Monthly Archives: October 2007

Gardening At Night

It’s Halloween. Halloween used to be quite a day when I was a kid. The first costume I remember having was when I was dressed as Laurence of Lodi, a twist on Laurence of Arabia, the fact that my never used middle name is Laurence, and the actor, Peter O’Toole who starred as Laurence of Arabia.

At least that’s what I gathered since no one actually came out and told me so. I got as far as the bottom of Riverview Avenue, to Trudy Drive. That’s all I can remember. I think I was about 3 or 4 years old. Still relatively adorable with a penchant for pinching girls asses. Precocious they called me.

Years later I was able to go out on Halloween night with my friends. Mainly we all had burnt cork on our faces, trying to pass as hobos. We would go up and down Riverview Avenue, Blue Ridge Road, Calvin Avenue, down Wilson to Main Street where we’d hit the garden apartments.

That was the jackpot. We didn’t want to get there too late, it was all in the timing. Once people ran out of candy that was it. Some people, the Manzo’s mainly, would leave a dish out with a note to take only one piece of candy per hobo.

Occasionally if we felt our candy hunting ground was thinning out, we would cross over to the next town, Rochelle Park and try to get whatever candy we could find there. Sometimes there would be bigger kids with eggs chasing us from Rochelle Park, but I don’t think they had any aim at all, since none of us ever got hit by eggs.

I stopped trick or treating when kids a year or two older than me mocked me for going trick or treating. They were in high school, I was in my last year of grammar school.

Years after that, it became adult parties. I went to a party at McSwells once, dressed as Darth Vader, had the official helmet back then, I thought I was cool when I walked into McSwells, but everyone else had home made costumes, mine was bought.

Someone made Steve Fallon a Mr. Peanut costume which was possibly the best costume ever. He looked good dressed as a big peanut, monocle drawn around his eye. I had a cape that my sister in law, Elaine made for brother Frank back in their hippie days. I believe my niece Meghan has the cape now, the mask has been lost for years, a victim of moving over and over.

One of the last times I got dressed up was in the eighties. My friend Rita and I were going to the Peppermint Lounge to see REM, billed as It Crawled From The South secretly opening up for the Cramps. Rita is a makeup wiz and we decided to dress me up as Andy Warhol.

Rita applied the right pallor to my face, I was clean shaven then (singular chin you know) and we spray painted my hair white so I could go as Andy Warhol. I don’t remember what Rita dressed as, and there are no photos from that night.

Unfortunately Andy was slight of build whereas I can be described as husky. I remember going into the club with Rita and not hearing people say, ‘Oh wow, Andy Warhol.’ No, instead I heard, ‘Oh look, Phil Donahue!’ Maybe Rita was dressed as Marlo Thomas.

Look out, Superman!!

Halloween stuff?

Haunted Street corner! Boo!

Saving souls on all hallows eve……mwahahaha!!!

Have a happy and safe Halloween! And though no one has ever been killed by razor blade apples or pins in candy, you should still check it out.


Another Tuesday and aren’t you thrilled. First off, Harpy has a broken foot. Poor thing is housebound, but not gagged. He still has access to phones and email so he’s not down for the count, just momentarily waylaid. So if the four readers that read this wish him well, I guess that might be enough to get that cast off his foot a few minutes sooner. But I wish him well and look forward to his annual clog dancing at Farfetched during the upcoming holiday season, during which I will be working. I’d say ‘break a leg’ to Harpy but he might actually do that so I’ll just keep my mouth shut.

Last night was pretty good TV, forgot about Chuck and watched Everyone Hates Chris and Aliens in America instead. Bill woke up during ‘Chris’ and he groggily laughed at the episode. Bill is a big Chris Rock fan (who isn’t?) so that helped. Aliens in America was very good as well. A low key show, Not really promoted but worth catching, especially if you have any Pakistani or Indian friends. I do and watching it I can see the awkward assimilation that occurs sometimes, but I can laugh.

Then came Heroes which was better than last week. Dr. Suresh had some balls, then lost them, then found them then lost them again. Such an annoying character. Hiro still in Japan in the 1600’s which is getting thin. Not much happened to Milo V. he went from Cork, Ireland to Montreal in no time flat with his Irish girlfriend. No passport or visa problems for these two, even with Milo V’s amnesia. 21st Century schizoid woman may have shed a personality. Unfortunately it was the interesting personality. Cheerleader is back cheer leading, her father with the horn rimmed glasses is in the Ukraine, and killed his mentor. Oh yeah, spoiler alert.

Weeds was great once again. Nancy held a knife to Celia’s throat telling her to back off, only to later offer her 15,000 to rent her empty house so they could grow some product there, having been chased out but a fire inspector at the last place. Justin Kirk, playing Nancy’s brother in law does a good schnook. Always scoping out the honeys, thought he found one, turns out he was being set up. I love Justin Kirk ever since he was in Angels In America on HBO. And if you haven’t seen Angels in America yet, you really should. Mary Louise Parker is in that as well as the big names you know about already.

Then came Californication which ended it’s season quite nicely. I wasn’t sure where or how it was going to go, whether or not his ex girlfriend would marry one of the WaMu bankers from those commercials, but she did. Duchovny got his agent back together with his wife, and as he and his daughter were pulling away, after the daughter sang, Alice Cooper’s ‘Only Women Bleed’ mere hours after having her first period, the ex girlfriend jumped in the car with the two of them, leaving her WaMu banker husband standing in the street.

All in all a good TV night. Dexter was also very good on Sunday. But I’m not going to get into that right now.

Also John McGruff, president of Wanker Banker got his sorry ass canned yesterday. He was an idiot. Greg Stevens said that McGruff would be alright. He lands on his feet. I guess the gods of employment look over idiots like him. This was the asshole who I pleaded with to do something about my situation at Wanker Banker as it was getting pear shaped. He didn’t do a thing, which turned out to be ok. I had to spend a few months at McMann and Tate which was hellish, but like Steve Miller sang, ‘You’ve got to go through hell before you get to heaven…’

Steve Miller?


for the Giants fans I know (who don’t read this or much of anything except for sports pages)

Preparations for Goose night.

Nice Sunday afternoon cruise

7AM Moon

Here’s a trailer for a movie the White House doesn’t want you to see.

Tired Of Being Alone

It’s Monday and I’m fine with it. It gives me something to do, the carrot dangling at the end of the stick is a paycheck and it’s not so bad. I do like my job and have no complaints. Yesterday was rather quiet, but you read all about that, not doing anything except talking myself out of doing things. If only there were someone to do things with. That’s rather presumptuous, especially since I could have seen Jose while he was in New York, but me being tired, wet and cranky, not to mention a little dulled by the play I had just seen, I blew it off, opting to go home solo. Bill walked me to the gate but that was as far as he had gotten. He says he told me as we entered the terminal but I didn’t hear him and up to the point where I was getting onto the bus and he said ‘Ok baby, have a good night’ I thought he’d be next to me. So the farewell kiss was abrupt and my response to his ‘I love you’ was a little bit on the curt side. Let’s just say my heart wasn’t in it.

I did run into Alice Genesse when I got off the bus. She had never seen me in a suit and tie and complimented me on how good I looked. I offered condolences for her friend, Lady Jaye who had died from an undiagnosed heart condition. Lady Jaye was Genesis P. Orridge’s paramour in Psychic TV which is the band Alice has been playing with. Alice is a sweetheart which leads me to believe that as gender bending as Psychic TV is lately, they must be good people to have Alice in the band with them. Alice was sad and I gave her a hug. I had hung out quite a bit with Alice about 20 or so years ago, she was temping near me while I worked for an accounting firm and we’d have lunch in Times Square in buildings and restaurants that simply don’t exist anymore.

Saturday was rain, Sunday wasn’t. Just very windy. Like I wrote yesterday, there were too many people around so I walked around town for an hour and came home after that. Bill was understandably standoffish so communication with him was limited to that and also the fact he had two matinées as well as an evening performance. He thawed out a bit on Sunday, texting me about how he was excited to be reading the scripture reading at his church, and playing piano with a 90 voice choir. I would have liked to have seen it. Not for the religion, just for the show. But I found out to late which was Bill’s doing.

He told me that in the evening. He was so tired he called me from his parent’s apartment. Bill tried going to sleep at 8:00, he called me at 9:30, near tears. Totally stressed out. His dad is still in the nursing home, the insurance has run out and that means the cost is coming out of the savings which would stress anyone out. He was on a roller coaster ride if emotions, his high being the church service, the low being at his parents apartment in the dark. His mother, losing her mind, and very tired and his dad vegging out across town. Bill needed someone to talk to and that someone was me.

We talked about the inevitable, and the guilt that one feels sometimes when their parents are ill and fading away, and you wish that they would just go already. It’s a common enough feeling that is usually accompanied by a tremendous amount of guilt and thats what Bill is going through.

Now it’s not even 8:00 and he’s asleep in bed.

3 Minute Rule

A beautiful Sunday, which is quite nice after a very wet Saturday. Quite a quiet Saturday night, but what else is new? Got sucked into watching the Heroes marathon of the first season. It was fun to watch, saw things that I may have missed the first time around. Also finishing up the Pattie Boyd memoir, which was entertaining. She’s been living a very interesting life and continues to do so. She also looks great, and hasn’t had any work done. Just another one of those swingin’ sixties chicks. Last night also had the Beatles in Help! On the Sundance channel. That was fun to watch, especially after knowing that the Fab Four were totally stoned throughout the filming.

