice ashtrays which corresponded with the depth of his convictions against smoking. The nicer the ashtray the more serious he was. We sat at the table, Stine and I smoking, Julio telling stories about Spain and Denmark with Stine correcting him on mispronunciations of Danish words. It was all very cute. Then we sat on the couch watching a modern version of the slide show.

Julio hooked up the digital camera to the TV and we watched a lot of shots of Denmark and Spain, including Salamanca and Galacia. Julio used to spend his summers there growing up in a town a few kilometers from Salamanca. It’s changed quite a bit from the late seventies and early eighties and he was happy to be able to take Stine there to meet his mother’s family. It was all very nice but in reality it was a slide show, only without the setting up of the projector and screen, just connecting a cable from the camera to the very large television. Luckily the subject matter and the company was entertaining or else it would’ve been, ‘Here is the side of the house. Here is the back of the house, with the Spanish Inquisition in the corner.’

Which in some of those pictures, probably would’ve had the actual Spanish Inquisition four hundred years before. It was Spain after all. After a few hours of hanging out, drinking beers I came upstairs and had another piece of cake, watched some TV and went to sleep. Woke up, Bill had bounced off for more work this morning and I had a cup of coffee before heading out to get bagels and the Sunday papers. Got some bagels for Julio and Stine as well.

Today’s plan was to go on the Hoboken Artist’s Studio tour, where you walk around and visit various artists as they open their studios and offer wine and cheese and crackers, allowing you to check out their work or work in progress. Julio was reluctant an d cranky, claiming a hang over so we went to Johnny Rockets and had burgers before hitting the sidewalks of Hoboken. We went to the Neumann Leather Building which used to be a factory and for the past 20 years or so have been various studios for various artists in various mediums. I wanted to see a good friend of mine, Tim Daly and his show. Julio knows him too, he used to have art shows at McSwells including a major piece that used to hang over the jukebox. I love his work and wish I could afford one of his pieces. Check it out for yourself. Thank You Internet!
http://www.timdalypainting.com/

We checked out other artists in Neumann Leather, including Robert Piersanti, an artist whose work I’ve seen around. www.piersantistudios.com . Ran into RoDa who was sort of showing alongside someone else. Just a lot of fun to walk around and check out art and see people and friends that you hardly ever see anymore. After Neumann Leather I steered us to 201 Madison Street which is where I first lived in Hoboken over twenty years ago. A friend of mine from back in the day still lives there and has been showing his work in the Studio tour, Hiro Takeshita. I’ve been stopping by and saying hello each time I’ve taken the tour and he’s doing well. His website is www.hirotakeshita.com worth checking out I think.

We then walked up to the Monroe Center for the Arts, a gargantuan former factory building, more of a space to sell jewelry and quilts and arrange for portrait photography.
More commercial and not as dirty as Neumann Leather and by dirty I mean creative, rock and roll, hip hop vibe going on, more boho than anything else. We all agreed on that.

And here are some pics.

joz-2.jpg

stine-and-ketchup-face.jpg

julio-flower.jpg

hiro-takeshita.jpg

waiting-for-elevator.jpg

view-from-monroe-center.jpg

tree.jpg

Dizzy Miss Lizzie

Sleeping in on a Saturday morning is such a nice feeling. Nothing much to do, you’re able to take your time mostly. A nice unhurried way to start the day. Bill was in Yardley, PA at his cousin Hiram’s house. Bill had a photo shoot for some unnamed company. I had the big ole bed to myself and I was reluctant to get out of bed but it was 8:30, and I couldn’t sleep anymore. Made some coffee and jumped into the shower. Checked email after that and had a cuppa before I went out hunting for bagels and other foodstuffs.

It was bright and sunny and crisp out as I brought some clothes to the dry cleaners on the corner. Outside the building I ran into Mr. and Mrs. Lopez who were getting ready to clean out an apartment up in West New York. Julio inherited the building and had to evict someone who hadn’t paid their rent in a few months. So now it needed to be cleaned out and fixed up before in can go back in the rental market. Nice to Stine replacing me in the helping out department. I would help Julio out if he asked but I’m really not the volunteering on a beautiful Saturday afternoon type of guy.

