Monthly Archives: May 2008


A very lazy Saturday. Did not sleep well last night, damn those Belgians and their beer. Stella Artois, how could you leave me in such a precarious state? I didn’t do much of anything today, in fact I did nothing at all and barely left the apartment. I was content, it’s quite humid out. Bill had his night off Broadway last night, in a one night performance of Pap Smear which I panned a few months ago.

It was a success. A full house, 250 seats at $35.00 a ticket. Yes there is an audience for broad comedy. Bill and I spoke about it and he was feeling a bit high after acting in front of so many people. He was also surprised at the sell out crowd, after coming from a small theater with 50 seats. I’m glad that it went well.

I watched Rufus Rufus Rufus Does Judy Judy Judy! A live concert from the London Palladium of Rufus Wainwright singing the entire live album of Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall. I originally wrote signing instead of singing which would have been an odd thing to watch, 2 hours of Rufus Wainwright performing in sign language. Sort of like watching a semaphore version of Wuthering Heights.

Now that I think of it, it sort of fell in line with what I watched on TV this morning, Hollywood Singing and Dancing: A Musical Treasure. Not what I usually watch on a Saturday morning but That’s So Raven was a repeat. It was a documentary shown during pledge time on Public Television, lot’s of cool clips including Fred Astaire dancing on the walls and ceiling in Royal Wedding. Even knowing how they shot that scene it still mind blowing.

So from watching Hollywood Musical classics featuring Judy Garland who was called the Queen of Hollywood Musicals, I saw Rufus, a current Queen sing Judy Garland’s songs, alongside his mother Kate McGarrigle, his sister Martha Wainwright and Judy Garland’s daughter Lorna Luft. Liza Minnelli was reportedly upset that Rufus was doing something that Liza had planned to do herself at some point. Rufus was entertaining as always though it’s really not my cup of tea, show tunes that is.

I got a call from the library today. Apparently I ordered a book by David Sheff, a writer for the New York Times. His book Beautiful Boy was in. It’s about his son’s addiction to methamphetamine. Don’t know why I ordered it, but after watching Rufus, a former crystal meth addict, I went to the library and picked it up. So far, so harrowing. Watching a Futurama marathon right now. Quite a silly show, highly enjoyable.

I plan to watch La Vie En Rose, starring Marion Cotillard who won the Oscar for her performance as Edith Piaf. Yet another messed up singer. Is there a pattern here? At this rate I’ll probably be playing Nico songs while watching a DVD of Marianne Faithfull. Thunderstorms this afternoon, leading to thunderstorms tonight. Such elemental drama.

Release the kites!

Here’s some pics from yesterday.
Hello Kitty installation around where I work

Andy and Chaz


and now this…

Small Electric Piece

A Friday night, unlike most Friday nights lately, yet similar to Friday nights from years ago. Just got back from seeing a free show at the South Street Seaport, with a band from my past headlining, Wire. Nowadays Wire is known as post punk, which is another name for New Wave, minus skinny ties I suppose. Still when people asked who is Wire, I generally say they are a punk band from England, class of 1977. It’s a catchphrase that fits the occasion.

I first heard of Wire in 1979 when brother Frank gave me a copy of their third album, 154. I liked it, but for almost a year I only played side one. It was good enough and I had little faith that they could top that one side. Of course eventually I played side two and found it to be as good as side one. I don;t know why I did that. Took me nearly a decade to play side two of Paul McCartney, Ram. Lazy? Remember this was the time when you would actually have to get up, walk over to the record player and flip the disc. I don’t think it was laziness, some strange aesthetics on my part.

I entertain the idea of me being partly responsible for Wire playing McSwells when they reunited. I recall being in the kitchen with Chaz at McSwells, counting out the door money and talking about Wire reforming and doing a tour. Steve Fallon was listening to us and I like to think we prodded him to get the band to do a show in Hoboken. Of course I could be miles off base, but I’m printing the legend. When given the choice to print the fact or the legend, go with the legend. I loved Wire, and got a few friends into them.

Very abstract and arty, and when I met them for an interview a bit standoffish. Bhikku said it best a few weeks ago, never meet your heroes. It was a let down, but I was trying to be hipper than most, and they seemed to see right through it. They weren’t mean or anything like that, and in hindsight, I probably played the role of gushing fan boy. They were good tonight though, not mind blowing and it would have been ok if I skipped it altogether.

But it was a chance to hang with Chaz and Andy and surprise guests, Susan Sher and Steve Saporito. I told Susan about the show a week or so ago in a brief email since she was something of a fan. She told Steve. They’re tight like that. Steve is now a successful movie producer, having had his film Squeezebox in the most recent Tribeca Film Festival. I have had antagonistic relationships with both Sue and Steve and I think I’ve matured. I congratulated Steve on Squeezebox which I meant sincerely when I told a mutual friend who told me about it.