After that I could barely keep my eyes open and went to bed. SNL was a repeat anyhow. Drifted off to sleep listening to 20 somethings leaving Halloween parties, on their way to the next one. Hoboken is still a party town obviously. A beautiful blue sky was nice to wake up to and it was brisk as I walked and did some morning shopping. Didn’t run into anyone I knew and also didn’t curse out anyone mentally for alleged slights. A by product of not having enough coffee to interact with society.

Read the newspapers rather quickly, and tried to think of something to do. Considered going into the city, but talked myself out of it. Thought about walking to Target in Jersey City but once again talked myself out of it. Walked around Hoboken for about an hour, ran into the neighbors Mike and Nicole with their bulldog Stella who really likes me. Nicole told me that Stella always plops down on our welcome mat, staring at the door waiting to be let inside our apartment. I’d love to get a bulldog like Stella. I think she’s actually a French bull dog and I think that means money. Plus all the responsibility. And then they die on you. So, I guess I talked myself out of that as well.

The walk around Hoboken lasted exactly an hour, from the time I left the apartment to the time I got back. Lot’s of people out, perhaps too many. No herd thinning going on. Plenty of people walking in the sun which made the shady side of the street less congested with baby strollers and people. I was going to walk to Pier A but there was some autumn event crowded with families so that was a no go zone. Wandered over to Barnes and Noble instead and bought a collection of Mark Twain. Almost bought the Oscar Wilde collection but I have a few of those and never really read Mark Twain before. And it is classic American literature at a bargain price.

Now I’m at home, chillin. VH1’s I Love The 70’s is on and that’s been a fun stroll down the memory fast lane. A nostalgic Sunday afternoon. Spoke to Pedro and I might head up to Otisville next weekend. Fun to get out for the weekend, if only for an overnight. Get out and see some foliage, play dominoes and have a few beers. Sounds good to me.

Eyesight to the Blind

Last nights notes. I wrote while waiting for the play that Bill is in, Pap Smear and then decided to take notes throughout the show. Here they are.

Sitting in an off Broadway theater, off Eighth Avenue on west 43rd Street. It’s raining steadily outside. The theater seats about 75 people capacity.

I walked across town after staying late in the office, killing time and fighting bible thumpers online in an Entertainment Weekly website regarding JK Rowling stating that Dumbledore, the headmaster from the Harry Potter series is gay. People are upset with this and quoting scripture while condemning wide swaths of people.

It’s funny, I’m so used to writing online that sometimes, if I’m not sure if I spelled a word incorrectly while writing it out by hand, I expect to see the telltale sign from spell check underlining my mistake.

Jose Blackorby is in town and I found this out via Rand this morning, and that was all I heard. Jose I think is staying at a hotel at 49th and 7th avenue and supposed to be available after 7PM, but here I am at an off Broadway theater. When I walked across town in the rain, I purposefully walked past 49th and 7th, but didn’t see any hotel there at those cross streets.

If I had my way, I’d be home, in from out of the rain.

I’m the only single person here. Not a full house, but everyone else is in a group, or with a companion. My companion will be on stage in the play.

Now it’s 8:16. The play is supposed to start at 8:00 of course, but this is off Broadway so one has to put up with it. They hardly ever start on time.

I do have detailed notes at this point, but decided to skip it.

The other day when Bill offered me a ticket, I suggested Friday, but when Friday came around I figured that Saturday would be better. I mentioned it to Bill, seeing if he could switch the nights but he said it was too late. I was also supposed to have a cigar with an old friend from the music business days, Corey Williams, but I begged off, rescheduling for next week.

I just want to get home and chill out. I’m sure it would be different if I was with someone, I know I’m different if I’m with someone, but I’m not. No one to talk to, and so I write. Writing in public can be seen as being anti-social, but there’s no one being social with me so I guess it’s an uneven balance, if that’s not too much of an oxymoron.

It’s intermission and I usually run out for a smoke, but as we’re in a back room on the fifth floor and it’s raining out, it would probably take me 10 minutes to get outside.

Someone took a bath in perfume. Someone who came in after the intermission who wasn’t there in the first half.

Post show.

My overall impression is that I could write a better play, but obviously I haven’t so the playwright has me beaten on that count. I didn’t think it was the rip roaring comedy that the post card said it was, but the audience sure did. Let me put it this way, it puts the chlamydia in comedy. 4 grown men who have no clue what a OB/GYN does in the 21st century, and freak out thinking their wives are having an affair. Then they go in drag, beards and all to the doctor’s office. Comedy ensues. At least the audience thought so.

This Song Has No Title

Last night pretty mellow. A very good TV night, even better than Monday night, or maybe as good because as I wrote that I thought to myself, “what about Weeds?” A bit chilly outside, but it was toasty indoors. Bill texted me from the play he is involved with. ‘Pap Smear’ which from what I’ve read is a comedy, and when I asked Bill is this was a white bashing play he said he was being facetious when he said that last week. I looked it up on Theater Mania which gave it a mention. Bill said that last night’s opening was sold out. I wondered to myself, why was I going after work on a Friday night, when I could go on Saturday night, after lounging about in Hoboken, rather than trying to find something to occupy my time for three hours. I get out of work at 5:00, the play starts at 8:00. Bill put me on the list for Friday night and I asked if he could move it to Saturday but no, apparently the producer wrote it in stone.

Also heard from Rand that Jose Blackorby was in town. I had emailed Jose a few weeks ago, just seeing if his email address was still functioning. Apparently I sent it just in time, since he was about to shut down that email account. We made tentative plans for cocktails when he was in Manhattan and tonight he is in Manhattan. So now the plans are for an after show cocktail with Jose and Rand. Should be interesting, if we could figure out when and where to have drinks. Something to write about I suppose, both the show (which could wind up with me mumbling to myself, that I could write a better play than the one I saw) and cocktails with such a great guy as Jose.

As far as last night’s TV, Ugly Betty ruled. Really good laugh out loud funny. Marc and Cliff, the bear photographer meeting was so sweet and touching, and the scenes with Betty and Henry were sweet as well. I enjoyed the show so much that I sent an email and then called up Annemarie to suggest that she watch it even though she’s never watched it before. I enjoyed it so much last night that I watched it again this morning online which you might want to do as well.

After that I watched the Office which was good, just a bit of a let down after Ugly Betty which made me happy after watching it. Michael in the Office could be such an asshole and he was for a bit last night. It was good, just not as good as other episodes were. Scrubs season premiere came on after that. Scrubs is starting it’s final season so things should be tied up quite nicely. Elliot backed out of marrying Keith Dudemeister which is typical of Elliot. JD still hung up on Elliot, ended the show on quite a downbeat note, saying that he will stay with the mother of his child, even if he doesn’t love her.

I DVR’d My Name is Earl and 30 Rock, and Earl was a bit of a let down, and I would point the finger at Michael Rappaport for that, since I’m not much of a Michael Rappaport fan. The Joy vs Catalina story was fun though, but it was the backstory. 30 Rock was very funny, Alec Baldwin stole the episode with his imitations of Tracy Jordan’s mother and father and eventually an imitation of Tracy Jordan. Carrie Fisher was very funny too as Liz Lemon’s role model/inspiration.

Hope Harpy gets over his broken foot soon.

Tomorrow, the play.

This Time Of Night

It’s Thursday, just got home from work. It’s been a productive week work wise. Today it was raining a lot, enough to actually use an umbrella. Yesterday, not so bad, just carried the umbrella around. The play Bill has been working on opens tonight, I think it closes on Saturday. More of a showcase I guess. I’m going tomorrow night. Bill mentioned that the play might be construed as white bashing which should be interesting for me as well as for Bill. If anything it should give me something to write about. A review perhaps, a view from on the aisle.

This morning I got dressed, it was cool enough to wear a suit. I decided to wear a suit I hadn’t worn for a while, and also found a pair of shoes that lurked in the corner of the closet, a little dusty. I cleaned them off after getting dressed and headed out the door. It was when I was walking, I couldn’t help but notice that my feet felt wet. And it was a bit drafty between my legs. I got to my desk, no one else in the office and found a tear in my trousers right in the seat, and the lining of my left sleeve was a bit shoddy.

I looked at my shoes and they seemed fine initially, then upon closer inspection, there was a tiny slit on the side, barely noticeable but enough to let some water in. I do have a few pairs of shoes so that’s no big deal. The suit surprised me though, but it is over six years old. It’s also the suit I wore on 9/11. I suppose it’s time has come and gone. It’s also shiny in some spots, having been cleaned a few too many times. I am trying to clear out some closet space, and getting rid of some suits that are past their prime. This suit just needs some mending, which I am not good at so the tailor should be seeing some action this weekend. I could use the suit as a costume I’m sure. Maybe even with the Mil Mascaras mask I got today. It’s a little small for my large head so lacing up the back of the mask doesn’t seem to be much of an option. Don’t worry, pictures will eventually be taken so you can see what it looks like.

Just watched the news, some 41 year old asshole in Connecticut is in jail for beating his stepson with a 2 x 4 for taking too long on his homework. Dad went to bar afterwards in Norwalk, mom took son to hospital. Mom said dad is really sorry. Sorry he got caught I bet. In my downtime I read a couple of blogs, namely Keith Boykin, about the Obama/McClurkin fiasco. Obama is still doing the three day tour of South Carolina with various gospel singers, a few and not just McClurkin have been known to espouse views from the stage condemning homosexuality. This is going to cost Obama the nomination due to his loss of support from the LGBT people.

