Monthly Archives: August 2007


Friday night. Later than usual. Work let out early, I came home, had a chicken sandwich and had a most uneasy nap. There was a plan to meet up with Carla the receptionist to see Battles at the South Street Seaport. That’s the gist of it really. It’s presently after 11:00 which is later than usual and I’m sure you know all about that dear reader person whomever you are. I had difficulty waking up this morning but decided to go to work to basically show my face. Showing up is important even if there is nothing to do and today there was nothing to do.

Four people showed up and I was one of them. No biggie. I knew it was going to be a half day. I got out at 1:00. Unfortunately Carla had to stay until 3:00. That’s the breaks and I am management now and thats that. Carla was cool with it, and who knows how many times at jobs I’ve had in the past that I had to stay behind while everyone else left early. Carla understood and was busy thinking that I wasn’t going to show up at the concert tonight. I wasn’t too sure whether or not I was going to make it myself.

Came home after walking across town smoking what else but the Padron 5000 natural (get your order in now so I will get them by September 12). Finally defrosted some of those chicken breasts courtesy of Julio and the McDonald’s commercial from a few weeks ago. It was ok and probably loaded with who knows what, but it hit the spot. Then I crashed and tossed and turned for an hour or so laying in the bed under a weak air conditioner, which is better than nothing I suppose.

Met up with Carla and Millie and their twenty something friends, Alex, a 4th grade teacher in Flatbush, Maura, Bridget, and Richard. Bridget and Richard are from Saratoga, and Richard is in the Navy, stationed in Saratoga which is good for him. Nice, fun twenty something crowd, laughing with me, or maybe at me as I hovered buzzing around. Battles were good, but would probably go over better at an indoor venue. No vocals really and the only song I knew, has vocals that sound like Donald Duck. Really. Deerhunter from Atlanta was on first and they were ok, noisy but ok. Definitely not as experimental as Battles whom the critics are calling Math Rock. I got a free download from Jockohomo in the blogroll on the right column. Might still be available, go there and enter Battles, or the track itself, Atlas.

Here’s some notes.

Path train again. Headed to the World Trade Center and from there it’s a walk across downtown to get to the South Street Seaport. Called Kathe (who’s boyfriend lives around there) and Amiable Adam who I thought might be into it. Left voice mails for both of them, Kathe responded, Alan MIA. Kathe is working at a holistic pet supply store in the East Village.

Must pee when I get to Manhattan. Train hasn’t left the station yet.

Got to Manhattan, ran onto Millennium hotel across from the station and using a cod British accent asked for the rest room and was directed to it with courtesy. I felt a UK accent would infer my being a tourist and allowed to use the facilities.

The show was good though it was more a social thing than anything. Fun nonetheless.

Got to Path train as the Hoboken train was leaving the station. What a horrible feeling, seeing the train you should be on, leaving the station with out you being on it. Could be worse I suppose, but still sitting and waiting for a train sucks when you know if you were only one minute sooner you would be on the move.

Thats it. Off to Otisville tomorrow to hang with Pedro so don’t expect a new entry until Sunday, or more than likely Monday. Cheers.

Remnants of a sidewalk fire last night in Hoboken


Battles (‘doing’ Atlas)

Infant with headphones. Hipster parents.

Radio Nowhere

Thursday night. Just got home, after a few drinks with dear Brenda from Wanker Banker. Wanker Banker is no more, been swallowed up by a company that has the same name as Toys-R-Us mascot. Plural, not singular. We wound up at Pershing Square, which is actually a side street off 42nd street that leads to Park Avenue. In the warmer months, they close off the street and set up tables for drinking and eating of noshes. It was nice, catching up on old times, who’s where, what’s what, that sort of thing. We wound up talking about various drugs we had experimented with and Brenda took the crown when she told me about smoking angel dust back in her silly teenage years.

We are both dear friends of each other and it was all pleasant, Brenda having Apple Martinis and me having a few pints of vitamin G, Guinness. We split an appetizer of spring rolls which hit the spot at that moment. Soon enough, Brenda was off to Westchester and I was headed towards the bus terminal. I lucked out, there was a bus waiting and about to leave the gate. I jumped on and soon enough me and my full bladder were hurtling through the Lincoln Tunnel headed for Hoboken. Barely made it into the apartment. It’s odd, I will be fine, then my bladder knows where we are and starts pounding trying to get out as soon as my key is in the lock. I made it in time much to my immediate relief.

Work was quiet. A few people out of the office, if not physically, then mentally. It’s been a quiet week. Yesterday, most of the office left, leaving Carla and myself behind. Carla and I sent an email to Vivek letting him know that most of the office had left, around 3:00. There was no response until I came in this morning, and Vivek sent it at 8:30, basically telling me that Carla and I were free to go for the day. Yes, it was a good thing that Carla and I didn’t wait until 8:30 to leave. We left at the normal time of 5:00. What was Vivek thinking. He did send an additional email to me saying that if it gets quiet like that in the future we would be free to go. I just wanted some clearance and I suppose I got clearance for the future. We could leave when it gets quiet. I’ll bank that thank you very much.

Now I’m home, obviously, just chillin. Bill is with his mom, Juan is still at work, then off to a party somewhere. There’s a plan for me to head up to Otisville on Saturday, to hang out with Pedro. Could it be that I haven’t seen him since January? That seems implausible, yet it could actually be true. We do talk several times a week, but not physically seeing each other for so long is hard to believe. But there you have it. It’s hot and sticky and I’m done writing for the day. Talk amongst yourselves.

I Don’t Owe You Anything

Humpy humpy hump day. That means it’s Wednesday oh invisible readers. Some of you might be strung out on GHB and don’t know what day it is, you know, out on Fire Island, party party party. I’ve never been so I have no idea and I freely admit that and by freely I mean it didn’t cost me one thin dime goddammit. No one has ever asked me to go out there and it’s just as well because if you know me (and if you know me only through this blog you don’t really know me at all), you know that I can’t abide by that house music.

Bill’s father’s feet aren’t swollen anymore and he’s now at a rehab facility in Greenwich Village. Bill thinks it’s a great place and easy for him to bring his mother from the East Village to the West Village. Bill’s mom is going crazy though without her husband of forty plus years so the present plan is for Bill to stay with her until his dad come home from rehab. I suggested that to Bill last week and he came up with the very same idea the other day. As long as he gets the message, I suppose thats the idea.

Didn’t do much of anything last night. Watched a two hour special about Saturday Night Live’s first five years. I remembered a lot. I also remember accidentally watching the first show hosted by George Carlin. My brother Brian and I watched it for some reason. I usually watched wrestling on channel 9 n Saturday nights back then. Bruno Sammartino, and my favorite, Mil Mascaras. He looked great and had a million masks hence his name, Mil Mascaras. I wonder if that’s where my fascination with men in speedos comes from? Maybe wrestling wasn’t on that night, and brother Brian wasn’t beating me up at that moment, but we watched something new and different. At least for us.

They had a few people from back then, most of the original cast that’s still alive, except for Jane Curtin who I really liked. Everyone has gotten old. I’m certainly not the the 13 boy I was then. At least not age -wise. Or physically. Ok, I too have gotten older. Happy? Brother Frank was out of the house, Annemarie was probably in a disco and Mom and Dad were getting drunk at the VFW. Why was Brian home? He was 18. He too should have been out drinking. Odd to just think of that now, and in such a disjointed manner.

I also downloaded some stuff legally through iTunes. There is a free Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band track and it’s pretty good. I initially tried to get it, but my shopping cart was full and I needed to unloaded or buy some items. I bought Patrick Cleandenim, Baby Comes Home and The Knife, Silent Shout. And the Springsteen single. Patrick Cleandenim is good, a bit jazzy and he reminds me of Rufus. He sings about girls so I guess he’s straight. Elton sang about girls, but he was closeted then. Juan, the heartbreak kid, turned me onto The Knife (which is an odd thing to read), and that was pretty good. Can’t see them being played in the clubs but Juan does. Maybe they play it on Fire Island. Bruce’s single is very good and for free it makes it excellent. Could be free for a week only and here it is Wednesday so you better get moving.

I have a lot of things in my shopping cart.

This was my reply to someone named Kelly on a New York Times blog. It went unpublished though an earlier comment was published.

Kelly:I get so amused at how some folks just adamently proclaim with all the authority they can possibly muster, “It’s not a choice!!” How do they know?