Really, I told the friend to tell Steve I meant it sincerely, no cynicism or sarcasm attached. The friend took it as cynicism and sarcasm. I’ve known Steve for about 20 years, even fell in love with him for a few minutes back then. He didn’t feel the same hence the sarcasm and cynicism from my part. But time heals most wounds and I’ve moved on and so has he. I don’t love him like that anymore, and since it’s been a long time I’ve seen him it’s almost like meeting again for the first time, with a mutual history between us.

I know I’ve written about him previously so do a search for Saporito if you’re so inclined. Wire was ok, better than they were in the 1980’s. Back then they wouldn’t perform the songs that everyone knew, instead having a Wire cover band open up the shows playing the 5 year oldies so Wire could concentrate on their newer material which in hindsight wasn’t up to snuff. Now they mix some oldies in with the new stuff which is good for the older set like Chaz, Andy Susan, Steve and myself.

We rattled our walkers along to Being Sucked In Again and 12XU. A funny thing, my hand always had a beer in it, much like last weekend. Who was buying I couldn’t tell yet gave gratitude each time. I couldn’t help but feel that as good as Wire was, maybe it would have been better if they stayed broken up. Bands like Wire and Gang of Four on these reunion tours for me turn into catching up with friends I haven’t seen in years, yelling to each other about what we’re up to lately.

Twenty years ago the bad would be the focus, now it’s ‘so whats going on with you?’ or ‘have you heard from so and so?’. I guess that’s the nature of the beast. 3 years ago, Gang of Four reunited and played Irving Plaza, I hung out in the back talking shit with an old friend that I hadn’t seen in sometime. We never caught up before the show and never did after the show. It was during the show, yelling, drinking and partying that we caught up, just don’t ask me what was said. Same thing tonight.

I have no idea what Susan is up to, and my relationship with her is even more antagonistic than my relationship with Steve. Steve I know is going to Los Angeles next week. I really do wish him well.

Cookie Puss

Well last night was basically like other nights, but still I write. I took bhikku’s advice and watched American Hardcore and it was better than I expected. There were so many bands from that scene that I had forgotten about. I also forgot that one of the main causes of the hardcore scene was the administration of the Reagan presidency.

It was bad then, but it’s worse now. Where’s the underground response? Where would hardcore be without Ronnie? He was the poster child for most hardcore fliers and adverts. It was a very good documentary, interviews with Keith Morris from Circle Jerks, HR from Bad Brains, Henry Rollins. I forgot about Die Krauzen, I believe they played McSwells at some point. It was a national thing with our Canadian cousins represented by DOA.

As vital as the hardcore scene was, it did eventually succumb to the LCD mentality. One of the talking head was a former roadie for a Boston band called Slapshot. He’s now a Unitarian minister, Reverend Hank Peirce, nee straight edge Hank. He was totally straight edge, and still is apparently. I was straight edge for a few minutes, in the sense of not drinking or doing drugs. Then I started drinking and doing drugs.

Ian MacKaye from Minor Threat was on also, the leader of the straight edge movement, totally earnest with the DIY attitude. I doubt if there are many bands so dedicated to their craft as he was and still is. Don’t know if Fugazi is still operating, but they had the policy of never charging more than $5.00 to their shows. I also found Phil Anselmo has quite a sexy voice. Man he sounded hot. Too bad he was a junkie in Pantera, which isn’t or wasn’t hardcore.

Not much on the Dead Kennedys or Husker Du. They got a mention but no one from those bands were talking, neither were the Beastie Boys who as many people have forgotten, started out as a hardcore band. Henry Rollins, good guy, had some very good things to say, telling his story about leaving a $3.50 an hour job in DC to move to LA and join Black Flag.

Bill came home towards the end and was tired and perplexed by the sounds coming out of the TV. Bunch of white kids jumping off the stage onto each other in the audience, ‘what the fuck’ he must have thought. Luckily, the songs played barely lasted more than a minute and you couldn’t really understand, hence my having the subtitles on. Almost forgot, Brandon Cruz was on. He was in a hardcore band, in fact he replaced Jello Biafra in the Dead Kennedys.

The group I hung out with back in my wild and wooly days gravitated to hardcore, I moved in a different direction. They were listening to the Germs, I was listening to Talking Heads and Run DMC. Eventually we parted ways.

Oh and Moby sang with Flipper for a show or two at some point though the guys in Flipper don’t remember. Oh that Moby. Grrr! And Mike Watt, great guy, he should run for President. No, wait, he’s too cool for that. He’s great and it was good to see him in the video. Everybody loves Mike Watt. I know I do. I heart Mike Watt. Where is today’s hardcore, railing against the system? What? Do I have to do it?

Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about any of the above, like you needed me to tell you that.