Reading about the hatred that people have for homosexuals, through Keith Boykin’s blog I was reminded of what happened to Ronnie Paris: January, 2005, three year old Ronnie Antonio Paris died of injuries after being beaten by his father, Ronnie Paris, Jr. Ronnie’s father, Ronnie Paris, Jr., was convicted of second degree murder. News reports give us the impression Ronnie Antonio Paris’ father was trying to make Ronnie Antonio tough and to teach him to fight, because he did not want Ronnie Antonio to grow up to be gay.

The brain trauma Ronnie Antonio received when he was being taught to fight appears to have been too much for his body. News articles indicate he stopped eating, wet himself and went into a coma. He died six days later.

Yes, beat your children if they do badly in school…and kill them if you think they’re going to turn out gay, especially if they’re only 3 years old. It must be in the bible somewhere that it’s ok.

The Iceman waiteth (bags of ice to his right)

Coffee time

Midtown Art Gallery (where the chocolate Jesus was hung during easter week)

Dependable glass or bendable ass?

Newsstand snacks

Power huddle

Day After Day

A rainy Wednesday. Bill came home again last night, in a better mood and in better spirits. Of course he came in as I was fading fast, and I wound up going to bed before him. He was surprised but I knew I had a busy day today. He left this morning, around 5:30, kissing me good bye, leaving me to get up about a half hour later to overcast skies, about to rain. He made coffee again which was very nice. The act of making coffee and the coffee itself that is. Then it was out the door for me.

No pink skies this morning, all was gray. Read the New Yorker on the bus, still a week behind. Wandered through midtown, through Grand Central Station, decided to try a new program on the camera, enabling me to take 10 shots in sequence. Of course when the photographer is moving and the subjects are moving things tend to get blurry but following the philosophy of Andy Warhol, ‘there’s no such thing as a bad picture’ I was able to get through. I deleted most of the blurry pictures, and left what I considered to be the best of the set. You decide if you dare, all four of you.

Today was the day of a showcase for Canon copiers. I like their cameras obviously. My office has a leased Canon copier and the lease is up in March 2008. Our distributer wanted to meet me and she invited me to the Hotel Pennsylvania to see the latest models. An excuse to get out of the office? With a free lunch? I am so there, so there! It was scheduled from 11:00-3:00 and I actually expected being there for that amount of time but after about 45 minutes I was done. The saleswoman made her pitch and let me eat a sandwich in peace as I gazed, glazed at a copier catalog.

I wandered around the hotel for a bit trying to figure out my next move. I knew Carla Emalee was in the area and texted her. She was having lunch and she soon came over and we chatted as I walked her back to her office. We caught up on things, she’s doing well and looked good, and she seems happy. Now we just have to find her a boyfriend. I walked across town on 34th street, window shopping, then crossed to Third Avenue, where an elderly woman told me I was almost hit by some guy swinging an umbrella and that if that happened she would have hit said guy with umbrella with her cane.

The afternoon flew by, Vivek and I had a one on one about his expenses which between the two of us we were able to figure out what was and wasn’t done. That means it should all be cleared up by the end of the week, which is actually two days from now. Not a problem says I. After work, it was still threatening to rain, I hadn’t opened my umbrella all day. I fired up my Padron 5000. Had a Padron 7000 yesterday and it was really good. Got to keep an eye out for those since no one really has them in stock.

As I was walking past one of the entrances to Grand Central Station, an elderly gent walking with a cane stumbled right in front of me. A guy walking alongside me caught him mostly, I grabbed one of his arms. We sat him down and asked if he was ok. He said in broken English that he had Parkinson’s disease. I asked him if he was on medication, or needed water, he said no, he needed to get to the post office. I offered him my arm so he could lean on me for support as we headed to the post office. He asked my name and I told him. His name was Hugo.

His leg freezes up which is what caused him to stumble. He would take a few tiny steps then spurt forth, but he wasn’t doing that well. I kept telling him to take his time. I wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere, just enjoying my cigar. I got him to the post office, most of the people got out of our way, probably muttering under their breath. As Hugo was headed inside he told me he’d pray for me. I told him to save the prayer and to pray for himself instead. I watched him as he struggled up the ramp, and seeing him through the doors I turned and headed towards the bus terminal.

Who ordered a rainy Wednesday?

Here’s some pics.

Grand Central ghosts

sort of looks like John McCain gone to seed

Playing with the flash

All The Way To Memphis

It’s a Tuesday and that’s not so bad. Southern California is burning and that’s bad though. Hopefully anyone I know (or that you know) is safe and will still have a roof over their head when the inferno is finished. I think Connie’s sister Jennifer is ok, haven’t heard anything about Oxnard Shores and I know Steve Snaporitao lives or lived out there. I did hear he was coming back east, back in the closet. You see out in California he’s out of the closet but under the watchful gaze of his mother he’s just a confused lug in New Jersey.

Last night was pretty mellow and also a very good night of television. It started after watching an hour of Scrubs naturally, then I watched Chuck which was good once again after last week’s mediocre episode. Good storyline involving a Chinese mafia, a Chinese spy and her kidnapped brother. Good fight scenes though though oddly filmed. When The good girl spy and the good guy spy would throw a punch or a sauce pan, the action froze for a split second, then went back into attack mode. Other than that it was good overall.

Then came Heroes, also pretty good. The Indian doctor is turning into a bitch, the mind reading bear cop can face down Sylar with a gun but is afraid to see his father, who turned out to be a real dick, though the mind reading bear cop didn’t know it at the time. Adrian Pasdar was his partner as the sought the father. Milo V. still buff and confused (maybe closeted?) from his amnesia. Micah, the kid with the jeri curls was cute talking to his cousin about their powers. She’s an interesting character, though she met up with Doctor Bitch who was thrown against a wall by 21st Century Schizoid Woman. And Hiro’s storyline is getting thin. But still it was enjoyable.

Then came the jewel in the crown, Weeds. So much happened in a half hour. Nancy is making money hand over fist and tried to do right by her late six month husband’s first wife, who didn’t trust her, hired a private eye, who tried to blackmail Nancy who thanks to Shane, her youngest got out of that jam. Celia messed up her estranged wheelchair bound husband, a stiletto heel on the scrotum will do that to you. Celia is deliciously and certifiably nuts. And is Conrad getting back into Nancy’s life?

Then came Californication which was really good. Not as good as Weeds, but still quite good. David Duchovny’s character actually elicited sympathy. The mother of his daughter usually gets all the sympathy, but Duchovny’s turn as a writer who accidentally had sex with a 16 year old girl, who turns out to be the soon to be step daughter of the mother of his daughter stole his latest manuscript and presented it as her own. Duchovny can’t say anything about it due to the fact that the 16 year old gave him head, though to his credit he thought she was of age.

Bill came home last night, awfully tired and with a head filling with mucous. He’s been working as much as he can at the law firm, then rehearsing two plays as well as dealing with his dad in the nursing home and his mother who’s not doing so well with reality. He sometimes winds up doing too much then he crashes physically, getting sick. He slept in a real bed, and took the day off so he could recharge his batteries somewhat.

Here’s a few pics.

Bill, all tuckered out.

But the sun does rise



Better Luck

Back to work day, Monday that is. Last night was mellow. Bill called a couple of times, totally stressed. His mother’s is not doing so well mentally and insists on fighting or arguing with Bill on most points. He’ll tell her that they’ll be doing such and such and then an hour or so later freaks out and asks him all over again about the same topic. Short term memory is shot. Bill was quite edgy, calling me from the park across the street from the nursing home where Bill’s father is, needing to get away from his mother if only for a few minutes. He’s sleeping over here tonight for the first time in about a week. He’s been sleeping on a fold out sofa bed which has that lovely bar, designed to crush your spinal cord, leaving you bent over the entire next day.

Had to go back to work today which wasn’t so bad if I look at it as something to do and get paid for doing it. My workload has increased since Carla the ex-receptionist changed her name to Emalee and decided to design head wear for Foot Locker. As long as she doesn’t have to wear a referee’s striped jersey, she’s fine with it. Most everyone was in the office today which was sort of like a homecoming. It was a crisp autumn day again but as afternoon came it was in the 70 degree range. A few errands to run including a swing past the door man with the mustache I envy.

Read a couple of blogs today, signed a few more petitions. Read on the Huffington Post that Barack Obama was going on a barn storming tour with Donnie McClurkin, fabled ex-gay, no friend of gay people, and Donnie goes down the road equating homosexuality to pedophilia. If it’s true and it seems to be, that would make the second democratic candidate that I’ve dropped so far.

First dropped was John Edwards who said he’s not for same sex marriage, so it was goodbye to John Edwards. Now, it’s Barack Obama. Are they driving me into the arms of Hillary Clinton. I saw her once on the street and said hi a few years ago and she wished me a Happy New Year since it was the first week of the year back then but that’s no reason to vote for someone is it?. I do have issues with her husband what’s his name.
Mr. Defense of Marriage Act. A big, hearty fuck you to him.

Chatted with Juan a bit today online. He’s trying to figure out a costume to wear while he camps it up with his boyfriend this weekend. The sailor outfit is out, due to the fact another couple that’s going to be there does the sailor look every year. He was leaning towards a sexy policeman. That got me thinking, even though I don’t plan on going to any parties or trick or treating, I bought a wrestling mask, like Mil Mascaras used to wear back in his professional wrestling days. Mil Mascaras means ‘a thousand masks in Spanish. Sometime when Mil would wrestler, his opponent would try to unmask Mil, only to find, another mask, underneath the original! My idea is to wear the wrestling mask with a suit and tie, preferably smoking a cigar. I think it would make a good image, very Love and Rockets.