Had too many experiences growing up doing that. Back then my father would announce on a Friday night that my brother Brian and I better not have any plans for Saturday because there was to be done around the house. It didn’t matter if we had plans because we would have to cancel them. Then my parents would go out to the VFW and have a few drinks, coming home long after I had gone to sleep.

The next morning would be quiet due to the fact that my father would more than likely be hung over which meant that we would be walking around on pins and needles, trying not to wake him up. Brian and I would sit around the house, not knowing what chores our father had in store for us. Late afternoon was when we generally started, after my father sat around in his underwear, reading the papers. We’d get started with Brian and I cursing under our breaths. Luckily I was thought of as retarded and played the role of the gopher as my father and brother would struggle for alpha male status with my father generally winning and Brian storming off in a huff with my mother trying to calm things down.

Another dreaded thing on Saturday afternoons would be going to the hardware store. I find those places to be so numbing to me. So much wasted time I spent going to the hardware store and staring at dusty boxes filled with strange pipes and fittings. I’m obviously not the handyman type, Julio is though. He loves to chip in. Usually he insists that he fix whatever is broken in the apartment since he knows it would take him much less time that it would for Bill and myself.

I’m supposed to go down and visit the Lopez’s, just awaiting the call.

El Carretero

Juan is on the phone with his excellent hair calling from Six Flags Great Adventure. He is deliberately mispronouncing ‘L’s for ‘R’s ala Japanese speak. It’s funny and he is swift and quick on the uptake. He is begging me over the phone to write tonight’s blog in the manner in which he’s speaking. I turn down the request and suggest that he write that way in his own blog which is listed in the blog roll on the right under the guise of mamonohunterneo. So you can go there if you want to see Juan write the way he’s been speaking tonight.

Those 30 minutes were more than likely the best 30 minutes I had all day. It was 41 degrees out when I left the apartment this morning. I wore a suit since it warranted it. I was planning on it anyway. Yesterday in the office there was an email regarding a project that some of the staff had been working on. The RED Campaign which is a noble effort spearheaded by Bono from U2 and Bobby Shriver. Today, Friday the 13th of October was a major launch or push or something with media saturation on Oprah, and various news organizations, like right now on Larry King. So it was suggested that everyone in the office show some support and wear red today.

I thought it was a good idea and wore my black Sean John pinstriped suit with black braces, a white French cuff shirt with the Warhol Campbell’s Soup Can cufflinks Bill got me, and a red silk tie and a red pocket silk. I looked great. I felt great dressing up and walking to the Path train instead of looking like a shlub. I have to say I easily would have won best dressed passenger for car 1265 on the 7:43 train to 33rd Street. I got to the office and no one was there, I set about starting things up, making the coffee, turning on machines.

It almost felt like a holiday. No one was there until after 9:00. I didn’t really mind, I did various things before anyone showed up. I found out that today was probably not the best day to wear a suit since it was going to be clean up the messy office day. Of course I didn’t know anything about it. I did whatever was asked quite carefully so as not to ruin my trousers or shirt. Felicia and I did a lot of the work and she ordered pizza for the whole office since ‘they had cleaned’ their workspaces. I didn’t see anyone do anything really, but I was very busy trying to keep clean while cleaning.

The day couldn’t end soon enough. I walked around downtown smoking a Padron trying to shake off the ghost of a stupid day. I was glad to be out of the office. At a few points throughout the day Amiable Alan tried to help me out with some support and I was grateful. He laughed at my sardonic comments and seems to enjoy hearing, ‘Shut up Bitch’. As long as he enjoys it, I’ll keep saying it.

Shut up Bitch.

Smoke on the Water

Just rather blasé tonight. Work was ok, a glitch here, and a glitch there. Nothing to really get upset about. Raige Piney proved herself to be schmuck supreme. She had scheduled a meeting, sent an email this morning saying that she was sick. I emailed back asking who was going to run the meeting since she’d be out, and about two hours later she responded saying the meeting had been cancelled. Well I had a nice lunch thanks to her being so late in responding, no one was able to cancel the order. A chicken cutlet sandwich at 11:30 hit the spot this morning.

I had a sit down with Monica, the new Human Resources director straight from the United Kingdom. Monica is nice, soft spoken. She’s been having sit downs with most everyone in the office and today it was my turn. We sat at my desk for about 15 minutes and she asked me how I was doing, and what I thought of the company. I told her my experiences since April and how cold these people are, not warm and not really friendly. She mentioned a British phrase, Queer as Folk. I asked if it had anything to do with the TV show, but she had never heard of it. She explained that it meant basically that ‘people are strange’.