You Gave Me The Answer

It’s Wednesday and since most have had Monday it feels like Tuesday. Crazy and confusing. Last night watched Scrubs, and then Keith Olbermann where I was properly outraged by the bullshit that goes on in the political world today. I suppose I could write about politics here, but you can go to many blogs about that sort of thing. There has to be a red flag to get me fired up and write about it here. And the personal is political isn’t it? Well?

After Keith Olbermann I had nothing to watch. I do have the DVD of Lars and the Real Girl and a documentary on American Hardcore, called oddly enough, American Hardcore. I don’t know why I rented it. I wasn’t into hardcore. In fact when hardcore came on the scene, I moved into rap and hip hop, finding that more agreeable than a mosh pit.

I did see some hardcore bands, Black Flag, Bad Brains, Murphy’s Law to name a few. I remember Flipper destroying the stage at McSwells if that counts. I guess Husker Du were hardcore, maybe even the Minutemen too. I don’t think the Butthole Surfers were and I saw them quite a few times in the lysergic tinged eighties. I guess I’m waiting for the right time to watch it. But when will that time come? It didn’t come last night.

I started watching a movie starring Gwyneth Paltrow, called Sliding Doors. It seemed somewhat interesting, at least the first 28 minutes did. Bill came home then and however slow the movie was before then, it crept considerably after that.

I turned on Lawn Hor d’oeuvre SVU instead. Of course it was a repeat and it was followed by another episode. Too much Lawn Hor d’oeuvre for the night, left me full. Bill was in bed after I watched the news and soon I was asleep next to him, fighting for the sheets.

Didn’t sleep too restfully, window was open and a strong wind blew everything off the windowsill midway through the night, crashing onto the floor which woke me up, Bill of course slept all through it. He was up and out as I lay there cursing my alarm clock.

Eventually I got out of bed, dragging my ass, thinking about calling in sick, which I wasn’t yet still the idea pops into my head at least once a week. But with no Linda around I had to go in.

I was only 20 minutes late and still no one was in yet. Started up the office, did whatever it is that I do. Made room for new people renting space in mid June, ordered supplies, things like that. Greg Stevens told me that we were not going to hire a receptionist.

Apparently he hadn’t spoken to Vivek about hiring a receptionist. So that’s still up in the air. I think we are going to need one, and as the new people move in, we more than likely will.

Vivek needs to talk to his friend about it, since his friend would be mainly paying for it, or at least splitting the cost. I was able to chat with Juan about it, he still wants the gig and hopefully it will be there for him. That’s about it.

Home again, chillin’ out. What are you doing?

Outdoor Miner

Last night was very cool, very quiet. Thought I’d get a call from Julio, inviting me down for a drink, we were talking about Gin and Tonics but he never called so there was no alcohol to be had. Not bad, I had enough the previous days. Bill mad it home again last night, midway through my watching of Recount, an HBO movie about the 200 election and how Florida screwed up their voting system. I remembered some of the events that occurred, Bill didn’t.

I also watched a documentary last year about the election scandal, and that’s what it was, a scandal. I didn’t realize that all these republican congressional aides were flown down to Florida to disrupt and slow down the recount making the election officials miss the deadline. Laura Dern was great as Katherine Harris, a woman with a sieve for a brain and a colander for a hat.

Laura’s looking a lot like her mother Diane Ladd I think, but we love Laura Dern ever since Blue Velvet and she also gets points for marrying Ben Harper who seems like a cool dude though I’ve only seen him on TV, not owning any of his music. From what I got from the movie, if the Democrats perhaps pushed harder and earlier there might have been a different outcome.

I have doubts that we would be in an endless war in Iraq, and if the 9/11 attack occurred on Gore’s watch perhaps Bin Laden’s family wouldn’t have been flown out when every other plane was grounded in the US and we might have had stupid jerk face neck bone in custody. Bin Laden, not Bush. His time will come though. Went to bed after that and woke up 6 hours later with Bill kissing me good bye. I made it to work in some on again off again drizzle.

Came into the office (which I visited to get some ice water while waiting for a train to take me to see Miriam and family) and it was a mess. One of the friends of Vivek had a meeting and left all the leftover food and wrappers all over the place as well as empty bottles and cans of soda. It pissed me off but then I realized I get paid for this and it’s a nice paying job to do it. It only took about 10 minutes to clean up and then it was done.

I knew that since I am out of the office at various points in the day running errands, they werre going to realize that they need a front desk person. I didn’t push the idea since it was shot down, I decided to let them find out for themselves.

I did talk to Vivek about the mess later on and he spoke to his friend about it and then Vivek came back to me saying that we should get a receptionist to replace Linda who left last week. He inquired about my friend’s son coming in. The friend’s son is Juan. For some reason I thought it would be better if i introduced the concept of Juan as a friend’s son rather than some guy I get jazzy with from time to time.

Unfortunately Juan is incommunicado since he still doesn’t have a cellphone and his internet at home is non existent. So on the off chance that Juan sees this I implore him to get in touch with me as soon as possible, if he wants a good job for the summer. It beats working at Applebee’s, don’t you think?