Here’s some pics. Bon appetit!

Really getting into the job

I love his moustache. I plan on getting a closer picture someday.

The wrestling mask. M is for Mil Mascaras!

Here’s the linkage for that Huffington Post article:
cut n’paste please

Wordy Rappinghood

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday, though I’m not in Pleasant Valley, I’m in Hoboken and if the weather is how it is in Hoboken, then Pleasant Valley must be mighty pleasant indeed. Last night I didn’t do much of anything except for some Jazz riffs in 4/20 time. A difficult time signature, quite manic possibly. I can’t even begin to think how many beats per minute (BPM) it would entail. So there was nothing complicated outside my mind, all internal. I was thinking about how if anyone was stuck, thinking of a present to get me, well they should get me the dvd of Hannah and Her Sisters.

I was surfing the channels at 9:00 and found that Hannah and Her Sisters was on one of the channels. I watched the whole thing from start to finish, loving it. It really is one of Woody Allen’s best, in the top five at least. I saw it initially in Boston with Steve Saporito when we traveled to meet the Fall when they were on tour for Bend Sinister. It was a cold February afternoon and we needed some shelter. The movie came out maybe a week before and both Steve and I liked Woody Allen a lot, so it was a good idea. Though at that time I was terribly hung up on Steve, thinking he was ‘the one’, I would’ve gone anywhere he suggested. Such a silly youth I was. Steve didn’t feel the same way and That’s life, that’s what people say.

So many good lines, great acting, and one of the last glimpses of Manhattan before it became gentrified. Mainly the scenes with Barbara Hershey in Soho. Now that whole area is all very upscale stores. Big money names. Definitely not as fun as it was then and that was at the tipping point. Hardly anyone went down there. I hardly went down there so each time I did actually go to SohoZat or Rocks in Your Head or art galleries it was exotic and urban and perhaps a hint of danger, just from deserted streets. The music is classic, Dianne Weist won a well deserved Oscar, and the first time I saw Hannah and Her Sisters, I got all misty at the end.

After that I watched the repeat of Saturday Night Live with Le Bron James and Kanye West. Le Bron James was still very funny. Good to see a top ranking professional athlete, intelligent enough to mock stereotypes and make fun of himself. I was also reading Pattie Boyd’s memoir, Something in the Way She Layla’s. No it’s actually called Wonderful Tonight. I went to the George Harrison/Beatles/Swinging London parts and dove right in. Wanted some light fare to read and that Pattie was the fairest of them all.

Chatted online with my niece Corinne last night. She told me that there was an impromptu birthday gathering for brother Frank and she was offering to pick me up in Hoboken to deliver me to Garfield. A grand idea indeed. I woke up this morning, ran a few errands, thought about making plans to see at least Roda’s part of the Artist Studio Tour. I called Roda who told me he wasn’t even sure if he was going to make it. His artwork was there, just that he might not be. That was cool. One less thing to hustle for.

I sat on the stoop, eventually getting a call from Elaine who was in the car with Corinne. In Garfield soon enough where we wound up waiting for Frank. Brother Brian and family weren’t able to make it so it was that much more low key. Frank arrived, looking good, almost back to his old self, getting a little fast with the wit, sometimes stumbling when thoughts and words collide but that happens to me to. A few jokes about strokes were made which really hammered home how much better he has gotten. He mentioned a magazine at the rehab unit called Stroke. I initially thought Gay Porn, Rob, Meghan’s husband thought Golf, when it was actually about strokes. Stuff like that.

A nice ravioli dinner with pistachio cake made by Elaine. After a few hours I had to head back to Hoboken and got a ride from Meghan and Rob in Rob’s new big ass jeep. All quite on the fly and it worked out quite nicely.

Look! Pics!

Lil’ Cory

Meghan and Rob

Spot the pocket book mouth

and once tickled…

and a little photo editing..voila!

Garfield ghost

You Won’t See Me

After an afternoon, followed by an evening of rain, after watching TV all night, finally falling asleep around 12:30 or so I woke up to a crisp autumn morning. Nothing to eat for breakfast meant that I would have to go to the supermarket to pick up provisions if I was going to break my fast. I ran into Julio kissing Stine goodbye on the third floor landing. Julio was headed to West New York to repair some repairs that a well intentioned tenant had performed themselves, only to make matters worse and create the need for Julio to go and do his landlord bit.

I walked him to his car and then it was off to run errands at 9:00 in the morning. The stroller set were making their initial appearances on Washington Street which meant that I had better get out of there quickly lest I start tripping over the many baby carriages that always spring up on a Saturday morning after a rainfall. Even made it to the bank. To make a deposit. In my account. That hardly ever happens, maybe twice a month. This allows me to see the fresh scrubbed faces behind the two inch glass that separates me from my money.

I decided to hold off on the jazz experience until 4:20 PM, after reading yesterday the meaning behind 4:20. It’s a term that I had heard many times, yet never put into practice until today. Now it’s 4:41 and this is the second attempt at writing this since the first attempt froze up and is now floating somewhere in cyberspace. It froze at 4:24 tainting what should have been a pleasant 4:20 experience. No worries, it’s just that I hardly ever rewrite and with Harpy not being a very good editor these days I am left on my own.

I walked around Hoboken for a spell earlier, not affected by any paranoia that sometimes duets with a good jazz riff. It was good to get out of the house as it was a brilliant day. I considered heading into the city to check out some galleries or maybe see Across the Universe, that Juan recommended but I wasn’t that motivated to do so. I did get sucked into watching a good TV movie about Helen Keller, starring Mare Winningham and Blythe Danner. It takes place after the Miracle Worker, after Helen leaves Alabama to go to school at Radcliffe. There’s a soft spot in my heart for Helen Keller, after I read and reread her biography in grammar school. I never did see the Miracle Worker, though I did enjoy this. I do love Mare Winningham and Blythe Danner was also very good as Anne Sullivan.

I tried to think of something to do, thought about heading into the city, maybe check out some galleries, thought about seeing Across The Universe on Juan’s recommendation, but with the motivation of someone else to go with I wound up by the edge of the Hudson River on a bench,writing. I know I could have called up someone to join me but I didn’t. More than likely I would have heard excuses on why some people couldn’t join me. No big deal, in fact I could have been wrong, someone might have said yes but I didn’t take that chance.

Tomorrow is the Artist’s Studio Tour in Hoboken. An open house of sorts, people wander around from studio to studio throughout Hoboken, looking at art and drinking wine and eating cheese and crackers. After a few stops on the tour, one sometimes starts judging the art by the food and wine the artists put out. Roda is taking part in the tour as well as Tim Daly and Hiro Takeshita. Hiro lives in the building I lived in 23 years ago on Madison Street. I’m sure if you go back to a Sunday in last year’s blog, or perhaps in 2005 you’ll see an entry regarding the tours during those years.

And now, some pics.

Guess who?

Run! Run for your life! And get the hell out of my frame!


Corner scene

NOT featured on the Artists studio tour

The Wait

Well last night was pretty mellow. It was a Friday night for me, even though it was actually Thursday. I took off work today, you see. Not that I ran out and sowed my wild oats, though that’s what Dwight Schrute was planning on doing on the Office. That basically what I did, stay and home and watched TV. Nothing special. My days of going out are fading fast, especially since no one else seems to want to go out. Perhaps they are, but they’re not inviting me. No, that can’t be it. I’m a worthwhile companion, suitable for parties or just conversation. But you knew that already.

Watched the Daily Show and the Colbert Report and of course they were funny. The R. Kelly Impersonator was the best bit I think. Jake Gyllenhall was also pretty funny. He seems like someone it would be fun to get jazzy with. I was recording My Name is Earl & 30 Rock at that time and watched The Office following Comedy Central. I know you know that the Office is really one of the funniest shows on TV right now. Actually the first two hours of prime time on Thursday nights for NBC really is an oasis of funny television.

It also opposite Ugly Betty which I really like. Didn’t get a chance to watch it on the computer yet. Faster speed at work and I’m hesitant to watch a herky jerky version of it. Actually I just tried to set the whole thing up but I need to install something and I fear that might take me away from you dear reader. Or is it deer reader? I have been getting some feedback from the antler set the past couple of when evers. They seem to be fans and were grateful that I did not publish the gruesome pic that Pedro sent me after hunting with his next door neighbor. I just hope they ate it.

Today was so so weather wise. I enjoyed sleeping past 6:00 though I did have to get out of bed to shut off the alarm on the cellphone. I set it so I wouldn’t forget it when I head off to work. I forgot to shut it off so that meant I stumbled out of bed, and somehow shut it off. Of course, my sleep was interrupted and having seen the sunlight I tried to fall asleep again with my head buried in the pillows and succeeded for about ninety minutes.

Chatted with Bill on the phone. He was worried that I was ill, having forgotten my taking an official day off. Poor guy has enough on his plate, even if I was sick I wouldn’t tell him. He did tell me about good old Elsie and Andy Capp. The latest shenanigans. When they’re not condemning Bill for being gay, they have no problem asking him for some moolah. Two parents in the house, one works (and I almost offered her a job where I work) and the other doesn’t work. A live at home dad, trying to get that elusive crooning career going despite being about 60 years too late. Dicks! The Pair of ’em!

Happy Birthday Brother Frank! Many more!