I told her about Felicia and my troubles with her and I think everyone had something to say about Felicia, except for Felicia. When she asked what I liked about McMann and Tate I just said I like helping people and I like working behind the scenes and that being a people person I could talk to the owner of the company and the messenger that runs around town. I don’t think that qualifies on what I liked about the company. I mentioned that I’ve gone out of my way to be more warm and welcoming to the people that started after me since no one else seems willing to put that hand out.

I walked around for about a half hour this afternoon, sitting in relative sun and shade on a bench on Sixth Avenue, drinking some Arizona diet iced tea and reading the latest Uncut magazine from England. I didn’t buy it the when I first saw it the other day since Oasis was on the cover and I’m not too fond of those Gallagher boys. It was a lovely day, just sitting there leafing through the magazine, reading about Bob Dylan’s influences on his latest record, ‘Modern Times’. Cole Porter, Muddy Waters, Merle Haggard are just some of the names connected to various songs.

I couldn’t get too much into the article since I did have to go back to the office. It’s odd being alone most of the time at work. The only time I ever really spend anytime with anyone in a relaxed environment is when I walk with Amiable Alan to get salads around the block. Not like back at Wanker Banker when there was always someone, one of the guys from IT to go get some lunch with. That was then and this is now and here is where I’m at. Oh well, guess I’ve got to adapt.

I’m Set Free

Raining again. Day started out dark. Sun behind clouds didn’t make it easy to get out of bed. Didn’t matter, I had to go to work. Shuffled along past Bill who was dressed impeccably which made me remember how I used to dress. It was always so much easier to wear a suit and tie, just open the closet door and you were done. But there is always a risk of getting the suit messed up and I think my wearing a suit makes everyone uncomfortable, the people I work with are more the jeans and shirt hanging out type, which is how I used to dress pre-suit days.

Perhaps when the weather becomes considerably cooler I’ll wear a suit and tie again. I mean, I have all these suits that are doing nothing but hanging in the closet. I hear them sigh sadly as I go past them towards a pair of khaki’s. The shoes sing a similar song, wondering why they don’t get shined anymore, let alone out on the street to walk the world. And the accoutrements. The ties, the braces, the over the calf socks, the cufflinks. All wasting away while I dress like I could work at the Gap or Blockbuster. Yuck. I know I looked good in a suit and certainly felt better about myself.

Speaking of closets, today is/was National Coming Out Day. A day created by some organization to enable people, not just youths to come out. Safety in numbers. I could almost see two old fathers in a bar commiserating on the fact that today was the day their child announced they were gay. October 11, a day of infamy. It’s not an easy thing to do though it’s probably a lot easier to come out of the closet when you’re younger, rather than being married and having kids and fooling around on the side with someone that plays on the same team.

Years ago, pre-internet days, the nineties I responded to an ad in the Village Voice and made a date to meet at a bar I used to DJ at in the Village. The guy was an older man, a bit on the heavy side and did nothing for me sexually, meaning he didn’t turn me on. He seemed like a nice guy, looked a little bit like Charlie Rangel. We just hung out and talked. He was in his fifties, I was in my thirties. We sat at the bar while he told me his life story. He was married though he hadn’t had sexual relations with his wife in about twenty years. They had three kids, all in their twenties.

I don’t know what set me off but I was filled with an air of self righteousness He was bemoaning his fate and I told him that he had more days behind him than in front of him. Did he want to continue living a lie? We talked about it and I encouraged him to be true to himself, and to show the world that being gay is not a bad thing after all. It was a Guinness fueled discussion about having to throw off the yoke of self loathing that is instilled in most gay people from day one. To be told that being gay is wrong, you’re going to hell etc. I heard it and even took part in it until I realized I was gay.

I led a double life for quite some time while my peers were able to walk around hand in hand without the derision gay people face. My drinking buddy and I left and I walked him to the bus to take him to Penn Station so he could head back to Shoreham, Long Island, giving him a peck on the cheek which flustered him as he got on the bus. We exchanged numbers and said we’d keep in touch.