Ultraviolet (light my way)

♫ Harpy Birthday to Happy 56 years! ♪

Well the holiday weekend, it’s winding down. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I posted this morning and post dated it for last night. Over 1200 words which is more than enough, what with the original plan to write at least 500 words a day, so that makes this gravy. Last night I was too much of a vegetable to actually sit down and write more than an excuse as to why I wasn’t writing.

Slept very well with Bill ably playing the role of snoring lump in the bed. Still it was an agreeable enough sound to fall asleep to, but anything would have put me to sleep anyhow. Woke up this morning to the sound of my cellphone alarm at 6:45, set so I wouldn’t forget my cellphone when I left for work. But I was off today and didn’t need to remember the cellphone.

After setting the phone off, I had to reset it a few minutes later because in my sleepy state of mind I didn’t actually do that the first time. Bill was out to rehearse for his play, I slept in, finally getting out of bed at 9:00 in time to see the B-52’s finish a song. Yes I totally spaced on the B-52’s. I think Chaz went with his friend Andy. I thought about it and still wasn’t sure whether or not I would go until I woke up this morning and realized I wasn’t going. Forgot to record it on the DVR as well.

Still the website for the Today show has some clips, one of which is included below. More crowd shots than band shots, and no Chaz and Andy as far as I could tell. I decided to watch the rest of the show and then go out and get some bagels and the papers. Luckily for me, Julio called from the bagel shop. He decided to go himself since I hadn’t gone yet. He also had to buy some flowers for Stine since this is her birthday. That was cool.

He delivered a little while later and we had a brief chat in my doorway, looking past my shoulder to see how single life looked. It was messy. The B-52’s finished with an abbreviated Love Shack and yes they looked and sounded great, though I wondered what happened to former Raybeat Pat Irwin. Why isn’t he playing with them anymore? He’s a great guy, I met him once at Summerstage years ago and I hope he’s alright.

As the afternoon started I ran an errand to CVS where I saw Martin Kelly once again. Always good to see Martin, same amiable guy and always a fleeting moment with him. Watched Monty Python’s Life of Brian which was brilliant, still one of the funniest films around and still a face paced 94 minutes. Blessed are the cheese makers? I think he means all dairy products. Python is always good for a laugh from left field even 30 years later, or 40 years actually since they started the TV show in the late sixties.

Got a call from Julio. He and the wife and kid were out for the afternoon on Pier A, and why don’t I join them? Sounded good to me. An afternoon outside with Alexander, Stine and Julio sounded like a grand idea indeed. I wandered over, camera in pocket and bought a dozen roses for Stine’s birthday. Julio called me after the initial phone call to remind me it was Stine’s birthday and to wish her a happy one. I took it a step further.

It was a nice hour or so sitting on the grass under the trees, Alexander was fast asleep. No waking that peanut up. Still, he’s an angel as you could tell by the pictures. We walked along the waterfront, Stine allowed me to push the carriage which was great. It’s going to be even more fun when he’s older and I’ll really get to push him in his cart around. I’m picturing a scene from Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin.

The star of the show

The mom and dad

What the ant saw

Meanwhile, off shore

The peanut once again

And Julio and Stine

Rock Lobster

40 Versions

Written on the train: This stop is Mount Kisco. The next stop is Chappaqua. This is the train to Grand Central. I’ve just got on the train back to Manhattan after leaving my friend Miriam and her husband Joe’s barbecue. A very unsettling noise just occurred which was the sound of another very fast train, whistle blowing going in the opposite direction, the train shudders from the wind pressure flying past.

I had a very good time this afternoon. Lot’s of food and Miriam’s husband made sure I always had a can of Guinness in my hands. I don’t recall how many cans I had, it was a considerable amount but while eating constantly I didn’t get drunk per se. I do know I had 2 cigars while discussing politics with other guests at the table.

Now we’re in Chappaqua, home of the Clintons. Very pricey here in upper Westchester, obviously if Bill and Hillary live up here. It’s funny, Pedro lives in Otisville, two hours from Hoboken, but easier to get to since I just have to hop on a train from Hoboken. This trip to Yorktown Heights, near Sleepy Hollow is just under an hour, but I have to go to the city via bus to catch a train from Grand Central, then a winding cab ride from the train station to Miriam’s house.

Handsome conductor taking tickets. It would have been nice if Bill were able to join me on this excursion, but he’s rehearsing for a short run of the play Pap Smear, which I gave a disparaging review last year, which was found by the playwright who sent the link to the cast, including Bill. So I have strong doubts that I will be seeing the latest version of Pap Smear. Guy across the aisle from me on the train looks like a decrepit Burt Young, or rather a stand in for Burt Young. Not looking too well and a bit unsteady on his feet, handsome conductor is looking out for him.