Your Mama Don’t Dance and Your Daddy Don’t Rock and Roll

Well it finally feels like summer I said to myself as I stood outside my office building having a smoke. It really felt like a beautiful summer day, on the cusp between the end of summer and the start of school. A few good looking men walking about, a few pretty women as well as the skinny types with legs as thin as my wrist, walking on too high heels. Half the office was out today, some working from home, others attending classes or waiting for Verizon technicians to show up. I’ve been instructed to keep a close eye on the attendance of some of my co-workers which puts me in an unenviable position of ratting someone out.

Yesterday I got a phone call from someone I didn’t expect to hear from again, yet oddly enough I thought we’d cross paths somewhere in Manhattan one of these days. It was a call from Gerri Delaney whom I worked with from 2001-2002. We worked the front desk together at Staffmark, a staffing agency on east 40th Street, in the same building as Marvel Comics as well as Jerry Seinfeld’s accountant. Gerri and I worked together during 9/11 and though I was let go from the company in July 2002, when the first anniversary came up I gave her a call to see how she was doing. Her reaction over the phone was, ‘why are you calling me?’. It was an odd call and it effectively killed our friendship which was distressing to me.

Bill couldn’t understand the fact that I make friends via work and usually keep them for a while. He doesn’t do that it seems. I explained that if it wasn’t for work I’d never have made such good lasting friends like Harpy and Pedro, as well as Julio, all of which I’ve been friends with for about 20 years.
So it seems Gerri found my number while cleaning out a drawer and just gave a call to see if it was still mine. She still lives with her husband Jimmy and their son Terry in Stuyvesant Town, a few buildings away from where Bill’s parents live. That would be one place I figured I’d cross paths with her, the rest would be somewhere in midtown. Sketchy plans were made for an after work drink, plans that could easily be forgotten or or perhaps even canceled.

I took off from work tomorrow, officially. Even set an out of office message on my emails which I just checked to see if was working properly and it is. Yet another job well done for me! I wandered through Bryant Park on my way home, witnessed the death of hip hop in the form of a white guy in his thirties with his baseball cap on just crookedly enough, baggy workout pants and an over sized hoodie. Got my attention but not my camera. Also saw some skinny thug poseur trying to look intimidating while rapping on the sidewalk. That was fun to watch, though it wasn’t his intention and also not worth taking the camera out of the bag.

Looking forward to not waking up at 6:00AM tomorrow morning. It’s the little things and in this case, the minutes, that count in life sometimes.

Here’s some pics.


Up the Down Staircase

Lunchtime Lay

“At last! I am TALLER!”

“Reporting for Fuji TV I’m Deborah RubberNeck…”

Cleared for take off

A short man

Sometimes ya just gotta squat

It was a bottle of orange juice and he was happy to see him

I almost wore the samething!


Makes No Sense At All

It’s Wednesday. Not many things happening. Woke up, would have rather slept in. That was the first thought in my head as my eyes opened to Gladys Night and the Pips singing about how they’ve got to use their imagination. Not a bad way to wake up but sleeping more would have been that much better. That wasn’t an option, especially since I told them in the office I was taking Friday off. I need a day off. The weekends have been flying by too fast and I need a little time off. I know I know, why should I get a day off. Well because I want it and I deserve it. It’s been busy for me at work the past week and I suppose it’s going to be like that for a while. Not that I mind.

I’ve been doing a lot of errands which I enjoy, just getting out of the office and bopping around midtown. It was a muggy day, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to not walk so fast. It seems I walk at such a pace that when I finally stop, thats when I start to sweat. And wearing a wool suit in muggy weather doesn’t really help. I look good, but oh how that internal combustion engine cools itself off by turning a white dress shirt into something that would look good next to a stripper pole. I’m sure I could make some money if only I’d apply myself.

I’ve noticed that if I go outside before having enough coffee to face the world, my word power is basically reduced to four letter words. Therefore it’s a smart thing to drink ample amounts of coffee before contact with the outside world. Last night I walked to the bus terminal and got on a long line that wasn’t going anywhere. I just couldn’t stay there on line so I left and walked to the Path train. But it wasn’t the long line that got me to leave, it was the woman behind me talking to her girlfriend about having the friend leave the kids with her mother so that the friend could go see ‘the show’. It’s a mess from what the woman behind me said, and that the new song that was added to the show was terrible.

That was enough to get me going. The Path ride was pleasant and no pregnant women hovering nearby. Today while leaving the apartment, there was another woman, walking precariously on heels that were too thin and too high, she had to walk leg in front of leg lest she fall flat on her face. Why do women wear such painful shoes? She was on her cellphone from let’s say the 624 building on my block way past the bus station. It’s good that she could walk and talk at the same time, but what could she possibly be talking about for so long and for so far? Not my business, I had a bus to catch.

And since I was running around doing errands the day flew by relatively fast. I had plans to meet Bill after work, he was working late and he had some money for me and I had some money for him. I walked past the Golden Staffing building only to find Sixth Avenue was closed to all traffic. Apparently a crane hit a building under construction, causing glass to fall injuring people. Who knew such a beautiful bird, a relative of the flamingo, could do some damage?

In case you are scratching your head and have drawn blood, it was a construction crane, not a flying bird crane. I often get the two confused. Anyhow, I walked around the block cutting through a parking garage and I finally met up with Bill who looked a bit weary and justifiably so. We chatted for a few before he ran back to his desk. Hard to believe I hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning.

Been looking at , looking at what celebrities gave to the democratic and republican parties. Prince is a republican? See for yourself.

G’oo G’oo G’Joob

Love Me or Hate Me

Well last night was ok. After I left work early to deliver Carla her last check, I walked over to Macy’s to check out some ties which were extraordinarily lackluster. Then I went to the men’s department and found the suits equally lackluster, though I did buy some rubber soled shoes for a good price. They are expecting rain and last week when it rained I kept slipping and sliding on the shiny sidewalks with no traction and figured that since rain is scheduled for this week it would be best to have some shoes that have some sort of traction.

The Path train home was enjoyable mainly because I had a seat. I was so engrossed in the Giuliani book that I didn’t notice a pregnant woman standing nearby until the train pulled into the Hoboken station. I am such a bad person. No I’m not. There were plenty of other people sitting that could have offered her a seat, but they didn’t and it is they, not I that is/are a bad person. I was ignorant of the situation. That’s my excuse that is actually legitimate for once. I picked up the Pattie Boyd book from the library, making it three books I am presently reading at this time and came home to settle in for some TV.

I watched Chuck while AIMing with Juan. He was telling me about his Halloween costume that he plans to wear while camping with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s friends. I watched Chuck which I’m liking more and more. It’s a good silly spy show with decent characters but it does end each episode with some dangling threads which hopefully be resolved soon enough. It’s also a good show to lead into Heroes which was the centerpiece of watching TV on a Monday night. Now that centerpiece would be Weeds.

Heroes was ok. Nothing special. No Peter, no Hiro, no Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich. Lot’s of the cheerleader, her dad, the new boyfriend which was ok. Somehow Sylar got out of the middle of the jungle from last week only to be found laying face down in a road by the two Central American newcomers. A major degree of bullshit. Also the mind reading bear cop is going to hit the road to look for his father who has been terrorizing the little girl’s dreams. That’s it. It was, lackluster, for lack of a better word.

I was all set to watch Weeds, when Bill called. I paused Weeds as Bill told me the latest. His mother was spending another night at St. Vincent’s hospital so that they could run some more tests. It turns out his mother is diabetic but has been managing it on her own without medication, until now. So these moments of spaciness more than likely could be because of that. After 20 minutes I stopped the pause of Weeds to hear what else Bill had to say. He told me his cousin Elsie had gone to the hospital and she and Bill walked home from there, through the village.

It turns out Bill got an earful from Elsie, about how Bill undermined the raising of their children. It turns out, last weekend when I had gone to the nursing home with Bill and his relatives to wish his father a happy birthday, Bill had said something that put Elsie and her husband Andy Capp’s noses out of joint. You see, when Bill and Elsie and her kids and I waited outside of Magnolia bakery for 40 minutes, one of the kids asked Bill about when Bill was going to marry a woman and have kids. Bill, much to his credit answered and said something about being with me and that a woman really wasn’t in his plan. That ended the subject right then and there, or so Bill thought.

Then as Elsie, Andy Capp and the kids returned home, the kids were asking questions about Bill. Is Bill gay? They didn’t know, the boys being 10 and 6 years old. Elsie and Andy decided to not tell them that their relative was a sinner, living in sin, a life of abomination. Yes I forgot to tell you as I forgot myself that Elsie and Andy are god fearing christians who can’t understand the ‘choice’ that Bill made in his life. If you met these people you’d think they were intelligent, until you see the only book on their shelf was one book written by many men many years ago.

Yes, that’s how they live their life in 21st century New York City. She harangued Bill somewhat and Bill wasn’t taking the bait. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about. Stupid christians. And what if one of their sons turns out gay? I told Bill that he should have asked Elsie about when Elsie made her choice to be straight. And what about Andy Capp’s glitter rock past? What about those photos of the boys dad in makeup and lipstick? Oh the price of heterosexuality.

These are the people that invited Bill to Thanksgiving dinner a few years ago, specifically not inviting me. Roda had us over for Thanksgiving dinner that year with his family. Now that’s what I would call Christian. Basically I don’t care if I ever see these relatives of Bill’s again. We had gone and supported Andy Capp’s lame ass performance at some cafe downtown a few years ago. For them support is a one way street, and sometimes that street leads to Bill’s wallet because someone doesn’t want to work, so they could follow their nonexistent singing career. And I was thinking about putting this wanker in touch with some people I know? Fuck that and his bald head.