We know, Kelly because we have been though it ourselves mostly. And yes, we’re pretty adamant about it.

Kelly: What is their objective source of fact that forms the foundation of their pontifications?

The objective source is right there in the mirror in front of you. What choice did you make when you decided on your sexuality?

Kelly: If homosexual behavior is not a choice, why do homosexual proponents just go ballistic over attempts by parents to shield their kids attending public schools from this destructive behavior?

Because homosexual behavior is as destructive as heterosexual behavior, Kelly. They really should learn about both sides shouldn’t they?

Kelly: It’s got every mark of full fledged recruitment…yet it’s not a choice?? Give me a break.

I was raised by straight parents, in a straight neighborhood, went to Catholic schools where I was taught by straight teachers, all the while in a straight society, where I was told endlessly that being gay is wrong and destructive, while having to watch men and women kiss and couple and do all the sort of things that you take for granted today.

I think the straight recruiting methods failed, because I am gay, happy and not destructive.

Is anything broken yet, Kelly? I am hoping you are happy with your choice of sexuality, I know I am despite the obstacles and hatred shown towards gay people.

They posted my reply which was in effect a reply to Kelly, not the original topic. But Kelly just pissed me off so much I felt I had to say something.
My original post is #83
Here is the link to the NY Times. Cut n’ paste

here’s John Waters on the Bear Population

a bit raunchy.

and for Hilly Kristal
The Ramones 1977 CBGB’s

No More Sorry

It’s Tuesday and so far it hasn’t been so bad. The day started out with an email from brother Frank who seems to be making enough progress to go back to work next week. The email was about a rumor, or talks that My Bloody Valentine may be getting back together to play Coachella next year. Nothing has been confirmed but it got me buzzing enough this morning. After listening to the rest of Blonde on Blonde, I moved to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and practically vibrated my way across midtown. I saw MBV in 1991 at the Ritz at Studio 54, quite by chance, an old friend of a friend popped into the video store I was working at and asked me if I wanted to go since he had an extra ticket. I went and was my mind blown. Actually my ear drums were blown out but it was ok. One of the best shows I had ever seen. Total sensory overload, strobe lights, films projected onto the band who were thrashing out quite beautifully. Sort of like Andy Warhol & the Exploding Plastic Inevitable with the Velvet Underground and Nico. Yeah, well sort of. A pretty cool Irish band if you ask me. Regarding “Soon,” no less an authority than Brian Eno said, “It set a new standard for pop. It’s the vaguest music ever to have been a hit.” That means something dunnit?

Senator Larry Craig, busted in a men’s room at the Minneapolis Airport for cruising for sex with an undercover policeman in the stall next to him. Apparently in 1982 when the Senator was a Representative, there was a gay scandal going on around Washington DC and Ol’ Larry was asked his opinion on what was going on. His response? He’s not gay, though no one asked him that. Methinks Larry doth protested too much. Apparently his sexuality has always been questioned despite finally marrying a woman after his denial and adopting her three kids. He is no friend of the gay community, voting against same sex marriage, and protection from employment discrimination of the LGBT people. He is a good friend of the National Rifle Association and was involved with Mitt ‘Flip Flop’ Romney’s campaign in Idaho! Good bye Larry Craig. Say hello to Florida State Representative Bob Allen and Mark Foley and Ted Haggard. Ted Haggard is asking people for money so his family could live in the style they’re accustomed to through a dismantled charity that is currently being run by a pedophile. Oh those family valuing right wing nutty Christians. What will they do, or better yet, who will they do next? Probably curse and attack gay people more and more, though the big boys of the GOP won’t have anything to do with them.

Michael Vick, has admitted guilt for animal abuse. He said that he had to grow up (really!) and that he found god. I wonder if Michael Vick is dyslexic.

Bill’s dad is being transferred to a care unit in the West Village which is an easier trip for Bill’s mom. The alternative was St. Albans, Queens which is a hassle for anyone, not just an 84 year old woman. So that’s good. The catch is Bill’s mom is going crazy so Bill will more than likely spend the next two weeks at their apartment in Stuy Town.

Here’s a clip of My Bloody Valentine.
My Bloody Valentine- Soon

♪ Look all around, there’s nothing but blue skies….♫

Here’s a link to the article brother Frank sent. Cut n’ paste.

You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away

It’s back to work for me and back to school for some. Earl in particular went back to school today, starting his Junior year of High School. Class rings and cars. Annemarie is glad he’s going and not driving her (with a learning permit) up the friggin walls in Arcata. Tears were shed and I think they were belonging to Annemarie. The wheel in the sky keeps on turning. I remember high school, it was ages ago and a little bit painful at school and at home. But I don’t want to go there. It was a different world then.

Last night didn’t do anything. Didn’t do anything during the day so why should the night be any different? Bill came home earlier than expected. He immediately went to work trying to clean things up a bit and I sat at the computer, watching ‘Oliver!’ in fragmented form on Netflix. You can watch movies directly on your computer and for some reason I chose ‘Oliver!’. Maybe it’s because it was one of the first movies I saw. It’s about two and a half hours, I’m surprised it held my attention for that amount of time. ♫ ‘Consider yourself, at home! Consider yourself, part of the furniture. We’ve taken to you so strong, it’s clear, we’re, going to get along!’♪ That’s about all I could remember.

Watched The Big Lebowski again. It was on cable and I got drawn in and once again, I got confused. There are moments in the movie I like but overall, I lose the plot. It’s not as good as Raising Arizona, or Fargo, or Oh Brother, Where Art Thou. Those are the best of Joel and Ethan Cohen. I do like their movies, I just don’t go to the cinema to watch them. Such a bad cinephile.

Work was ok. Nothing home about. Carla the receptionist had a second interview somewhere, so she has one eye on the door. I’d hate to lose her, and I do know that Tom Chin, Greg Stevens and Vivek don’t want to see her go, but I’ve discussed this with Tom and Greg, and they were supposed to discuss it with Vivek but summer vacations and all made it impossible for that to happen and so Carla goes out on an interview. The plan was to get her to stay until the end of the year, then let her go in January when her prospects of getting into the fashion industry might be that much better than they are now. But no one is talking and Carla is balking.

Carla’s friend Millie, might fill Carla’s shoes should Carla leave. I met Millie on Saturday on Governors Island and she seemed good enough though I wasn’t thinking about Carla leaving then. I left work at the usual time, having a Padron 500 natural and grooving to Blonde on Blonde. Great record to walk around Manhattan to, which is cool since parts of it were written in New York City. Speaking of that decade, it was 40 years ago today that Brian Epstein died while the Beatles were in Bangor, Wales with the Maharishi. Poor sad fucked up Brian. A month later homosexuality was legalized in Great Britain.

Here’s some gay related news from

For more widgets please visit

Veddy interesting stuff I think….

Razzle In My Pocket

A lazy Sunday. It’s 4:33 in the afternoon and I obviously didn’t go to the beach. I don’t think Stine likes to go to the beach. I’m disappointed. I did have a feeling that a trip to the beach wasn’t going to happen so my hopes were up at all. I was up around 7:30 just in case Julio was going to call. No call. A trip was made to buy rings of dough and some print media. Thats it. Oh and a trip to Shop Rite was the high point of the day. Once again it’s too humid out to do anything. (except to sit under an umbrella in the sand) When I got back from Shop Rite I was drenched. Thunderstorms did not arrive making the atmosphere thicker than before.

Watched Serpico last night. Actually, it was on TV last night but I wasn’t really paying attention. Just hung out and read while the TV provided background noise. Started to drift off while watching SNL Best of the 2006-2007 season.

Shuffle Time!

Ba Ba Boom- The Jamaicans
From the Story of Jamaican Music boxed set. Perfect music for a humid day like today. A jazz cigarette, a ice cold bottle of beer and something to read would be perfect….sand on the beach…Bah!
Old school reggae, or rather, rock steady.

This Is My Story- The Jewels
From the James Brown’s Funky Divas collection. Before James Brown would go on stage, there would be a few acts before him under his aegis, Bobby Byrd, Tammi Terrell and here, The Jewels. I think Tammi Terrell was the only one who made a new for herself, albeit briefly with Marvin Gaye and in life.