So the barbecue was a lot of fun. Got to meet Miriam and Joe’s daughter Mareah. She’s a gem, and looks just like Miriam did as an infant, especially when shown a picture of Miriam as a baby. A carbon copy if I say so myself. To me she looked more like Miriam than Joe, but being 13 months old that could all change with time. I was sitting at a table where a political discussion was going on. We were democrats mainly, an independent here and there.

No republicans though Westchester is a republican strong hold. Some for Obama, some for Clinton some undecided. It was rather passionate for me, fueled by Guinness and Padron cigars. I was being forthright, and the others seemed to be jockeying for my attention. Whenever someone had something to say it was me they looked to.

For me it was like a press conference where I would pick the next person to say something, or getting them to wait while someone else finished whatever it was they had to say. I had to juggle, listening and signaling to the others to wait their turns. No fisticuffs occurred and the discussion wound down as the sun went down.

This station is Valhalla. I’ve got relatives buried up here somewhere in this land of Vikings.

I’ve known Miriam for about 15 years. We first worked together at Skyline Studios in midtown where I was the receptionist and Miriam was an assistant engineer. She worked with Siouxsie, John Cale, Tupac, Puff Daddy, though not all at the same time.

We were an odd pair Miriam and I. We fought a few times, sometimes so pissed off at each other that we wouldn’t talk to each other for weeks on end which made for a tense work environment. One time she threw a portable Sony tape recorder at me after I antagonized her when she left a meeting about her attitude.

Out of all the people we worked with at Skyline, we’re the only one’s who have kept in touch with each other. Tried contacting some others from then but they’re unavailable despite some searches online. Miriam later got me a job at Arista after Skyline closed. I worked on Patti Smith and Whitney Houston albums, though they weren’t recording together. That would have been something though. Probably unlistenable but still…

It lasted a few months and t was then I realized, my dream of working for a record company wasn’t that good a dream after all. Perhaps Steve Fallon was right when he told me I was born 10 years too late. White Plains, White Plains next stop. From here it is express to Harlem 125th street. 4 gelled up good looking guys get on with a chick, looking like background from Growing Up Gotti.

The guys all with trace beards and spiky hair and tight t shirts with stenciled words on them like, ‘destroyer’ or ‘electric’ written on them. They had a case of Coors Light that they were guzzling before they got to Grand Central. One of them was USDA Prime Beef who was difficult not to stare at.

A harmless group though they used the words faggot and fag a bit much, not in a sexual way but to describe a former friend of theirs that they wouldn’t have anything to do with anymore. They were taking digital photos of each other and I offered to take a picture of the 5 of them. They appreciated it and gave their best tough guy looks, thanking me profusely and treating me with respect afforded to someone who was old enough to be their father.

They were off to the clubs, trying to talk the girl with them into going to a strip club to look at tits. She definitely didn’t want to go since she looks at tits all day long she said. For me this trip reminded me of going to visit co-workers of my father when I was growing up. A trip to Staten Island was exotic for 5 year old me back then, visiting the peculiarly named John Small, or people named Phil and Lucianne somewhere out in the wilds of New Jersey. Just names from the past.

So now I’m doing the same thing with people named Pedro or Miriam and instead of running around like a 5 year old, I’m sitting at the table smoking cigars and drinking with the rest of the grown ups.

Now the train is running express, the kids next to me offered me a Coors but I refused explaining that I’ve been drinking all day. That was something they couldn’t understand, if I was drinking all day, why stop now? Got to Grand Central around 10:35, bus from bus terminal is 11:00 and I had to pee. After that I was on the street at 10:40, and talked with Bill to find out when the next bus would be leaving.

I wasn’t going to make it to the 11:00 bus and the one after that was at midnight. Hanging around the bus terminal late at night is a slow painful way to pass the time so I decided to take the Path. Walked over there, got through the turnstile when the train doors closed. I ran up in time to slip in when they opened again, finding myself in the middle of a jam band headed home after playing outside somewhere.

Too tired to write this all last night so here it is now. And here are some snaps of the barbecue.

Joe and Mareah

Miriam and Mareah

Mareah herself

Mareah and me

The Mazzerella family

Me and the girls

Black Cow

A day of pathos or dedication? I haven’t figured it out yet, but leaning towards dedication. It started out with a phone call from Pedro. He was fleeing Otisville, couldn’t deal with his girlfriend Connie’s inaction. Actually it started as it usually does on a Saturday, sleeping later than usual. I got my act together around 9:00, headed out for bagels and newspapers asking Julio if he and Stine wanted bagels, which they did. Got to the bagel shop and dealt with the guy I can’t stand, everyone else was busy. Got the newspapers, headed to the supermarket to get what I needed to get.

It is the unofficial start of summer so most of the Hobokenites made their way to their beach houses though it was a bit too cool to go to the beach, still nice to get out of the mile square city. Parking aplenty and no one in the market. Came back home, saw Alexander who is now a month and one day old. He’s a charmer, a diamond, a little boy, still an infant.

