The Train Is Coming

Pretty much a boring Saturday. It’s definitely cooler out weather wise, major droppage in temperature.

Here’s something from a journal, written about 12 years ago.

Went on a boat ride last night. I went on one last year with a Guyanese Social Club. This year, the same social club but with a difference. Last year the boat went up and down the Hudson River. This year it remained docked.. The seemed to have sold too many tickets. There were way too many people there. I was supposed to go last week but chickened out at the last minute. When I heard in Monday what a great time was had and what I missed and how everyone was asking for me, I resolved to go this week.

After touch and go negotiations with Marcus, it was decided to meet at the Circle Line Pier 83 at 7-7:30. I got there at 7:15 and immediately wish I had brought a jacket. The sun was sinking behind the Palisades and into the Meadowlands and with the river breezes and the upcoming fall of night I was certain it was going to get colder. I was also carrying two bottles of champagne while I wandered around waiting for Marcus.

My paranoid mind was playing tricks on me, thinking that since I backed out at the last minute last week, Marcus was going to do the same to me. I had forgotten that Marcus was always late. First thing you learn is that you always have to wait, and I’m waiting for my man Marcus. I expected that and as I lingered around the edge of the Guyanese crowd Marcus made an appearance at around 8:30.

That shows how my mind operates, revenge, retribution, retaliation and I expected Marcus to be the same way. But no, he kept his word, just his usual late self. Something I should learn to do or since I know, to do!

“I saw you before you saw me” Marcus said upon greeting me. I was sure of that since I was basically the only Caucasian in the area that didn’t work for the Circle Line. Marcus came with Jesse who was parking the car.

I was wearing a white cotton Gap shirt, baggy blue jeans and my tan suede Na Na Doc Marten boots that I bought for 15.00 in Soho. Marcus was wearing a Brown and Tan baseball cap with a tiger/leopard/zebra print on it, a silk shirt and tan pants. Jesse was looking like a rock star with round mirrored shades white t shirt, white denim jacket and white jeans.

Like I said, the boat never left the pier, too many people would make it unsafe. At one point due to overcrowding, the police arrived with dogs snapping at the party goers. Totally uncalled for. All the Guyanese women were flirting with me, thinking I was a rich American guy looking for a Guyanese wife.

The music wasn’t roots reggae, more dancehall oriented. I understood Joe Strummer singing White Man in the Hammersmith Palais, about expecting to here revolutionary reggae and instead getting a slick floor show.

Here’s some pics….

RoDa and Bill
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and now, me, today. feeling artsy
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the moody bastard
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