One good thing that came out of Bill telling me that was that it does make me appreciate my family that much more, despite whatever hang ups they might have had regarding me and Bill, they accepted him with open arms, and when Bill and I had that falling out a couple of years ago, they forgave Bill as I had. And there were children involved. Elsie and Andy Capp wanted Bill to stay in the closet so they wouldn’t have to deal with telling their kids about reality. Bill decided not to.

Deal with it bitches.

Riding With Mary

Monday and not a moment too soon. Last night, came home a zombie and wrote last night’s blog. Bill and I spoke, he was taking his mom to see his dad across town at the Village Nursing Home. Nothing out of the ordinary, everything going nicely. I spoke on the phone with my sister Annemarie about our brother Brian, being Mr. Tight Lipped. I also told Annemarie that Brian’s old friend from the seventies, John Monetti was living up in Brian’s neck of the woods, helping Brian out with some odd jobs, here and there. John used to be quite the hottie when we were all growing up, beefy, swarthy, the right amount of testosterone which stirred something within me but I didn’t know what then. He now weighs 360 pounds and can’t wear a seat belt properly. Too bad, though I still have some photos somewhere of guys that vaguely remind me of John in his prime. Guys that I imagined incorrectly that John had grown into.

As I was talking to Annemarie, Bill phoned in. As he and his mother were leaving the nursing home, she complained about feeling ill, then she collapsed. Luckily they were in a nursing home and the staff were able to spring into action and dial 911. There was a lot of commotion so Bill got off the phone with me and dealt with his situation. I got back on the phone with Annemarie and told her what was going on. I figured they were going to take Bill’s mom to St. Vincent’s hospital since that was the closest hospital from the nursing home. I feel so bad for Bill, I wish there was something that I could do, but apparently just staying around, waiting by the phone and lending whatever support he might need.

I was fortunate when my father was fading away, I had my brothers at the front line which made sense since they were closer, both in regards to distance, and they got along with the old man a lot better than I did. My fortune was in the fact that they dealt with the issue at hand. Even Annemarie came in towards the end and handled the situation better than I could have. The guy thought I was incompetent and I generally became incompetent around him. I spent a good part of my life loathing my father.

Bill’s been handling his situation on his own and it’s certainly a terrifying experience and he’s doing the best that he can. His cousin lives nearby but she’s dealing with her mom who’s older than Bill’s mom, and she also has a husband that sometimes works, and two boys, 10 and 6 years old that are a handful, so she can only help Bill so much. So I sit by the phone and wait for Bill to call, to ask for help, or just needing an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. That’s why I’m here I guess.

Work was work. Nothing special. I was busy though, bank runs, office supplies and a visit to the post office where it was as crowded as it is during the holiday season. I left work early so I could drop off Carla the ex-receptionist’s check since it wasn’t signed on Friday when she was expecting it. It was the least I could do and it allowed me to leave work an hour earlier. That’s about it. Juan has a stalker. Spoke to him for the first time in weeks.

Pull Up To The Bumper

A beautiful autumn Sunday afternoon. Air is crisp in the 60 degree range. Warmer on the street than it is in the apartment. Everything pretty mellow after devouring a lot of meat at dinner with the soon to be (April 15th they’ve been told) parents, Julio and Stine. It really is a thrill to hear. Probably thrilling for them as well, as well as filled with anxiety and expectation, hence the term, she’s expecting I suppose. They got me good. I don’t know why a few friends of mine always have to surprise me with things, like Bill renting a Zip Car when we saw the B-52’s in Brooklyn last August, and now with Stine and Julio having a baby, they just can’t come out and say, ‘I rented a car’ or ‘We’re having a baby’. I’m not complaining, not at all. It’s an entertainment and it affords them the chance to get one over on me.

I watched Saturday Night Live last night, it was pretty good. Two music sets by Bon Jovi versus one by the Foo Fighters. I guess it’s all good. Not a Bon Jovi fan though I’ve met him and he’s alright, just another Jersey guy. He’s the cousin of my friend Barry Bongiovi and Jon stopped by Right Track studios to visit Barry (who I’ve always had a crush on).It was a good show and the digital SNL short was the highlight of the show once again. The Three Guys from New Jersey game show was pretty good and nearly spot on. From there it was trying to fall asleep next to Bill snoring as if sawing through granite. His words not mine.

I woke up and called Julio as I headed to that Bagel shop and asked if he and the missus wanted any bagels, which was a very slight payback for Julio and Stine taking me out for a belated birthday dinner. They did and I bought, dropping them off after a visit to the supermarket. Lynda, the older cashier who reminds Annemarie of our Nana, aka our grandmother made a motion for me to come to her register, needing to ask me a question. I walked over and she asked me what should she do about her cat who won’t eat canned food, only dry food. I didn’t know what to tell her except that if the cat’s female dry food is no problem, it’s spayed male cats that have a problem with dry food. I remembered that because my late cat Zed, (best cat in the whole wide world EVER) had the exact same problem back in the day.

Dropped off Stine and Julio’s bagels and headed up two flights where I had coffee and read the papers, full of usual nonsense and bad news. It was too nice a day to stay in and I was itching to go out, specifically to go to Farfetched and see Harpy who always works on Sundays. I walked to the Path train, past where the dog parade had occurred, gingerly stepping around several left behind clumps on the sidewalks.

Got off at Christopher Street since I didn’t want to deal with the crowds on 14th Street. Strolled past new buildings that weren’t there last time I had been around. Washington Square was crowded in various pockets, chess player and crap weed dealers over here, drum circle over there, dance troupe next to them across from Buzz Universe, a jam band going electric as people mingled around or sat and read their text books in the mid afternoon sun.

I made my way up Fourth Avenue to Farfetched to find Harpy not in session but Lois who switched off with Harpy yesterday. I picked out some cards for upcoming birthdays, though I have to say the selection has been a bit lacking lately. I used to find so many cards, now it’s a struggle to find 3 cards for me to send. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s them. It can’t be the customer is always right, since I work there on occasion so I’m not really a customer.

My being there allowed Lois to eat some lunch, so I rang up some customers for a little while, then after chit chatting I headed out, lighting a Padron and checking out the inhabitants of Union Square. I decided to walk up Broadway to Fifth Avenue then to 32nd street so I can finish my cigar and get a seat on the Path train home.

And now I am home, tired from walking around but feeling good.

Somehow I wound up taking 77 pictures while walking around the city, here are but a few of them.

Beautiful afternoon

Mrs. Pink Hair and friend enjoying a droll stroll

Lackawanna Tower in Hoboken

Bagpiper on Christopher Street

Fiddle, accordion, boy, girl dog butt

Two for the seesaw

Enn Why ewers

Hooded Literacy

Second Date

Foiled by a map (not to scale)

Cutie never calls…

Farfetched Halloween


From under the chimes

Christmas Ornaments

Madman by Union Square

For her, it’s all about his dreads

Coke dealer

Holding up the wall

Lost again

Looking for trouble



Looking out for number 9

Walk that way

Back in Hoboken
Court Street



The late, great Zed

Baby Let Your Hair Grow Long

It’s Saturday and a lot later than usual. Been an interesting day to say the least. Last night was pretty mellow. I napped after posting my blog in the middle of the afternoon, leaving me spent over the keyboard. Napped for about two hours. Felt fuzzy and hungry when I woke up and had a tuna sandwich which sort of hit the spot. Still peckish though and when Bill texted me on his way home from the city later in the evening he asked if I needed anything from the store and I replied, ‘I Scream’. He offered to get Edy’s but they don’t carry that on Washington Street, so he wound up get Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie which hit the spot for sure and left me satisfied for the rest of the night.

The rest of the night was filled with TV and Bill Maher. One was better than the other though I couldn’t exactly tell you what was what just that Paul Krugman from the New York Times, a good liberal voice was on as well as Joy Behar from the View and the eternally insufferable Tucker Carlson who I really want to punch in the throat. I find the Lady Carlson just so fucking smug, such a busy little know it all, the type that got their heads handed to them in high school and sometimes deservedly so. At least Tucker (so aptly named for tucking his nearly non existent genitals between his well powdered thighs) isn’t wearing those god damned bow ties that just screamed, ‘Beat the shit out of me.” After that it was some Scrubs and some Simpsons before I turned in, falling asleep next to Bill’s braying snoring somehow.

I had emailed Julio earlier in the week, asking if he was planning on going to Marty’s Shoe Outlet anytime soon, and also asked in a roundabout way if he could possibly help with a ceiling fan problem that I have in my kitchen as well as perhaps knowing something about changing a knob on the washing machine, also in the kitchen. He called back today in response to the email. No to Marty’s, not doable, at least not this weekend. As for the ceiling fan, he would have to see for himself he supposed, and for the knob on the ashing machine, why don’t I simply look up online to see whether or not replacement parts could be had somehow. I didn’t think of that actually. He was surprised at that since I can almost always be found where I am now, next to a computer looking things up. Good advice from Julio.

I did some laundry today, manipulating the spot where the knob was with a pair of pliers. Also took a blade off the ceiling fan since a screw had fallen from the fan leaving the whole thing inoperable. I walked to the hardware store and asked the guy for two screws that matched the one screw that I brought with me from the fan. I was in and out and it only cost me 27 cents. Of course putting the screws back in proved impossible for me, even after a few honest attempts. Gave up on that and figured I wouldn’t be using the fan anytime soon. Tried looking up online for some info regarding a knob for the washing machine. I didn’t have the serial number so I was up shit’s creek without a knob.