Alexander is able to focus if you’re a foot directly in front of his line of vision, and I did my best to get in that line of vision. He’s adorable and I regretted not having a camera to take some more snaps of his lovely self. They were getting ready to go to a brunch so I didn’t stay much longer than I needed.

Came home, had breakfast, coffee and read the papers. Started the laundry when I got Pedro’s call. Sounded like a good time and I could never resist a call from Pedro, asking me to hang out with him. I told him after the laundry I’d meet up with him in Manhattan. He had the idea of going to the Third Avenue Street festival.

For some reason I thought it would be in midtown around where I work. It wasn’t… it was downtown. I made arrangements to meet him at Farfetched where I bought a baby shirt for Miriam’s baby Mareah who I will meet tomorrow.

Susan was as charming as usual, running the show solo since Harpy was ill and didn’t make it in, she was extra sweet. Pedro met me there, and found that he was hot for Susan while I bought a shirt designed ala Google, but said instead Goo Goo. We then wandered over to the street fair and merely walked through. Pedro wanted a margarita so we wound up at BBQ on 2nd Avenue and St Marks Place.

The first one with an accompanying shot of cheap tequila went down with little difficulty, as did the second one which I thought would be the last. It was the third one that proved to be the last since I basically lost contact with planet Earth, sitting in the bright sun and not doing well.

Until Pedro showed me a camera photo of himself, fully nude. That actually brought me back to Earth fast enough, really. It wasn’t the first time I saw his cock. The first time was about 20 years ago when he showed me a Polaroid of him getting a blow job from a former girlfriend. I asked him to send the cellphone snapshot to me, but he refused, probably knowing that it would wind up here online. It really did sober me up though. After that Pedro wanted to go to the Pleasure Chest to get some toys. For whom, I didn’t ask.

He confessed to me that I was his best friend which was awfully nice, and I feel the same way. I’ve known him for over 20 years, my Superman. The Turk to my JD. Superman dropped me off a block away from the bus terminal and here I am now,at home, no worse for wear and glad to be home. A light supper helped the both of us, bringing us back to terra firma. A return to Otisville is in the works once he gets back to having a weekend off from fighting with crooks at Rikers Island. That’s it. Hope Harpy feels better.

Here’s some snaps.

Hoboken Afternoon sky

First of three

The start of slowly losing it

The man with the toys

and again

the last thing some crooks see before passing out

what it’s all about

old pic (why does he send me these pics?)

Hoboken evening

Too Much To Think About

Finally Friday arrives in all it’s glory. A bit cool outside as compared to previous Memorial Day weekends. Well at least as much as I can remember. Last night was last night, 4 pints of Guinness and I was done. A pleasant buzz definitely and a strong urge to have a cigarette, but I resisted. Alcohol and smoking seem to go hand in hand, and by seem, I mean that they belong together, at least in my squared circle.

Bill came home again last night, 4 nights in a row which was something he hadn’t done in a while since his father passed away. He came in midway through my watching a Classic Albums DVD of John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. They usually show them on VH1 Classics, but this just came out and I thought it would be worthwhile to give it a go. It was interesting, entertaining and informative. Interviews with Dr. Arthur Janov, Jann Wenner, Klaus Voorman, Yoko and Ringo among others. Some video unseen by me before.

I enjoyed it, though I haven’t played Plastic Ono Band in a while. Just not necessarily the feel good-let’s dance record that one would play on a Friday night. I mean, if I heard someone playing it before going out on a weekend I’d be concerned. They had various engineers and studio people playing back tapes from the original sessions and it was cool to hear John Lennon’s voice unaccompanied. I explained to Bill that Lennon wasn’t too keen on the sound of his voice which is why it double tracked or touched by effects on most of his recordings.

Also gave Bill some back story on Lennon’s growing up without his parents, being raised by an Aunt, and having his mother killed by a drunken policeman driving a car just when John was reconnecting with his mother. Or so the story goes. Who really knows? All the players in the story are dead, John, his mother Julia and his Aunt Mimi. They also had a brief snippet, rather than a full snippet of Yoko’s accompanying record, Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band which sounded like late 1970’s post punk which is what thrilled John after not recording for five years and sort of fired him up to start recording again.

I remember the hype surrounding John Lennon’s return. I’m sure there were a number of people like me who figured, John Lennon living in New York City, lot’s of interesting, cutting edge records coming out every week, he’s going to sound so fresh and exciting. The thing was it wasn’t really. I mean, Double Fantasy was ok, but it didn’t live up to my hopes, and why should it though? It’s his statement about life at 40, which looking back 5 years later at 40 makes me realize he was in a good spot after all. Me, being 18 in 1980 wanted some thrash and roll, skinny ties and all, now I’m more interested in chillin’ out. And that’s alright with me.