This Is Pop- XTC
From BBC Radio One Live cd. I was lucky enough to see them live twice on their Black Sea tour. After that Andy Partridge developed severe stage fright when his then wife threw out his Valium prescription that he was on constantly since he was a teenager. He was fantastic on stage when I saw him at the Capitol theater and the Palladium, always moving and running all over the place. Some people should stay on drugs is the moral of the story.

Monkey Man- The Specials
From the Specials first record. Live track from an album that changed my life on many levels. Black and white, personal politics were all introduced musically to me. They were great and I never got a chance to see the original band. A reconstituted version in the 1990’s but it wasn’t the same thing.
Two live tracks in a row (XTC/Specials).

Maria Novarro- Was (Not Was)
From Are You, Okay? The interesting David Was and Don Was project. A lot of fun to listen to, extremely well produced, perhaps a little too well produced. They have the wit and it could use some grit. Tainted by the fact Steve Saporito turned me onto them.

I Can’t Stop Loving You- Frank Sinatra with the Count Basie Orchestra
From It Might As Well Be Spring cd. A very cool cd to have in case one is feeling loungey. And it’s mandatory that if you want to live in Hoboken you must own at least one Sinatra cd. It’s true, it’s in the Town Charter as well as my lease.

Modern Love- David Bowie
From the Best of Bowie. This was used in the eighties for a commercial supporting the Coffee Growers Association. Bowie drinks coffee, you should too! Originally from the Let’s Dance album, this is the edited single. It’s definitely an upbeat song from the Dame.

Jah Speak In Dub

Editrix Harpy called last night with some more suggestions that I don’t recall at the moment. Maybe a bagel will jog my memory. Nope. It ain’t happenin’. It’s awfully hot out. 87 degrees and thick as hummus once again. It’s gross out. Hardly anyone on the street. Shade is a commodity outside. Inside too. I suppose I’m in my man cave. It’s relatively dark and musky. No wait, not THAT man cave, I mean the apartment. It’s usually nice with a cross ventilation going on but not right now. It’s a warm breeze that flows through, which is better than no breeze.

I made my errands early before it started scorching and I decided to head over to Governor’s Island to see the ‘In the Pocket’ series, featuring a Bhangra vs. Reggae Inna Sound Clash planned to meet Carla the receptionist and her friend Millie. It was supposed to start at 1:00 so I decided not to do the laundry until later so I could leave the apartment around 11:45. I didn’t know whether or not to take a bus or the train so I made my mind up when I got to Washington Street and went for the bus. Air conditioned and less people.

Here’s selections from today’s notebook.

On the 126 to Manhattan. Going to Governor’s Island to see the Sound Clash that Carla has been talking about. She went to see Camera Obscura last night at the South Street Seaport, and I begged off, because of the pissy mood I was in yesterday, not feeling better until about an hour or so after I wrote last night’s blogarama. Never been to Governor’s Island before so it seems out of the ordinary, not out of the way.

Saw Ally Politkowski riding a bike on Washington Street not wearing a helmet and sweating profusely. We mainly chatted about Steve Fallon. Ally goes down to Rehoboth to visit Steve and Arnold from time to time. Ally is now working for the Associated Press. He’s a nice guy, but I don’t think he’s a writer, or creative like that. I don’t mean that as an insult. He’s a sweetheart.

Got a phone call from Pedro inviting me up to Otisville. Why does he wait until the last minute to invite me? I mentioned next weekend, since I already had plans. Next weekend is Labor Day weekend so that might work though Pedro is not so sure if it will. He’s trying to get as much overtime as possible.

Also got a phone call from Julio who was talking about going to the beach, having loaded up his trunk with beach equipment. When I heard that I was all set to jump off the bus. But I knew deep down that it was too late to go to the beach. It was after 12 noon and most of the beaches would be crazy crowded by the time we would get there. Tomorrow is up in the air, hopefully like a Frisbee.

Saw two children with lousy parents or guardians on the train this afternoon. One kid got hit in the neck accidentally by his one eyed, toothless guardian who told the kid to watch were he was going. The other kid was a few minutes later who was standing up until his father put him down really hard on the train seat making the kid cry. One of the kid’s brothers was trying to calm him down, but the boys teenage mother told her to let him cry, he only wants attention. The little kid just sat there after he was all cried out giving his father the death stare. I just hope these boys don’t wind up in the New York Post.

Here’s some pics of Governor’s Island.
Leaving Manhattan

Approaching Monster…ummm…Governors Island

Radical Ferries

A walk a way

Girl on stilts with her Dad


Ol’ whatsername

Some people



Carla and Millie

Me and Carla

Keepin it Gully

The Sound of The Sinners

It’s Friday and I’m in a bad mood. I suppose I was due for a bad mood, things had been going relatively ok the past few weeks. Now I hold most everyone in disdain. That includes friends, and it almost includes Bill. He’s thisclose but since his father isn’t doing so well, he’s not on the list of the disdained. I figure if no one wants to hang out with me, fuck ’em. I don’t want to hang out with them either. It all fell apart, or fell together these feelings I currently hold. I didn’t want to go to work today but of course I had to. That was the initial feeling I woke up with. A disappointing way to wake up if you ask me.

Here’s some notes I wrote in my notebook. It comes in handy for moments like this.

On the Path train. To my right is the conductor doing chin ups as the train rolls from 33rd street to 23rd street. The office closed early today which for me is too late. I would have preferred leaving the office at 10:00 after putting in two hours. Once again the AMEX bill I thought I finished two months ago comes back to bite me on the ass. Such a waste. The paperwork I submitted can’t be found, it’s gone missing. People can be such stupid scumbags sometimes.

I walked to the bus terminal after work, taking my time, enjoying a Padron on my way. Once inside the terminal, I turn a corner and see a very long line of people waiting for the bus to Hoboken. I am in no mood to wait on line with these fucking idiots and I decide to walk to the Path train instead. Trying to walk on the shadow side of Eighth Avenue since the sun is finally beaming and it’s 85 degrees out.

I passed so many people looking for money, for drugs, to get home, for whatever. I am in no mood and glide on by. I get to 32nd street to catch the Path train when I spot an elderly gent who’s blind trying to walk against the crowds of people who want to get to Penn Station. I ask him if he needed help and he said that he did. I offer him my arm and it’s off we go. Bog old me, shielding him from the salmon swimming upstream to their Long Island trains.

His name was Ed and being an old man, he takes baby steps, or in this case old man steps. What should have been a 10 minute walk to the corner turns into a 30 minute walk. He did appreciate my assistance and also probably appreciated having someone to talk to and look out for him.

Ed was from Newark and now he lives in Port Washington. He used to work for B. Altman for 35 years and he was in the city for a haircut from the same woman who has been cutting his hair for close to 30 years. It used to be $2.00 for a haircut. Now it’s $14.00.

I walked Ed to 33rd Street and Broadway where there was less people and he was comfortable enough to continue on his own. I hope he gets back alright.

Now I’m back in Hoboken and I don’t care to see or hear from any of my friends. It’s easier to say that now, than to be disappointed when they don’t call or show up later. And what I mean by later, I mean over the weekend.

It’s a few hours later and I’ve mellowed somewhat. Most chill.

Do It (‘Til You’re Satisfied)

Thursday again. Started out 62 or something like that, and very humid. Work a suit jacket and nice trousers and a green striped Gap shirt that Julio got me for an Xmas present a few years ago. By the time I got to the office, it was drenched. I am happy to report the cell phone fiasco has been taken care of and I am off the WiFi, back to regular celliness. The connection at home wasn’t that good and I found myself standing outside of T-Mobile or Starbucks where the cell phone company has hot spots, standing there for 5 minutes trying to get hooked up into their WiFi zones. I don’t think I’ll be listening to David Pogue in the New York Times technology section anytime soon. He’s the one who turned me onto the idea of going WiFi, so enthusiastic he was. Pogue Mahone David Pogue.

Work was busy and once again quiet. Vivek, who has toned down his ranting bought pizza for the office which was nice. Back to salads tomorrow though. Boring yet healthy, which is so like me. There were a few errands around midtown today which I gladly did. Not that I don’t like being in the office, but come on, an opportunity to get out of the cube and just wander around midtown is nice. I do enjoy Turtle Bay, if I had the money I’d take up living there. I can see myself, knocking on Stephen Sondheim’s door, asking to borrow some sugar. I can see myself, being served a restraining order to keep at least 50 feet away from Stephen Sondheim.