I wound up cleaning up the apartment somewhat, throwing out a printer that I haven’t used in years and also got a haircut from Mr. L’s on the corner, courtesy of Tony. It was late in the day, at least later than I usually get my haircuts on a Saturday. Julio called when I got back, he and Stine had been busy doing their thing, he working on apartments in West New York, she shopping in Edgewater and doing laundry at Julio’s mother’s house. He asked me how my chores had gone and I explained to a laughing Julio, who I sort of known, would come upstairs and do the job properly, correctly and a lot less time that I would have taken.

He fixed the fan in no time flat but couldn’t do anything for the washing machine knob. He did ask what I was doing for dinner and since I wasn’t doing anything I said I wasn’t doing anything. He invited me to join him and Stine at a Portuguese restaurant in Newark. It sounded good to me especially since I hadn’t seen either one of them in what seemed to be months. He left my apartment and I joined them about 20 minutes later after talking to brother Brian for a few minutes. Everything was hunky dory in Bergen County for Brian and his family, at least as much as he could have told me since everything else was to be kept within his immediate family.

I joined Julio and Stine and we were on the Road to Newark in no time. We sat in the restaurant and Julio and Stine told me this was on them as a belated birthday present. That was cool. I decided to order Prime Rib but the waiter decided that a T Bone steak would be better. I reluctantly agreed as Julio and I had Stella Artois and Stine had a cranberry juice, holding off on some wine until her entree. We ordered and sat and talked and ate our hickory smoked Portuguese sausage. After Julio and I finished our beers, Julio suggested wine or sangria for the entrees.

Sangria was fine and as the pitcher arrived, Stine made a toast, raising her glass to her lips she wished me a happy birthday, belated of course, and Julio chimed in, calling me Uncle Johnny. That took me back for a spell when I figured it out, Stine is with child. She didn’t drink the sangria, merely put it near her lips, to prolong the charade. Apparently I’m the first outside of their family to know.

I am so happy for them, I am thrilled. They’re going to be great parents and my head still spins at the thought that Julio, who I’ve known for 20 years is going to be a dad. I am really happy for the both of them.

Here’s some pics!



Flaming Sausage!

Stine and Julio

Turk…I mean Julio and Me

The parents to be

the child at 3 months

Jumping Someone Else’s Train

Jumping Someone’s Train

It’s Friday, a lazy kind of day. I’m home and it’s almost 3:30. Last night was good TV night, The Office was great and uncomfortable, watched the Daily Show and the Colbert Report and forgot about My Name is Earl and 30 Rock though I did record them, just haven’t watched them yet. I’ve taken to watching Ugly Betty online since it’s easier and the DVR gets all weird when you’re recording two shows at the same time, you can’t watch a third show. So Ugly Betty fell by the wayside, only to be watched the next day. With limited commercials. During the Office a commercial for Scrubs came on, apparently it will be the final season which makes sense. Also the character of Laverne who died last season, has a twin sister named Shirley so the actress, Aloma Wright has a job for another season. And it’s been said that when Janitor’s name is revealed, that will be the final episode. Ugly Betty was good, though some plot holes have some splainin’ to do. Like how did Betty’s dad get back to the States?

Slept really good last night, good to have Bill on his side of the bed, it provides a balance. Last night was a night of big rainstorms which helped on a good TV night. I keep missing Mad Men which brother Frank is enthusiastic about. I’m sure they’ll be a marathon sometime. Watch these sixties suits smoke and screw. That’s basically what it’s all about.

Work was busy today at least for me. Half the office out again, traveling or working from home. I knew that yesterday, since Greg Stevens told me he would be out and I knew that people were traveling since I made the travel arrangements. That allowed me to cut out early. Natalie the temp had to stay until 5:00 and I knew it was going to be slow but I knew she could handle it.

I finished whatever tasks I could do, there was other things that need to be taken care of on Monday when the office is fully staffed again. I decided to take the Path train back to Hoboken, didn’t want to deal with the Port Authority. Nice to sit in a nearly empty car riding through the tubes as they were once called. Where it was raining this morning, the afternoon was bright and sunny and breezy. I listened to In Rainbows by Radiohead again and I am liking it more and more. I wonder if their other stuff is just as good. Maybe I’m too late to get on the Radiohead bandwidth, but there’s no time like the present.

No real plans for the weekend, perhaps cleaning the apartment some more, definitely some laundry. I’m open to any plans that anyone might have, so send in your suggestions. Don’t worry I won’t be holding my breath. I might even get some bagels and the newspapers for auld lang syne. Just to see what you might have to say about that.

4:15PM! HBJ Time! Almost 4:20!

Here’s some pics.
West Indian Tony

Flora (Ripping off Mapplethorpe)


Crying, Waiting, Hoping

Well I’m in a better mood than I was yesterday so you can all rest easier. Not a bad mood, despite the fact that Carla is now the ex-receptionist. She’s moved into her field of fashion and I salute her for following her dream. No one figured out that I was incompetent and that was a relief. I was pretty busy anyhow and that made me look competent at least. I did have a license to have a bad day, what with Bill’s alarm clock going off at 5:00 this morning and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off, so many buttons. I thought about smashing it on the floor but it’s his alarm clock and that wouldn’t be right now would it? I eventually figured it out, one of those buttons did the trick and I tried going back to my dream of looking at George Clooney’s medical records, but all I got was looking at the back of 30 medical personnel headed out the door. An hour later I got out of bed and did my thing.

Last night I watched Pushing Daisies which Carla recommended and it was pretty good. Good storyline, and funny narration. Some guy has the power to reanimate the dead with just a touch. If they stay alive for more than a minute, someone else will have to die. He reanimated his childhood girlfriend, who he hadn’t seen since he was nine. She likes him, he likes her, but they can’t touch. You see, if he touches someone he’s reanimated they die again. Last night they were tracking a murder inside a car company. It’s worth seeing. I think if you like Ugly Betty and I do, you will probably like Pushing Daisies. I’d like to see that as a blurb somewhere.

The other night, Tuesday I started watching Scoop. I originally thought it was a movie starring Jada Pinckett Smith, but it was a Woody Allen movie, with Scarlett Johannson and Hugh Jackman with Ian McShane. I could not get into it and found the whole thing really annoying. Scarlett was good, but Woody? Ugh, so annoying. He’s now such a grouchy old man doing tired jokes that were funny thirty years ago, now, not so funny. I used to love Woody Allen, saw a few of his films with Annemarie. It just wasn’t as funny as his early funny films. Those seemed effortlessly funny, now it seems as if he’s trying to find his footing. Maybe if Jada Pinckett Smith were in it, then it would be funny. But then again she is black and this is a Woody Allen movie after all.

I downloaded the new Radiohead cd, In Rainbows. I’m not a Radiohead fan, but I don’t hate them. Guess I never really heard enough of them to actually know what they sound like. I do know that Mojo and Uncut Magazines love them so that’s a plus. And a few friends dig them too so there’s another plus. But the thing that got me was the new cd, you can download it and pay whatever you would like, or pay nothing at all. I paid 2.50 and the service charge upped it to 2.95, still reasonable and it’s actually pretty good and easily loaded into my iPod.

Cut n’paste

The other day, riding back on the Path train, after wishing Bill’s dad Feliz Compleanos, I walked over to Christopher Street to catch the Path train. As the doors were about to close, a twink, or a newbie got on the train, fresh from a tattoo parlor. He got one of those unique tribal tattoos, the kind that all the gay guys have, it’s that unique. You can tell it was a new tattoo since it was still under saran wrap, shiny from whatever ointment they use, and a bit bloody. A few other guys on the train, just smirked at this guy. He was trying so hard to be cool, to be hard. It didn’t work. No tattoos for me, no thanks. I’m hard enough and cool enough.

I read a blog in about how the writer was gay bashed outside of Splash Bar on 17th street in the city. It’s truly a fucked up story.

Cut and paste:

NYC 21st century.


Welcome to my bad mood. Yes it’s Wednesday, not that you would care. I don’t know why I’m in a bad mood. It could have something to do with the idiots and crazy people that ride the 126 bus back from Manhattan at the end of the day. Including the cat lady who rode the bus with her cat’s head sticking out of the bag. It could be that I had to sit in the cramped last seat with my knees flush against the seat before me, enabling me to feel every fucking pothole on the ride back And when I maneuvered to move from crampville to an empty seat, cat lady suddenly moved from her ample seat (where I usually sit) to a smaller spot.

It could be the fact that Vivek, dear Vivek never said anything yesterday about his trip today. Today he mentioned it though, saying that he wouldn’t be able to go to Orlando at 2:30 this afternoon and he wouldn’t be able to stay there until Friday. Of course it’s easy to change an itinerary on the day of the trip, much less an hour before you’re supposed to depart. Actually it was easy to do. I used and they were able to refund the money. But it was the running back and forth from my desk trying to track down Vivek to ask him if this trip was alright, or would a stop in Atlanta be a problem. The main difficulty was trying to find him.

It could also be that today was Carla the receptionist’s last day and I’m going to miss her a lot. She’s good people and I’ve come to really rely on her quite a bit. Initially I was thinking that it would be more work for me which I didn’t mind since finding things to do in the office has been getting harder. But as her leaving became reality I thought, ‘what of they find out I’m an idiot?’ Yes that old bugaboo popped up today, that old crippler, self doubt.