Today at work was Lydia’s last day. She was sweet enough to give me a gift, a photo book of her native country, Estonia. She was a real sweetheart, so pretty and definitely a help around the office. I’m certainly going to miss her and I know my workload will increase which is good, though I think they might realize their mistake in not getting a receptionist since I may be out on errands and they might actually have to do something physical. By they, I mean the people who decided not to get a receptionist, in case you hadn’t figured it out.

Here’s some snaps of Lydia, who’s real name is Linda. And some other various snaps.

told you she was pretty…

Sunlight on the photos

Hoboken Sunsets

Scientologists auditing

The end

and here’s something funner

I May Be Wrong (But I Think You’re Wonderful)

Well it’s Thursday but it feels like Friday. A holiday weekend Friday no less. But still it’s a Thursday and I made it through ok. My brother in law, Rex had his heart procedure this morning and it went beautifully, thanks to the Italian cardiologist in Cleveland. I said she was Italian because she’s from Italy and apparently the only one in North America who could do the procedure that the numb skulls at UCSF did not follow up on, throwing their bloody hands in the air saying, ‘oh Rex should have come in for a follow up. I guess we should have told you, but we didn’t so you’re fucked. Bye!’ Yeah fuck you too bitches.

I got a phone call from my sister Annemarie, happy to answer it, but dreading what I might hear, but it was Annemarie crying tears of joy, that it went so well. A relief to be able to call my family and tell them the good news. Everyone happy on the family front for Rex. Good news at last.

Last night Bill came home, the third time in a row this week. It’s so good to have him around. He didn’t drive me crazy like he sometimes does. I don’t mind the crazy. I mind the moments of solitude when he’s not here. We watched the season finale of Lawn Hor d’oeuvres. And like the Olivia Show on Lawn Hor d’oeuvres SVU it had an extremely weak ending.

I could have written a better ending than what was presented. Jack McCoy, car chase, shoot out, love scene would have been miles better than the Elliot Spitzer rehash with the governor played by the young Tom Hanks look alike from That Thing That You Do getting off the hook. Bill was vocally disappointed, I wasn’t paying that much attention. I didn’t stay up for the news, I went to bed and fell asleep rather quickly. Woke up Bill still asleep next to me, looking so cute.

I got myself together and was out the door, dropping off God is Not Great at the library having finished it last night. Reading the New Yorker about a club in Hollywood called Largo. It seems it’s the in spot for hipsters and musicians, probably much like McSwells used to be in the eighties and nineties. Almost made me want to go there but realizing that if it made it to the New Yorker it’s time had come and the time will soon be past. Been there done that.

True, John Paul Jones never played on stage at McSwells but hey, we had Peter Buck having French onion soup in the front room with Julie Panebianco and that has to count for something doesn’t it?

Also read about a Jazz afficianado, or Jazz queer as Ann Boyles like to say. A fanatic, the last of a breed searching out Charlie Parker 78’s or Bix Beiderbecke sides from the 1920’s. He has a radio show on WJCR at Columbia University. It was a good article, and I related to it somewhat, though not a jazz fan per se, but the hunting down of records that I loved or heard about was close to home. It almost got me interested in jazz. Almost.

Today was the penultimate day for the sweet receptionist Lydia. That meant going out for drinks. I was smart enough to hit McDonalds and have a little something in my system before quaffing a few pints. It was me and Lydia plus Allen and Rossi. A few laughs over pints with the guys, Lydia sipping a glass of white wine. Marty Allen and I bought a few rounds, I used petty cash, Marty Allen out of pocket. Vivek showed up and gregarious as usual bought the rest of the round as well as some snacks that we could munch on.

Somehow my age came up and I was compelled for the past year to keep it under wraps, but since I was on the spot I had to tell the truth, I am 45. Their reaction? I was a young looking 45. I actually look as young or younger than them, excepting Lydia who’s 21. I act younger than them that’s for sure, excepting Lydia once again. After 4 pints, 2 more than I had planned I made an exit with Lydia, walking her to her train.

Here I am now, hearing that John McCrazy disowned John Hagee’s endorsement which is good news for the country and showing that John McCain really isn’t a good judge of character or a good judge of anything really worthwhile. Now, let’s arrest Karl ‘Big Ass Closet Case’ Rove.

Time to chill. Peace out cub scouts.
Here’s Ian Hunter, a dedication for Annemarie, Rex and Earl

Got A Lot On My Head

It’s one of those days again. Nothing too bad, everything ok. The news is on and what they’re saying is that gas could go up to $5.00 a gallon by summer’s end. It all seems like this is headed towards the beginning of the Road Warrior. One of my favorite movies. In the prologue, the narrator tells of wars that are fought for oil, the precious fuel leading to the breakdown of society and the rise of gangs and tribes. I hope life isn’t imitating art but as far as gasoline prices it seems to be headed that way. Drama!