Had two realizations today.
One was while walking across Third Avenue and realizing that the sidewalk or the street under my feet could explode at any moment, much like what happened on Lexington Avenue last month. I like to think that I’ll be fast on my feet and run the hell out of there. That’s what I’d like to think, meaning I’d have some sort of control over the situation. Of course, there is no control, only chaos.

The other realization was related to Generation X. I read that book by Douglas Copeland in the nineties and didn’t really like it much. There were some parts that I did enjoy and agreed with. Like how the baby boomers (of which I am at the tail end) had a lot going for them, then when they had kids, Generation Y if you will, had all things focused on the offspring. It’s true and I see it more and more these days. Once again, my age group has been totally passed over. It could be our fault, waiting for things to happen instead of making it happen.

Yeah I know whine whine whine. But it was a realization, and not definite since nothing is really ever definite is it?

Bill is staying with his mom who is flipping out over the fact her husband, Bill’s dad, is in the hospital. Bill’s dad is doing better and will be staying in a Veteran’s Administration hospital in St. Albans, Queens the next two week. I explained to Bill last night it might be a good idea for him to spend more time with his mother while his father is away. It’s a better idea than recording a cd with his voice on it so his mother could just play the cd while Bill is at work so she won’t be too lonely.

This is from a group I get emails from. I haven’t participated yet, just due to laziness and/or forgetfulness. Oh but I plan to.
check it out, cut and paste

and these were from 15 minutes ago



Today is Wednesday. Today is Annemarie’s birthday! Happy Birthday to Annemarie! She saw Talk to Me over the weekend and I think she loved it. I burned a CD of 70’s Soul hits and put it the package with the David Sedaris recommendations (Dorothy Parker, Flannery O’Connor) and other CD’s as well as The Word magazine from the UK and a few other things, some still to arrive. A pretty good issue that I was more than glad to send over to the west coast. I would have bought a new copy but it was two months old when I bought it already and other copies of the same issue were in really bad shape. But who cares? It’s Annemarie’s birthday!

Work was good, not too much to do once again. Wound up leaving the office around 3:15 to go to Chinatown to order some business cards for someone in the office and for myself. I guess it’s official, I am an office manager. Once again it was a gray day, and though it wasn’t raining it was humid humid humid. Everything damp, water in the air, but not falling down. It was also 58 degrees this morning so I dressed up again, though not with a tie this time. I looked good, maybe a little too Sopranos. Gray suit, black pinstriped shirt, gray thick and thin over the calf socks. All I needed were some gold chains around my neck and maybe a nice gold chain for my wrist. But no, not my style. Not into the bling.

I did enjoy a nice Padron 5000 natural after leaving the printer. I thought I would have enough time to smoke it walking from Centre Street to the World Trade Center Path train. It turns out I didn’t so I sat in a concrete park under a tree by the various courthouses downtown and happily puffed away. After a while I was able to time it and finished it by the time I got to the train. It’s little things like that, that make it worthwhile. Got to Hoboken, all safe and sound.

I was walking up Washington Street when I decided to send a text message to Annemarie, to wish her a Happy Birthday once again. Not so fast. The phone wasn’t on. Did I turn it off somehow? I just got the phone 13 days ago and still trying to figure it out. I turned it on. It turned itself off. I turned it on again and it turned itself off again. That’s odd. Luckily I just passed a T-Mobile store so I turned around and walked in. I spoke with Jennifer Malik who couldn’t help me since I didn’t have the receipt on me, nor did I have the box the phone came in.

Apparently I was supposed to carry them around, both the box and the receipt. Jennifer tried to plug in the AC to see if the battery was dead, but couldn’t figure out how to plug the adapter into the phone. Since I didn’t have those things I couldn’t be helped. I asked for a number to call and Jennifer gave me her card. I then asked to use their phone since mine was kaput. Jennifer reluctantly let me use the store phone.
Feel free to email Jennifer, and let her know that she should have continued the course and gotten that GED.

The first person I spoke to on the phone, Angela 2972 was of little or no assistance and hung up on me when I asked if I could get credit for the time that my phone will be out. They offered to send me a battery and that would take 3 or 4 days. I called another number since Jennifer dialed some number that got me to Angela. It seemed like an odd number and I thought so when the next person I spoke to had no record of my conversation with Angela 2972.

This guy tried to help me, really he did but somehow I was passed off to someone else who couldn’t do that much. I came home and plugged in the new phone and that worked, but the battery was getting to be quite warm. I called up again and they tried to convince me to get a new phone. I told them I wasn’t too happy with the WiFi plan. Bill phoned in and suggested that I try the old phone. I did and the old fan was working just fine. I thanked Bill and got back on with T-Mobile and told them to cancel the WiFi. It wasn’t really working as good as I thought it would, or as good as the New York Times said it was. Stupid gray lady!
So I’m back to the regular cellphone and I’m pretty much happy about that. Actually I’m happy that I’ll be able to call Annemarie later and wish her a Happy Birthday once again.

Happy Birthday to Annemarie, the best sister in the world!


Rainy Tuesday. Relentless. Woke up this morning and it was 57 degrees out. I wore a suit yesterday since it was in the 60’s and since it was below 60 degrees this morning I wore a suit again. A different suit at that. I do love wearing a suit, though I am sure it throws some people off since basically for the past two and a half months I mainly wore casual collared shirts or a guyabera with khakis. This look is almost the exact opposite and it’s also the most comfortable look for me. And I get compliments for it.

Last night was a lot of fun, seeing Jim and Meghan and Lily and Ruby and the Jack of Hearts. Oh wait, the Jack of Hearts wasn’t there. It must have been the Guinness. I took about 60 pictures last night, and I had to pick the best and edit them down so they would be the right size for the blog. And on top of that, I had to write at least 500 words like I’ve been doing since October 2005. Tomorrow is Annemarie’s birthday and she got a package that Mina Theta sent her. Good old small mouthed Mina Theta brought to you as a courtesy of her parents and McMann and Tate. Thanks Mina!

I had nothing to read on the bus ride home tonight so I wrote instead. Old school, pen to paper. Here’s a bit of that.

On the bus, nothing to read so plan B. Write.

The usual Hobokenites pile on the bus, each body increasing the temperature inside. People are balking at having to stand for the 20 minutes rush hour ride back to the Jersey side. It seems old fashioned to be writing with a pen and paper. Most everyone else has their crackberries or their PDA’s, and one or two of them have laptops. I have a notebook and a black pen. Old school, that’s me.

Lot’s of rain today. Someone online in Colorado wants to make me rich. With my luck it’s probably a resident of the Overlook Hotel.

Work was calm, good and busy. Actually had things to do. Tomorrow I have to go down to Chinatown to order business cards for myself. Woo hoo. Hadn’t been in Chinatown since May.

I just texted Carla the receptionist about a FedEx I needed to send to Greg Stevens out in the Hamptons. She dropped it off for me. Carla is good. So much for being old school. One foot in the waters of the 21st century I guess.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there around 6:30”, the guy a few rows behind me talking on his cellphone.

Had a quick talk with brother Frank today, mainly about the Sunday night shows on HBO which we both watch. It was good and brief and almost like old times.

My handwriting isn’t as bad as I thought it would be (you can’t tell here) despite writing on a crowded bus rolling and rocking through the Lincoln Tunnel.

Finally back in Hoboken, the home of the vain. Saw quite a few cute guys on the street today. Even caught the eye of one of them who was checking me out as I lit my Padron cigar after work.

Have to learn to take photos unobtrusively. Sometimes I’m so self-conscious I don’t take the camera out. Other times if I feel that something is Art, I have no problem. I think it’s a Duchampian ideal. Or even Warhol-esque. Doesn’t matter since they are related after all.

Here’s something you may have seen before. Or maybe not. I haven’t seen the whole video from start to finish but it’s oddly compelling. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE VIDEO…..

Soul Love

A little later than usual though it’s still Monday as far as I can tell. Last night, Juan came over, watched Big Love with Bill and me. Juan was sangria’d out. Bill and I were pretty mellow. Juan couldn’t take another hour of polygamy so he split half way through and headed up the hill to Union City. Bill went to bed soon after that leaving me to watch the bad news broadcast on my own. I didn’t sleep well. Woke up earlier than usual, needed to pee, Bill on the toilet so it was hello empty Poland Spring water bottle.