I tool Carla out to lunch today and that was a chore, not anything that Carla did, just that we were trying to coordinate our schedules so that Natalie, who will be filling in for Carla, could go to lunch. That difficulty was from dealing with expedia over the phone and trying to get Vivek pinned down to an acceptable departure time. We had a good lunch eventually, winding up at O’Neills, an Irish pub a few blocks away from the office where I had a burger and a pint of Guinness and Carla had a mushroom burger with a pint of Budweiser. Ew.

Or my bad mood could be attributed to the fact that I simply woke up this morning and as it was a lot cooler, cool enough to wear a suit, it got muggy again this afternoon and my white shirt seemed transparent on my walk across town to the bus terminal.

Or it could be the war and the bulletins I get from Media Matters about the repubicans and Fuck Snooze. It’s overwhelming sometimes and it gets my Irish up.

In any event, I am home now in Hoboken, and I don’t plan on seeing anyone until tomorrow which is best for all concerned. I did get a box of cigars from Billie in DC and that was very nice.

Here’s an autumnal photo

Give Peace A Chance

Well the temperature dropped but it rained. It’s true be careful what you wish for. That’s why I always wish for $99,999,999 dollars. Nice number and if I get it, you can bet that I would handle that money like no one’s business. I think I’d have Julio be my money manager. I trust him and he’s good with his own money, why wouldn’t he be good with mine? Anyway with the temperature dropping, I found myself under dressed. Not a good day for culottes I tell you. And don’t even get me started on the high beams.

A pair of dopplegangers today. Saw a Nick Lattanzio type that no one would know except for me, and a bald Johnny Carson look alike. Johnny Carson is dead, that much we know, and last I heard Nick Lattanzio was living in Clifton NJ with his wife, Bonita. And that was twenty years ago. I can’t imagine that Nick would be a delivery man in midtown Manhattan. Nick’s family and my family were friendly for a spell in the sixties/seventies, then everyone drifted apart. I met up with Nick Lattanzio when I started working for the book company in 1978. Nick and I started the same day and worked in the same department. He was a cutie, and I think he knew it. But still I wish him well. Twenty years. Yikes!

Occasionally when I ride an elevator or on a corner, waiting for a light to change, if I find myself with three or four other people, I think about what the band photo would look like. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but mostly I wind up being the coolest person in the group.

From what Carla the soon to be ex-receptionist tells me, the Arcade Fire/LCD Soundsystem show on Saturday was great. She was there for the whole show from start to finish. She is 24 after all. Arcade Fire made an announcement that they won’t be in New York City for a few years, having been here quite often the past couple of years.

It looks like I’ll be back in a suit and tie tomorrow, which makes me happy. It finally feels like Rocktober.

Some people say cigars smell bad, I say tiparilllos smell worse. Ugh.

Five Years, Soul Love, and Rock and Roll Suicide have been playing on endless loop in my head.

Vivek asks me to book a flight to Orlando tomorrow from La Guardia. Three people, Vivek included. I find a decent price, get them all aisle seats and book the flight after working out the departure time. I deliver the info and the itineraries, only to hear Vivek stammer about how he might not be able to go. He should have told me beforehand, maybe when he asked me to book a flight for him perhaps? He’s taking care of it himself or so he says. I was willing to do it since I knew all the info, I did submit it initially after all. Someone might be eating $459.00 and it ain’t going to be me.

I walked across town in between raindrops and got online at the terminal for the bus. After finally boarding the bus, standing room only, as the bus leaves the gate the rear view mirror hits something leaving it hanging there. The bus driver, rolls forward and gets out trying to align the darn thing again. It didn’t really take as she drove carefully, hoping no one would come creeping up on the right side. As we left the Lincoln Tunnel, it was good bye mirror. People wound up looking out the window yelling instructions to the bus driver as she navigated Willow Avenue which is a bit narrow.

I don’t know karate, but I know Ka-razy!

Here’s a pic of a hot guy standing near me at lunch.

Happy birthday Dr. Winston O’Boogie.

Savoy Truffle

From today’s notebook.
Hot Monday in October. I sit in 80 plus degrees of mugginess, in the shade across from the building where I work. It’s Columbus Day and a lot of people have off, but not me. Plenty of people still have to work but I would say the amount has been halved. Feeling a touch melancholy since Carla is leaving in a few days. The city, or at least the workers are few and far between. I could use a day off.

I could also use some cooler weather so I could go back to wearing a suit and tie which would make dressing in the morning a little bit easier and if it were cooler I wouldn’t be sweating as much as I do.

I bought Gold Bond Medicated powder and applied it liberally after showering this morning. Then I sat bare chested drinking my coffee and eating cereal. I was wearing pants and sweating and after I put on a shirt and headed out the door I checked myself only to find the sweat and the powder mixed, making a paste that was directly on my crotch. A nice smelling white powdery spot right where everyone would notice. Quick change of pants, but the pants were shortish, not too short, just enough to pass for regulation on how high your pants should be and enough to make me very self conscious throughout the day.

I asked Bill if his cousin Elise was working since she’d been unemployed for a while and I was thinking that maybe she would do reception and replace Carla as my assistant on a temporary basis, but it turned out she is working for the Daily News.

I’m presently reading the Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie which is good and I find myself writing like Sherman Alexie which you really can’t tell from this but you should see the notebook. Also reading the New Yorker naturally, as well as Grand Illusion by Wayne Barrett and Dan Collins. Thats about Rudy Guiliani and the mess of 9/11 and how Rudy has been capitalizing on it and his failures that are overlooked in the midst of the platitudes raining upon der fuhrer.

Thinking about playing touch football on Gunther Avenue with Scott Williams, David Plauchino and George Moncho back in the day. Tuesday Afternoon by the Moody Blues floats through my head.

After work tonight was more drinks with Carla at a rooftop lounge in midtown. Good if you want to smoke, but it was muggy as all hell. Tonight we were joined by Larry, Moe and Curly who I sort of put down a while ago, but tonight they were good company. Usual disparagement about how the partners aren’t doing what they should be doing, and leaving the work for the associates who depend on the partners to do their job. Four Heinekens and that was it for me. We parted ways and I walked across town in the humidity back to the swamplands of Hoboken.

For the hungry surrealist

The view from the rooftop lounge


Yer Blues

Sunday night. Yesterday was spent indoors mainly due the hangover and the heat. Last night’s blog was very easy to write. I guess my inner filters were in disrepair so it all came out basically in one piece, as is. I didn’t mind staying in yesterday, there wasn’t really anything to do and no one to do it with so staying home was fine by me. Bill came home in the afternoon and slept for a few hours so that afforded me a few more moments of alone time. And I spent most of the day riffing on some jazz compositions I had laying around the apartment.

Bill woke up and watched Knocked Up, which was pretty good, though not as good as the 40 Year Old Virgin and from what I’ve heard not as good as Super Bad, which isn’t out yet. Seth Rogen was cute and cuddly and would make a great bear, though not in this part. There were a few interruptions due to Bill needing to make some phone calls to set his plans for today, so the timing was stretched to two and a half hours which made an easy transition to watching Seth Rogen hosting Saturday Night Live.

Saturday Night Live was pretty good, not as good as the week before but still a few laughs. Spoon was very good too. I have one of their tracks from a few years ago, and I liked it enough to put on my iPod but never got around to buying anything else from them. Last night was a pretty good example on why I should. Also glad I didn’t go see Arcade Fire and LCD Soundsystem on Randall’s Island. I’m sure that was good but too much for the viejo I seem to be becoming. I did check youtube first thing this morning to see if anyone posted any videos from the show last night, and I have to say only three people posted by 9:00 this morning.

As Bill was leaving for church he mentioned something about calling me this afternoon so that I could join him and his family to visit Bill’s father in the Village Nursing Home on Hudson and 12th Streets. That was news to groggy old me, but I went along with it and went back to sleep as I heard the door closing behind Bill on his way to church.

I puttered along the muggy morning streets of Hoboken a little while after I woke up, getting my Sunday sundries. I was ok with the fact I didn’t know anyone on the streets and was able to make it home unmolested. Killed time watching the telly waiting for Bill to call. I thought about going out and hanging waiting for the call but it was too hot and I was sweating just sitting around the apartment. He called and I was on the Path train, for the first time in a few weeks.

I met up with Bill, and his mother, his aunt, his cousin, her husband and their kids. They were situated around the bed when I showed up. Soon it was crowded and Bill’s plan was to go outside to Abingdon Square across the street for some summer in October. Bill had another plan involving got to the Magnolia Bakery to get some cupcakes to celebrate his father’s birthday. That involved waiting on line for 40 minutes. That was ok though since it was a special occasion and with Bill and myself were Bill’s cousin and her two sons.

I helped pass the time by having a smoke across the street from the line and was able to snag a copy of Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules, a compilation edited by David Sedaris that I bought for my sister in August for her birthday. I got mine for 5.00. They were still on line and by the time they left the store, Bill’s parents and company went back to the home. I stayed for a little while, had a couple of cupcakes ad soon I made my good byes, it looked like Bill’s dad was really exhausted with all the people in his room.

I left and had a cigar, walking along the highway, deserted until I stumbled upon a leather fest on Weehawken Street. I just stood on the outside looking in until I finished my cigar and got to the Path train where a train was waiting to take me back to Hoboken.

Here’s a cool video, Yer Blues by the Dirty Mac.
John Lennon on Guitar, Keith Richards on Bass, Eric Clapton on guitar and Mitch Mitchell on Drums.

Me Gusta youtube!