The next day as I was working at Right Track Recording Studios I got a call. It was the Charlie Rangel looking guy from the night before. He told me he told his wife and kids. The wife was suing for divorce, and two out of three kids were cool with it. He said he felt free. I never heard from him again.

Lost Girls

Tuesday which felt like Monday since Monday was a day off, not hooky, not sick, a legal holiday and those are the best, or at least very cool. Bill looked great as he went to work before me, me bleary eyed him slowly taking the steps downstairs with his bad back and all. I jumped into the shower and did my thing, shaved and got dressed, had some cereal and coffee. What a glamorous life I lead. Brought down the recyclables and garbage and headed to the Path train, stopping by Plantain Man who is a tiresome tease.

The usual faces on the train, all non descript and such drab suited men. Must I show them how to properly wear a suit? Felicia was in the office before me and I mentioned that we need to call the caterer for tomorrow lunch which was actually today. Of course she reminded me what day it was making me feel like a doofus. A happy doofus though. I did improve my attitude and I took my multi-vitamin and B complex which made my urine quite florescent. I know, what the fuck is he writing about the color of his urine for? Well it was really bright. My body took whatever minerals it needed from the vitamins and I had to get rid of the rest. I often wonder how it would have affected Warhol’s Oxidation Paintings, aka the Piss Paintings.

So besides the vibrant color, the B Complex is supposed to help with the stress of the day and it was quite a busy stressful day. Clients, including the berk I mentioned last week, who called me a ‘star’ for getting him a peppermint tea. The presentation was run by Raige Piney who might be warming up to me after what is close to seven months. Or she might be just using me which is pointless since it’s my job to make sure these things run smoothly.

Lot’s of dishes to be loaded and unloaded into the dishwasher. At one point Amiable Alan was in the kitchen with me being his usual demure self and for some reason all I could say to him was ‘Shut Up Bitch’. He laughed, I laughed, and we laughed. It was genuinely absurd. Amiable Alan is a nice guy and I’d never call him a bitch unless it was in jest. No, nothing happened. I wasn’t reprimanded or anything like that.

The day wound down somewhat as clients left in cars that I had arranged to drive them to the airports or wherever else they were headed. Felicia left early yet again on the pretext this time, of needing to buy various items for the office tomorrow since it was announced that we won’t have any water until tomorrow afternoon since a leak has been discovered on the floor underneath us. That means I’ll be running to Dunkin’ Donuts to get boxes of coffee for the office which is fine by me since it will get me out of the office if only for a few minutes here and there.

All Tomorrows Parties

It was a gorgeous day today. A great day to have off. Bill went to bed early last night and I watched TV until midnight. Totally uneventful. 2 days ago, was October 7 which is the first date I have posted on the blog. Go and see for yourself, I’ll wait. So I guess officially, now it’s been a year since I started writing. I saw Paul McCartney at the Garden on October 4th last year, had lunch with Song the next day following a job interview, and went to the Society for Ethical Culture on Central Park West a day or so later. That’s what started this whole thing, talking with Lewis Lapham after the reading
Which inspired me to start writing at least 500 words a day, everyday. Then talking to Rand about it a week or so after that, I gathered the pieces I’d written and loaded them into this here blog that dear old Rand set up for me. According to my memories, this has been a year and two days.

Here’s what the shuffle had to say.

The Love I Lost- Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes
Classic Philly soul from the 1970’s, Gamble and Huff producing, Gene Page doing the arrangement and Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes at the top of their game. Definitely a thrill to have Teddy Pendergrass singing that vocal. Definitely a hot and sexy singer, set off unheard alarms in me when I was but a lad.

Piccadilly Palare- Morrissey
A Jamaican guy I went out with in the early nineties was very much into Morrissey and the angsty industrial stuff out at the time. He got me into this collection of Morrissey singles, “Bona Drag’ and this is the lead track, with Suggs from Madness telling Moz, he was full of it.

Sugar on the Floor- Elton John
This was a B-side from Elton’s ‘Rock of the Westies’ when our Elton starts losing the plot. I liked the record then, now it’s merely so so, rife with memories. I didn’t get any singles so I’d never heard this song before. Really a top notch song, definitely wouldn’t fit in on the album.

Do They Know it’s Halloween?- Rilo Kiley
A great song sent to me by Juan a few weeks ago. A lot of fun listening to a lot of fun being recorded. Infectious, this radio mix. I like it more than I did in August. Must be since Halloween is fastly approaching.