Went back to bed after that only to wake up a half hour later and get ready for work. Bill was gone by then and before you know it I was out the door and headed to the bus stop. I passed Mr. L, my barber who’s barber shop was undergoing a make over by some company. Maybe it’s going to be broadcast on TV. Last week they created a man cave in the basement of a firehouse on Washington Street. They started yesterday and I guess today is the conclusion. Saws, drills and kleig lighting in the neighborhood.

Work was quiet, final weeks of summer make various people take them off, so a few people were out which made for a quiet office. I ran around doing errands for the office and also for myself. I felt a bit sad walking by Billie’s store since Billie went back to Washington DC on Saturday, with his training completed. I texted him wishing him a good morning. The other Bill, Bill’s father is slowly making progress after a tense couple of days. Thats a bit of good news. I left about 10 minutes early which was twenty minutes later than I wanted.

Came back home and changed my clothes. The Guitar Bar All Stars that I mentioned a few weeks ago were playing tonight. Unfortunately, it was drizzly so they moved the show indoors. Indoors to McSwells. I didn’t want to go there that’s for sure, but I rarely get to see Meghan and our daughter Lily, and Meghan’s daughter with Jim Mastro, Ruby. I should have contributed to Lily’s upbringing, but I couldn’t be bothered. Showing up once a year is alright by me and it seems to have worked out fine for the Mastro clan.

Meghan and I don’t have a daughter, it’s just that Lily looks like Meghan’s and my offspring. Ruby looks more like Jim. Just an odd fact.

So despite my mild protests I made it up to McSwells. It was British Invasion night and Lily got up on stage and jammed to London Calling by the Clash, and Ruby jammed to Submission by the Sex Pistols. Such talented kids. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt if dad (the other one) owns a guitar store. It was a lot of fun, albeit somewhat deafening at first. Took a few snapshots, though next time I’ve get to get up closer.

Here’s some pictures, not all from McSwells, but recent snaps.

Friday’s Clouds

Saturday Morning Sunrise

Stella,a sweet puppy belonging to Mike and Nicole next door

one more Stella

Ruby and Lily

Fred Smith and Jim Mastro

Sneaky shot of Meghan

Lily playing Sub-Mission

Ruby playing London Calling

3 out of 4 Mastros

Buzzed on two Guinness and tired after writing and editing photos I’m outta here.

♫ ☼ ♫

Didn’t do too much of anything, it’s a gray rainy day and I don’t have anything to write about. I’m sure you would dread another iPod shuffle thing so I’ll spare you and leave you with this.

Here is the wonderful Bill Moyers’ take on the resignation of Turd Blossom, Bush’s ‘Brain’ Karl ‘Closet Case’ Rove

Ventura Highway

A real nothing kind of day. I have them often. People like my brother Brian don’t. He wishes he had a day to do nothing, and I’m not being snarky by saying that. I just stayed local and low key. Bill’s dad is still in Bellevue and they’re still running tests to figure out what the hell is going on. Why the swollen feet? And the other stuff? Bill’s distressed by the fact that the hospital isn’t doing all that they could be doing for his father’s comfort and general well being. Bill just came home about an hour ago, very tired and in low spirits. Sometimes it’s an emotional roller coaster, since he’s presently rambunctious again.

I had a few errands to run today. Some toiletries and a haircut mainly. That was the extent of it. Oh, a walk to the Post Office and sitting on the stoop, smoking a Padron and reading about Prince in the latest issue of Mojo. No plans for the evening, no plans for tomorrow. Not yet at least. Heard from Julio earlier today so hopefully he was laying down a foundation for a beach day tomorrow. And I’ve probably jinxed that by writing it down. Curses. Where is that delete ke

Here’s some iPod shuffle stuff.

Wait- Angela Lansbury (from Sweeney Todd- The Demon Barber of Fleet Street)
I’ve seen this show (not with Angela Lansbury) quite a few times, some versions better than others, have the cd, the vinyl and two versions of the dvd. Guess I like it huh? It’s also a bonding moment between brother Frank and myself. Also looking forward to Tim Burton’s take on the bloody tale, starring Johnny Depp with the score once again by Stephen Sondheim.

S.U.S.- The Ruts
From Made in Britain- A Mojo Collection from a few years ago. Don’t really like it much. Don’t recall hearing it twenty or so years ago. Sounds close to metal actually. I do know the Ruts had a single called Staring at the Rude Boys.

It’s Gettin’ Hot in Here- Nelly
Classic summer song from a few years ago. I remember hearing this being in Pedro’s car with Bill heading down to what Pedro calls Domino Park in Soho. Still a lot of fun to shake your ass to. It’s just reanimated Bill’s tired spirits as well.

Energy Fools the Magician- Brian Eno
This has chilled Bill’s boisterous spirit. Nice mellow piece, jazzy in the musical sense. Based on Tarot cards I’ve heard. Energy (the Sun), The Fool and the Magician. Check it out.

This Life Makes Me Wonder- Delroy Wilson
From an Uncut magazine collection from March 2007. Old school reggae. Perfect for a summer evening. Great production and you know those guys were all playing and recording at the same time in the same room, which isn’t how they do it anymore. This life makes me wonder, how to live to another day gone.

Very Very Hungry- David Byrne & Brian Eno
From My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. Classic landmark album. I have a few copies of this, including an early version with Qu’Ran (Koran) which was deleted after initial pressings so as not to offend. This was in the 1980’s , not today mind you. This was the replacement track, since an Imam singing people to prayer set to a beat could cause a whole lot of trouble.

Fa Fa Fa Fa Fa (Sad Song)- Otis Redding
Didn’t know too much about Otis until a few years ago. PBS had a documentary about Stax Records on a week or so ago and featured Otis, including a clip of him singing this song on a TV show in the sixties. What a talent. Would have loved to have seen him live.

There you go. That’s it. Better than nothing, wouldn’t you say?


It’s Friday. Left work early today, things were slow, half the office was out on holiday. Just woke up from a nap. I had a dream that I was living in a house on the border of Hoboken and Weehawken, by the overpasses on Park and Willow Avenues. At one point in the dream I was riding my bicycle, then all of a sudden I was riding my skateboard, the orange Bigfoot skateboard that Annemarie gave me 31 years ago. I was better on the skateboard in the dream than I was in real life. A lot of people had gathered in the middle of the street watching someone named Peter in a fist fight with a small person, actually a midget. From the point of view I was at, looking up at the overpass, all I could see was Peter swinging wildly. I skated past a growing mob and headed towards a party where there was a DJ spinning records by my house. Some spreading puddles of greenish water encroaching. Then I woke up.

Today was truly a bittersweet day. Billie heads back to Washington DC tomorrow after training up in New York for six weeks. It was originally supposed to be for two weeks then three which was bumped up to six. It was great to have him around for so long. He certainly enjoyed Bill and my company and we definitely enjoyed his. I stopped by to see him for a bit this morning at his store, but the street was closed off for yet another steam pipe breaking. Not as bad as the steam pipe explosion last month, but unnerving nonetheless.

I had burned a few cd’s for him, including the Corinne Bailey Rae that Annemarie had burned for me. I think Corinne Bailey Rae will be the soundtrack for a bittersweet summer this year. I told Billie that it felt like summer was over when Annemarie, Rex and Earl went back to Arcata in July, but that having Billie around seemed like an extension of that feeling. Now that Billie is heading back home, that feeling of summer ending has returned. I offered to meet up with Billie tomorrow to see him off at the train station and it seemed like a good idea.

After I left work for the day I stopped by again to touch base, and Billie said it probably wouldn’t be a good idea since he would probably wind up crying at the station. Billie also said that the crew he was leaving in New York had been saying their goodbyes and it was making him emotional. We stood there and talked for a bit when I felt my bladder inching up towards my eyes. Billie was right in the fact that there would be two queens crying in the middle of Penn Station tomorrow, so we would be better off if I didn’t see him off. I’ve had many teary farewells at boarding gates in the past, one more wouldn’t be so bad, but I’ll respect his wishes. Maybe.

As I was napping, Bill called. The WNBA game is off tonight since Bill’s father isn’t doing so well. There were some problems this morning and Bill called me, telling me they were going to go to the stroke unit at Bellevue at the paramedic’s suggestion. If there isn’t a stroke then they will take him to the Veterans Administration hospital on 23rd street. Bill’s father is 83.

On a lighter note, speaking of being 83 as I was walking through Bryant Park this morning I noticed that the Mike Love and Bruce Johnston version of The Beach Boys were putting on a show for Good Morning America. Didn’t see the Cowsill that was supposed to be playing with them but here’s some snap shots illegaldress.


some security looking like his head is in Mike Love’s crotch.
If given a choice I would have chosen Bruce Johnston.


and here is a clip from a few years ago, the finale of Six Feet Under which added to today being bittersweet.

The Good Thing

Thursday. Just got back from a really good movie. Bill, Billie and I finally got it together and made it to see Talk to Me, about a Washington DC DJ, Petey Greene. Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejifor are the leads with excellent support from Martin Sheen and Taraji P. Henson as the station owner and Petey’s girlfriend, Vernell Watson. I recommend it. Great soundtrack and costumes. A little picture that is crazy cool, and little or no jive. It was once again a wonderful night with wonderful company. Of course there’s always something that almost derailed our plan, and it wasn’t too good.

Last night Bill was at his folks as Juan and I hung out watching Gosford Park. Bill called midway through. He was worried about his father who wasn’t doing so well last night. Naturally I went into comfort mode, knowing the road that Bill is going to have to go down. I felt bad for Bill and offered whatever assistance he might need. He appreciated it and hung up as he was getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing I could do one this end except to finish the movie. I always had problems with Robert Altman’s films but this one I really enjoyed. Perhaps I should give his life’s work another chance.

Juan split and I soon wet to bed, sleeping fitfully. Woke up earlier than I should have, which sucked. Stumbling around the apartment, I was still able to get out and head to the bus on time. An easy ride, reading the New Yorker, only two weeks behind. This issue has the rain forest New York on the cover. So far so good though I’ve skipped the article on golf. A boring sport, to watch on TV and even more so to read about. No thanks on that one. That’s one benefit of being behind in reading the New Yorker. If something doesn’t grab me quickly, I usually don’t feel bad about moving on to the next article.

Work was ok. I was certainly busier than I was yesterday, meaning I actually did something, and that meant that the day went by a little bit faster. I made it over to Billie’s store for lunch where I actually paid for a expensive salad that tasted a little bit odd. I told Billie about it and he told me to come back tomorrow for a replacement salad. Billie goes back to Washington DC on Saturday so I’m trying to get as much time in with him before he leaves.

The movie was at 6:15 in Chelsea so strolled around the terribly humid midtown and then we had a quick little jazz diversion in Central Park which was even more humid. I was drenched when we made it down to the subway, feeling pretty good and sweaty. I love talking with Billie, just walking around midtown talking freely about whatever it is on our minds. He’s such a dear friend and we’ve known each other about 23 years. Billie is my chocolate sister from the Chocolate City.

Tutti Frutti

Wednesday. Blasé boring and passe. Not complaining though. Not at all. Last night was pretty mellow. I was reading the Joe My God blog. He’s under attack from the right wing Christians who were appalled by Joe’s writing about the serviceman who was denied a funeral service in Arlington,Texas because he was gay. It made almost all the gay blogs, though not this one. But the right wing Christians are calling for Joe’s blog to be shut down and that Joe should be arrested. He didn’t do or write anything wrong or profane, just the fact ma’am. And they want his blood. That had me fired up. Bill came home as I was reading this, and since he is a Christian, brought up in an evangelical church, I asked his opinion on this. It started out as a dialog which turned into a monologue. It was informative and rambling and after all that I forgot what the original subject was, which goes to show you how far we strayed from the initial topic at hand.

We watched Weeds which of course was quite good and funny and edgy. Oh that Mary Louise Parker, can she get any more harebrained? I’m sure she could. Bill turned in and I watched In The Life the gay PBS show. Loved it of course. Gets me all fired up and makes me feel so gay and proud which is a good thing to be.

I neglected to mention that I ran into dear sweet Martha Keavney last week when I was heading to Madison Square Garden to see the non-WNBA basketball game. She was looking good and it was great to see her again. She asked about brother Frank’s health and I gave her the details. We made some quick small talk, she mentioned that she has a new comic book coming out. (can’t wait) Though it won’t be badly drawn, I am excited to see what she has up her sleeve. Really, I can’t wait.

Today the office was so quiet. Just Greg Stevens, myself, Carla the receptionist, one of the directors and Curly playing the role of solo stooge. I did very little at work today. I wish there was a project that I could work on, something to pass the time. I know, I know, careful what you wish for. I think I might be developing Münchhausen Syndrome, only instead of a child, I’m thinking about endangering the office, and showing how worthwhile it is to have me around when I save their asses. But how can I endanger them? I was thinking hallucinogenic mushrooms baked into something, but I’d rather keep those for a special occasion. And for those who are actually wondering, no I wouldn’t really do that. I am kidding. Really I am. Ask anyone who knows me. They will tell you that I would only give the mushrooms to people I really like, and who has done them before.

This is what the world looked like when I woke up this morning.

And a clip has surfaced via You Tube of course. This one oddly proves DICK Cheney to be right about somethings. Very interesting. Unfortunately it’s from 1994.

Here’s DICK Cheney explaining why we should not invade Iraq.

Here’s a little bit from the Daily Show to take care of that agita from the previous video

The View From The Afternoon

Oh what a weird day this has been. Is Mercury in retrograde? Tis the season you know, or so I’ve been told. Had a fun talk with Harpy last night. He’s proving to be my editor and a decent one at that. A regular Perry White he is. He gave me the suggestion to not write about getting bagels everyday which I don’t do, only on Saturdays and Sundays, which could be the only time he actually reads this blog. Actually Harpy and Kathe are the only subscribers I have, everyone else reads at their own pace. Subscribers get this everyday, or a notification in their email. Harpy’s latest good idea is to provide captions when I post photographs. I do listen to what he has to say and looking forward to making suggestions to his blog. I’m not holding my breath.

Bill actually washed the bed sheets yesterday and that is something that requires a dryer, not drying on racks throughout the apartment. Clean sheets made for a good night’s sleep and that is what I had, making it extremely difficult to wake up this morning. But I struggled and got out of bed after Bill kissed me good bye for the day. Shower etc just like most everyone else in this metropolitan area, meaning us working stiffs. The day felt odd from the get go. Uneventful bus ride, no thinking in the back of my head that a terrorist attack was about to happen, which sometimes floats through my consciousness.

Once again I was the first one in the office, starting up the machines, changing into a dry undershirt, making coffee. People once again came in. Tomorrow is Greg Stevens birthday and since Tom Chin was going to be out tomorrow, we had a little celebration today. It was a beautiful day, the weather forecasters saying that this would be the best day weather wise this week and for once they were right. I didn’t mind wandering around midtown buying champagne, cup cakes and a birthday card. I arranged for a small soirée towards the end of the day. These little get togethers are usually good for morale and relaxes most everyone. Most everyone.

Three of the guys, Larry, Moe and Curly seemed a bit standoffish. I asked Carla to walk around the office with a birthday card for everyone to sign, and apparently one of the stooges had a problem with that, saying that signing the card would mean that he likes Greg Stevens. I had no idea that there was this animosity towards Greg. I’ve known Greg since 2002 and he’s always been a nice guy, very kind. Never heard anyone say a bad word about him until today.

Larry, the lead stooge just sat at the conference table working with his papers, while we drank champagne and ate cup cakes. And of course Moe and Curly just stood around and brooded which did little to dampen our spirits. What jerks though. If you don’t want to be there, then don’t be there. Larry and Moe were the ones going to Maryland tomorrow and Larry was the one who shouted from his office (as I was telling Moe the info on the trip) that he would set up the itinerary himself. Carla the receptionist congratulated Moe on his recent engagement to his girlfriend. Moe just shrugged. Carla also told me that I was finding out that most of these guys are jerks. Carla once again was right. She and I aren’t going to get involved in this office bullshit. I think aligning ourselves with the president of the company is a good idea. And Greg Stevens is that president. Forget Larry, Moe and Curly. Turd blossoms indeed.