Dreadlock Holiday- 10cc
A reggae spoof from the seventies that gets added to a lot of reggae compilations. This song got a lot of airplay back then. They do sound like a reggae band, got it down to a t. All about being mugged by some dreads while on holiday.

Come With Us- Brian Eno & David Byrne
A track from ‘My Life in the Bush of Ghosts’ Lot’s of atmospheric pots and pans being used for percussion. A very influential record that was remastered and re-released. The website allows you to remix some tracks from the album. Very hands on and cool.
http://bushofghosts.wmg.com/home.php

Smiling Faces Sometimes- Undisputed Truth
Great killer soul song from 1969. I heard it for the first time in the nineties and fell in love with it. Don’t know if Undisputed Truth had any other hits of this caliber.

Since You’ve Been Gone (Sweet Sweet Baby)- Aretha Franklin
Oh Aretha in her prime. Fantastic stuff that still sounds great today. She sounds so happy and young. You can hear all the instruments all fall into place as she opens with ‘Baby baby sweet baby’. Would’ve been nice to be a fly on the wall for that session. Sounds like it was all done in one take though it probably has some overdubs.

I’m such a Music Geek!

That’s it for now. Cheers.

Ageless Beauty

A nice, mellow Sunday night. Nothing much a happening tonight. Just a little after 8:00 and Bill is sleeping in bed already with his bad back. I’m listening to various Internet radio stations via iTunes. I was listening to WFMU, and then some trace/chill out/lounge things and presently listening to all Beatles, all the time, including solo stuff which is interesting if not dicey. For some odd reason Fux News is on and I can’t find the remote. At least the Beatles are drowning them out. Right now it’s Paul with Dave Stewart from the Eurythmics. Everything Beatles on Beatles-A-Rama.

It was a beautiful day and I walked around Hoboken and sat by the river by the 14th Street Pier. Lot’s of people walking around, though not as crowded as Pier A would be. I sat and listened to the iPod and finished reading articles on a fugitive and the progress that has been made in child birth over the past century or so. After getting so engrossed in an article, after finishing one I turn the page expecting more of the previous story that I had been reading. So after reading about an escaped convict and the reading about obstetrics I start to envision midwives on the run. America’s Most Wanted type scenarios.

I was listening to the various Squeeze tracks I have on the iPod then I played the Roches. Quite a diversion. From New Wave to folk things. The Roches are quite special to me and I’m thinking about going to see Maggie, Terre and Suzzy at the Society for Ethical Culture on the Upper West Side in November. The last time I saw them live was at Town Hall in the 1980’s I believe. Decent website, www.roches.com . I still have a certain fondness for Maggie. I always think I’ll run into her at Farfetched or somewhere in the East Village.

I walked down to Sinatra Park smoking a Padron and walking past the skateboarders and kite flyers. It was a gorgeous day. I was overdressed in a denim jacket but wasn’t sweating. I sat and started reading a Paul Krassner book that my brother Frank gave me for my birthday and listened to Elton John, ‘Tumbleweed Connection’ That was a classic album I had back in the day. I remember I found a 5-dollar gift certificate in my mother’s drawer and went to Bamberger’s and bought the album. I loved it and felt very guilty because I was guilty of taking that gift certificate.

My sister had the album, but she didn’t trust me to take care of it so therefore I had to get my own. There were always arguments about each other’s records growing up on Riverview Avenue. Most of the time it was about, ‘No you can’t play mine. Get your own!’ That usually resulted in doubles or sometimes triples of the same album. I do remember my father preventing me from buying the Rolling Stones, ‘Some Girls’ album with the soon to be recalled cover because my brother Brian had it already. Brian wouldn’t share with me and even though I had my own money, my father forbid me buying it. That album is now on sale for 7.98!

There Will Be No Divorce

Well I am back on the pc thanks to Bill, and I got my iTunes back. Not the accursed version, iTunes 7, but was able to download iTunes 6.0.5.20 which is what I used to have before Harpy suggested I try the ‘oh so groovy iTunes 7’. I was on the phone with Apple support for over an hour, talking to Avi in India and Frans in California. Neither one could help though they tried. All I need was Bill to hook up the wireless connection and I was able to work it out myself by going backwards, not forward.