Beats To The Rhyme

It’s a Monday again. Came here just in time. Good to interact with other people and to get paid for it makes it even sweeter. I’d rather have been at the beach of course. I’d always rather be at the beach. Bill stayed in bed today since he said his back was bothering him. Seemed ok last night, so I guess we can blame the bed for his troubles. He spent the day at home, then doing laundry at the laundromat. He doesn’t want to use the washing machine in the kitchen, preferring to lug several pounds of clothing down four flights of stairs, then over to a washing machine a few blocks away in 90 degree heat. He wants his clothes cleaned and dried right away, rather than hanging them on racks in the kitchen and the bathroom. I heard it does wonders for the back. I don’t really care. He has the options and refuses to use them, instead preferring to throw money literally down the drain. Generally I’ve stopped giving Bill any suggestions since they go unheeded most, if not all, of the time. It seems to work out best for us. He doesn’t have to hear anything he doesn’t want to hear and I can save my breath. Win win, wouldn’t you say?

Work was quiet today. Vivek and the office Mick went to Australia on Friday, not coming back until this upcoming Friday. So no sub-continent shouting to complain about. Greg Stevens was in. It’s fun to watch him type with one finger. He’s always had a secretary which enabled him to never type. Now he has to type and he’s strictly hunt and peck. He’s also lacking in being computer savvy so a few times today I had to go and try to figure out what is going on with his computer. Sometimes it’s just slow, sometimes he’s typed in the wrong address. Today he lost his portfolio. It was there, but it took a while for it to load fully. I don’t mind. It makes me look good and computer savvy. I can shock and awe them with a quick Ctrl/Alt/Delete. Don’t get me started on the task manager. That might be too much for them. Carla the receptionist had a friend of hers staying over the weekend and they were leaving today so she asked if she could leave early. As long as her work was finished for the day it was alright by me. Tom Chin left early also so no one was going to mind.

One of my tasks that I do in the office is make travel arrangements. Since there is no company card yet, they payment has to be done with the passenger’s credit card. I sure as hell ain’t going to use my plastic. I try to get the best price, sometimes my plane, sometimes by train. Today was both. I arranged for a one day trip to Boston via Jet Blue, for 2 later this month. Easy peasy. Of course there could always be a snag. In the last hour of work I was asked about train info for 2 from New York to Maryland. Once again, I have to get their card. A train this Wednesday from Penn Station to Maryland for 2 was going to cost about $400.00. It was all set, once they decided on a departure time. I gave one of the guys a final figure and the other one say, forget it, he’ll do it himself. That was fine by me. It was 4:50 and I was getting ready to go home anyhow.


Another beautiful day, another day with no one around to do anything with. Last night was pretty mellow, watched a dvd about Howard Zinn, titled You Can’t Be Neutral On a Moving Train. Very good and very informative and what a nice guy Howard Zinn seems to be. It’s good that he’s on the left side of things in the country, we need people like him to look under the rug and show us the sins that have been done on our name. It’s recommended and available through Netflix.

Here is a link to a film in a similar vein called No End in Sight

This is about the US involvement in Iraq, the endless fiasco to put it politely. Some other noise was made regarding reinstating the draft, “I think it certainly makes sense to consider it,” Lt. Gen. Douglas Luke told NPR. “And I can tell you this has always been an option on the table. But, ultimately this is a policy matter between meeting the demands for the nation’s security one means or another.” That’s alarming and they’re saying that it would be a wake up call for middle America which could actually end the war since the draft would cause sacrifices that no one really wants to make.
Cut and Paste THIS:

Busy multi media day today eh? Merv Griffin died, he was 82. Tony Wilson died on Friday. He was the founder of Factory Records in the UK, and the subject of the excellent 24 Hour Party People, which is recommended, even if you don’t know anything about that scene. I went with Bill and Pedro to see it in the cinema and they didn’t know anything at all about the Manchester music scene and loved it almost as much as I did. So go check that out if you haven’t already.

Actually saw Julio last night, he came up with 2.5 dozen eggs, about 10 pounds of chicken breast and strawberries. He can be such a romantic. Other guys would bring flowers, but not Julio… Actually the production company he works for did a fast food commercial and all these things were laying around. I’m sure they were picked over already, so it looks like poultry products will be on the menu for the next week or so, though the chicken breasts are quite frozen and would take a day or two to thaw out completely.

It was too nice to stay in again and I wasn’t in the mood for Manhattan again since I’ll be there tomorrow. Today I decided to stay on the jelly side of the Hudson and walked up to the Hoboken Historical Society and viewed their exhibition of Hoboken Music. Big wall of Sinatra, Stephen Foster, Blind Tom (whom I never heard of before) some McSwells and a few other rock and roll groups and clubs and recording studios. It was an ok exhibit and rumored to have Steve Fallon making an appearance later in the year for a seminar. If he’s smoking a Newport and drinking a Rolling Rock, that means it’s going to be a long night.

Spoke with brother Frank over phone lines laden with static which was frustrating to the both of us. Spoke with Annemarie as well. Now I’m just hanging out waiting for the meteor shower.

Here’s some pics to complete the johnozed multimedia extravaganza…








Last Goodbye

A beautiful Saturday. Yet with nothing to do. Last night I was so achy what with the rain and everything and I slept like a log, woke up refreshed which is how it should be. Did the usual thing, which according to Harpy, you don’t want to know about so for your sensitive soul I shall refrain from writing about it. Instead I write about how I am avoiding writing about the mundane things in my day to day life. You want flair, you want drama. Well it looks like I seem to be all out of both. Deal with it, yo.

It was a beautiful day, and I definitely didn’t want to sit in the apartment or for that case, I didn’t want to stay in Hoboken. Of course, no one is around to do anything with. I called Roda, but he was busy. Same with Julio. Bill was at his vocal classes and then to his folks, and Juan was working in goddamned Edison NJ. And I missed Song totally, since he flew back to Sydney today. I decided to head into the city and perhaps go to Summerstage. Some New Orleans thing was going on and it was something to do. I fortified myself with things to read, and bought two bananas.

Suit Seller

I spoke on the phone with Meghan Taylor Mastro for quite a while on the phone. The Guitar Bar All Stars are playing a make up date at Sinatra Park to make up for their original show which was rained out. Meghan told me Jim was touring with Ian Hunter in Europe. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing Meghan and Jim and Lily and Ruby. Lily, who’s been working at the Guitar Bar may even jam with the All Stars, though since she works there, she’s an All Star to begin with.


The bus ride was uneventful as was most everything in the day. I stopped by Bryant Park just to see if I could connect with the wireless set up there and I couldn’t. I did call Arcata and spoke with Earl for a spell as I walked up Sixth Avenue. Walking into the park I was surprised at the amount of people roaming about. I wound up on the rock of course, listening to some New Orleans music, getting a little too jazzy and watching various other jazz aficionados.

I got tired of that after the first act. My back was aching and certain parts of the rock don’t lend itself for comfort. I walked it off, finding a bench for support. The Soul Rebel Brass Band took the stage and I could hear them quite clearly as the horns meshed with an Asian drum group beat their percussion not too far away. Soon I made my way out of the park after hanging out for a few hours, doing things that I could just as easily done at home. Not that it would have been the same. On the contrary, there’s a certain energy in Manhattan, and a certain energy in Central Park that I simply cannot duplicate in my apartment, or in Hoboken.

As I was getting ready to head into the city I was seized by an absurd sense of the surreal, or it may have been a surreal sense of the absurd. I had my camera and took some interesting photos. Or at least, I’d like to think so.






Asian Percussion

RIP Tony Wilson 1950-2007


Last night turned out to be a lot of fun. It was a magical evening of sorts. It was an ok day and that’s where I’ll start. I left my phone on the windowsill on Wednesday leaving the window open overnight and when the violent rainstorm hit, my phone was drenched. I figured it would take care of itself and dry off and start working again. But no, that didn’t happen. I couldn’t dial 3, 6 or 9, and what’s worse, I couldn’t answer any incoming calls. I had to get a new cellphone due to my ineptitude. I use T Mobile so I had to go across the street where I had a run in a few weeks before.

I knew it was the late afternoon shift that gave me grief so I decided to go before they came in. I wound up getting a new phone, re-upping my contract and I went WiFi. It seems to make sense, they say it’s the wave of the future. So basically my calls will be made over the Internet and there’s supposed to be clearer reception, but no one has called and I’ve been busy trying to find a working WiFi spot. Bryant Park wasn’t really working today, and neither has most Starbucks. Not that I’ve gone into Starbucks, mainly lurking outside the door is where I could be found.

I met up with Billie after work, the plan being, meeting Bill at the concert at Asser Levy Park in Brighton Beach, next to Coney Island. Billie and I walked up to 57th Street and 7th Avenue, Carnegie Hall, on the way, me smoking a Padron and making Billie laugh while we both scoped out the menfolk. It was Bill’s good idea to go to Carnegie Hall, what with all of our practice, it would be a shame to see our talents go to waste. But the hall was under repair and we walked down to the waiting Q train. It filled up at the next stop and even more so at Herald Square. Bill’s idea was that if we got on at the first station, we’d at least have seats for the hour long train ride ahead.

We rode the train from beginning to end, last stop Coney Island. Daft Punk were playing Keyspan Stadium so it was an interesting crowd walking through the station. Billie and I walked up to the boardwalk, and onto the beach where we took some snapshots after getting a little jazzy.

As we stumbled into the park, I overheard Marty Markowitz say something that sounded like the B-52’s, the headliners if you will, will be going on first. I wasn’t sure what I heard and he didn’t repeat it. No one wanted to see Patty Smyth and Scandal, aka Mrs. John McEnroe’s band. It turned out Marty was right and at around 8:10 the B-52’s hit the stage with a really funky version of Mesopotamia. After that it was the hitsville favorite express, with 4 or 5 new songs sprinkled throughout. I was up and grooving and eventually Bill and Billie were as well.

I called Chaz during the first number, he hadn’t shown yet, and left a voice mail for him letting him know that the show had started. He arrived at the end of the next to last song. Poor Chaz. He was off like a march hare, he knows a lot of people. Billie and Bill and I finished dancing to the last song, Rock Lobster of course. We were close to the subway station and had a leisurely stroll in that direction. Then Billie mentioned that someone he had been training with told him about a hat store on Neptune Avenue. It was about 9:45 and I didn’t see the point in going that way, especially since the train was only about 50 yards away.

But I didn’t want to be a wet blanket so I grudgingly walked along. No one knew exactly where the hat store was and we walked to Neptune Avenue, with nary a chapeau in sight. We turned around and headed back to the subway when suddenly Bill decides to cross the street. He walks over to the car which is a Zip Car and pulls out his wallet. I’m thinking he’s going to see if his key card will work on it and I’m surprised that it does. He starts to get in and now I’m thinking he’s stealing the car. No, that’s me, getting all up in my own head. Bill rented the car for the evening so that we wouldn’t have to take a very long train ride back to Manhattan and wind up in the bus terminal waiting for our buses.

They both played me good. Billie was able to get a ride to his hotel in Secaucus and Bill and I were back in Hoboken soon after that. I was in bed by midnight, getting up and going to work in yet another rainstorm. Now I’m home, the WNBA game is actually next week. Bill asleep, and I’m quite tired.

Here’s some pics. Enjoy!










Until You Said I’m Gone

Last night, nice and quiet. Bill was at his folks, Juan somewhere in NJ, Song with Ray also somewhere in NJ, Julio and Stine dealing with extended family, Annemarie and Co. in Arcata, so I guess everyone was where they were supposed to be. Who knows where Harpy was, he only calls to suggest editing, and Pedro doing the thing that Pedro does with humor and innuendo. I just hung out, downloaded some Mamas and the Papas songs, and watched a pretty good documentary on Sam Cooke on PBS, which had interviews with Lou Rawls, Aretha Franklin, Bobby Womack and a surprisingly fit, Allen Klein. For those playing at home, Allen Klein was a major factor in the break up of the Beatles. Also owns the early Rolling Stones recordings up to 1971, as well as Donovan and of course, Sam Cooke.

Then I watched the usual bad news at 11:00 and wound up in bed after that, under the cool air blowing in my vicinity. It wasn’t blowing as strong as I would have liked. (Bob Allen reference?) I soon fell asleep though, only to be awoken by the sound of a monsoon around 4:30. It was a good thing I put the unit in the window since I would have had to close the windows making the bedroom a lot stuffier than it usually is. I should have closed the windows throughout the apartment but didn’t think of it at the time. Thought about it when I saw that my cellphone that I left laying on the window sill was now soaked. It barely worked after that. I didn’t pay it much attention, figuring that it would dry up and start working again. Which it is, sort of. Or at least, that’s what the cellphone has been doing all day, drying.

Fortunately it stopped raining when I left and I was not surprised that it was a lot more humid today, even after the storm than it was the past days. Today was actually when it felt like it was 100 degrees. It was uncomfortable to be in the sunlight for more than a few minutes. The storm which had some tornado elements, touched down in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn and uprooted trees and damaged houses. It also flooded rail lines and subways causing half of the office to be out and the other half rather soggy when they eventually came in. Greg Stevens came in and looked like he was in a wet dress shirt competition. I offered to run out and get him a t shirt, but he opted to go to Brooks Brothers instead and bought a new shirt since he had a reason to do so.

Carla the receptionist eventually made it in, after letting everyone in Astoria get on the subway before her. She went and had some breakfast while the crowd thinned a bit, and also went and changed her clothes since she had perspired on her previous work clothes. Smart girl. Also Brooks Brothers isn’t exactly in her budget. It was a quiet day and it crawled somewhat. I did see Billie when I went and got a salad. That place wasn’t too crowded, due to police tape outside the door. Nothing as far as I could see happened, and other people were going under the tape, gingerly stepping over the outline of a body on the sidewalk outside.

The Beastie Boys are playing a benefit at Summerstage tonight and I decided to pass. Too humid out and more than likely the rock would still be wet and muddy. Plus I’m seeing the B-52’s tomorrow night with Bill and Billie, and then on Friday, Bill and I are going to a WNBA game. No singing this time, just to enjoy the game and scope out some chicks.

Patrick Cleandenim. I’m digging his song, Until You Said I’m Gone. Check him out on iTunes. The song is worth 99 cents at least. I got it on a compilation cd from the Word Magazine from England. I buy it from time to time when I’m jonesing for some British music press. If you see the issue with Leonard Cohen on the cover, snap it up, not just for the fine writing inside, but also for the really good cd.

Here is the Daily Show’s take on Bob Allen

Words of Love

Well they said that today there was going to be a heat index of 100 degrees which is insane, yet it didn’t actually feel like that. It seemed hotter the past few days. I judge this by the amount that I sweat, and today I simply didn’t sweat as much as I had. There were still sweat stains but I didn’t look like someone threw a buck of water on me. I sweat at night in bed, since I’ve been putting off getting the air conditioner and placing it in the window. I always feel like it’s going to fall out and seriously injure someone. I wrote something like that a while ago.

Last night I went to bed after the news, deciding to put off the Daily Show until the next evening’s broadcast. That way I could get some ‘actual’ news instead of the ‘real’ news from Jon Stewart and company. I went to bed around 11:30 and fell asleep waking up at 3:00AM when Bill told me to turn off my alarm clock. I was right next to it and didn’t hear it, yet Bill did. That set me off a bit and had me waking up every hour on the hour.

Still, I woke up at 6:00 with Bill leaning over for a kiss. Shuffled along, singing my song, side by side. Got onto the bus on time, rode to the city again, reading the New Yorker and trying to pace myself because I wouldn’t have anything else to read for my return trip back to Hoboken. (Sidebar- I just went and check to see my alarm clock, set at 6:00 and the air conditioner was still in the window so there is no need to go downstairs and see to whomever it might be splayed under the air conditioning unit)

The office was a bit odd, with various people coming up to me and complaining about Vivek screaming and yelling throughout the day. Apparently this what it was like at his last company, the Orange Lion Investment Bank. But this is a smaller quieter office. So quiet it felt like people in the office could hear Pedro on the phone with me, all ‘nigga this and nigga that’. It’s his term of endearment for me. I never use the word myself, in fact I’ve been called that more than I have ever called anyone else that.

In fact, the first time I believe I was ever called that was when I was online at the Burger King in Harmon Meadow in Secaucus in the eighties. Maurice Menares, an old friend was on line as well and I hadn’t seen him. It was very crowded and most everyone was of a color that wasn’t white. I felt compelled to fall to my knees and offer 20 dollars to the nearest black man so that I could blow him, I was that intimidated. No wait that was Florida State Representative Bob Allen, not me. Anyway, there were many people of color and all of a sudden I hear, ‘Yo, John! What’s up nigga?’ Oh the looks I got. Not menacing or anything like that, just that I think it was the first time any of us in that Burger King ever heard a white person, me, called a nigga. Good times.

Republic of T, (to your right in the blogroll) has more of the story about Patrick Atkins and Brett Conrad, who I wrote about last night. You can cut and paste, can’t you?