I slept well last night, on a Friday night I went to sleep at 11:00. I was watching TV with Bill on the couch while reading Mojo Magazine. Great article on Jimi Hendrix in 1966 London, and the usual Friday night watching of ‘Real Time with Bill Maher’ didn’t seem promising since I could barely keep my eyes open. All the writing about Jimi turning on the Swinging London scene was swimming on the page without the use of lysergic. Maybe it was a contact through the paper stock it was printed on or maybe I was just so physically exhausted.

I think it was the latter since as soon as my head hit the pillow at 11:05 I was out cold It was a cold night and needed a blanket for the first time this season. It felt nice and I slept until 8:00 this morning with no dreams, or memories of dreams, being chased by recent Irish immigrants in the Bronx. Woke up and got some bagels for Bill and myself as well as the newspapers. Very lazy day underneath a cloudy gray Saturday morning. Made myself a nice breakfast and read the papers while drinking my coffee. Bill got up and tried some crunches on the floor mat despite his bad back.

I did the laundry and watched a DVD of Tom Snyder’s Tomorrow Show featuring Patti Smith. The Jam and Public Image Ltd.’s John Lydon (nee Rotten) and Keith Levine. Levine was easy going and soft spoken and Lydon was a bit of a prat for no particular reason. I had read about that broadcast soon after it happened and now with a space of twenty three years, I can see Lydon being a little dick. Still like his music though. My mother used to wear my old PiL sweatshirt. Quite an interesting look for her and I regret not having any pictures.

Tonight it’s hanging out at home with Bill again, I’m a lot more energetic after being in the sun for a bit this afternoon when it broke through. It was beaming as I wandered around the streets making my way from dry cleaner to dry cleaner and off to the post office to drop off the Tomorrow Show and a very good documentary on Glenn Tilbrook, formerly of Squeeze and all around nice guy and great singer songwriter and entertainer. I definitely plan on seeing him next time he’s around. It’s really a good DVD and I recommend it, especially if you like Squeeze. It’s called Glenn Tilbrook: One for the Road. Cheers!

Under the Weather

She’s had a Yom Kippur dinner to attend, doctor’s appointments and tests, and today was the fact that her brother was in town for a few hours, so she had to leave early. I wrote that last night. This morning’s text message was at 8:03 this morning, ‘Patrick threw his back out. Been up all night. Taking him 2 er at VA hospital. Call u in a bit.’ She never called. I was getting used to the idea that Felicia wasn’t coming in. Then at 11:09, Felicia sends another text, ‘Steve is coming 2 relieve me in about an hour. Oy vey! Hate the hospital.’

Call me cynical but I think she was up all night, partying and tootin’ up a storm, finally realizing that she has to go to work and she’s still fucked up and needs to get at least a few hours and attempted sleep, laying there twitching and breathing through her mouth because her nostrils are so clogged. I know of what I speak, because that resembled me and some friends a long time ago. I can see right through it. Once again, the bigger, more outlandish the lie, the more people will believe it.

At 12:26 another text stating she was on her way. She’s truly an abrasive character, reminds me of certain Sher. Susan Sher. Turnabout is fair play and since Susan has talked trash about me in the past, I feel justified in mentioning her here. Felicia and Susan are so much alike, except that Felicia is taller and Susan is known by some as ‘the Tiny Terror’. But I will say, to her credit, Susan has heart and a very strong work ethic. Can party like Satan, but she’ll show up at work on time the next day. Felicia just pissed me off so much by showing up. I think I would’ve had a better day if she never came in. I do think she might have a clue that I’m onto her.

I’m not a mercenary, I’m just hoping she’ll cut me some slack, but if I’m right and she’s wired for sound, then it’s all about her. Like I said, I know of what I speak. If she plays her cards right, she’ll find out. I’m trying not to sound sanctimonious here for if it wasn’t affecting me I really wouldn’t care. But it is affecting me. Crazy white chicks on coke!

Other than work that’s about all that happened. It was very cold out today, a very cold wind on the streets of Soho. I’m writing on Bill’s desktop Mac. I like the big screen and the pretty colors. And the speakers are better. The pc is gathering dust, which is bumming me out. Hopefully Bill will do some work on it this weekend. Not much else planned for tonight or the weekend. I do have Monday off and I do plan to have a better attitude towards work once again. There are some really good people there, but there is the thorn beneath the roses.