Ted Kennedy has a brain tumor and according to the newspapers today he has months to live. I respect Ted Kennedy and I know he is more than a flawed human being. I think the good he has done out weighs the bad. Of course the wing nuts will bring up Mary Jo Kopechne and her tragic death will always be over Ted’s head. I don’t know how her family feels, if her parents are still alive. But that matter is between the Kopechne family and the Kennedy family and no one else, despite the wing nut’s claims otherwise. I wish him well.

Growing up in an Irish Catholic household, the Kennedy family were like royalty. There was a memorial plate hanging in our dining room of John Kennedy which always gave me the creeps. I knew something bad happened to him and thought it morbid to be constantly reminded of it. In the back of my mind I felt a little guilty that he died, like it was my fault. I was nowhere near Dallas that day in November 1963 and in any event I was just a little over a year old.

Work was ok. Two more days of having Lydia around. I’m definitely going to miss her, she’s a sweetie. Tomorrow night is the going out for drinks as a fare the well to her. She’ll be playing tennis out in Southampton this summer at the country club as a tennis pro. I think this might be her last year doing that since she really doesn’t like tennis, she’s only been doing it most of her life.

She plans to move back to Estonia. I have to admit, before I met Lydia I had no idea where Estonia was. She’s a beauty though and could more than likely make it as a model or actress if she wanted. Oh to be 24 and beautiful again. That’s right, I said again. Of course there would be caveats attached, like knowing what I do now as well as a nice amount of lottery numbers to play.

And what about the politics today? Clinton insisting that Florida and Michigan primary votes be counted despite agreeing not to count those votes along with Obama and the DNC since those two states moved their primaries up earlier than they should have. That was one of the things that turned me off of Clinton. It wasn’t that difficult with her husband lurking about being an idiot.

I bought Bat Out of Hell by Meat Loaf in the supermarket tonight. It was $4.99 and it was part of my DNA anyhow. Yes it’s corny but some of the songs are true classics. I’m stunned by how many lyrics I remember and though it’s been played millions of times, Paradise by the Dashboard Light is a brilliant pop song, as is Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad. Great word play, doncha think?

I know it’s no West, Bruce and Laing….

from JoeMyGod

What You Need

Another rainy day. I had better not hear anything about a drought this summer, I tell you. So yesterday was a busy day work wise. I had errands to run and even had to return to Wanker Banker which is no more so I can actually call it Putnam Lovell. We had deals going on which from what I heard went well. Now that Moe Stooge is out of the picture somewhat I have to rename the other two, so Allen and Rossi will do. Marty Allen was working on some reports that had to be printed in color, and then they had to be bound.

Well we ran out of Cyan ink, which is the fancy name for Blue, and we ran out of clear plastic covers for the reports. I scrambled, making phone calls trying to get these items. I was able to get the ink, a bargain at $100.00 including delivery, to the office by closing time. Marty Allen was going to have to stay and print out what he needed. I made a phone call to the great Gazoo, my friend Gazi who is the IT guy at Putnam Lovell.

He sort of hooked me up with some plastic covers. I knew they had them since I used to order them when I worked there. They were probably still in the same place. Gazi hooked it up and I chatted with him for a spell. It’s still a ghost town on the 34th floor. Saw Diane W who I tried to introduce to Martha G, since both work in film, Martha looking for financing and Diane looking to finance. But one of them never got back to me so the ball was dropped and my producing career went down the drain. I just don’t know anyone in the building except for the cleaning staff and one or two other people besides Gazi.

Even though I didn’t have to do all that running around, I did it anyway as a way to perhaps me look good. A sterling job as the CEO of Omnicom told me when I worked for Wolff Olins. Of course that compliment didn’t sustain me that long. The CEO’s like me mostly, Don Putnam liked me and offered me a gig in San Francisco when I went out there in 2004, Brian Boylan from Omnicom telling me that I was doing a sterling job, Greg Stevens always looking out for me. I’m in a fortunate position through some sort of providence I suppose.

Thisclose to finishing God Is Not Great but it was due back at the library. The head librarian, Diane likes me and was able to extend my second renewal for another week. So Christopher ‘Love him or hate him. Most people hate him’ Hitchens gets a week’s reprieve. Bill was here last night and we watched The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. I saw it initially in the theater and it was really a movie unlike any other. It certainly deserves to be seen and I think Bill was glad that he was able to see it.

Still an amazing movie, great acting all around and great cinematography. The book was even better, it had me choked up outside the library as I read the final pages before returning it. Spoke with Billie in DC last night. He’s recovering from a bout of bronchitis as well as really bad allergies. With a compromised immune system it threw him for a loop, with all the coughing he was doing he pulled a muscle in his chest which hurt when he laughed. And unfortunately I always make Billie laugh.

I think my sister made it out to Cleveland today, and I think my brother in law’s procedure is tomorrow. I’m crossing my fingers as I type.

Just found this….

Memo From Turner

Well today was a long day. But first of course, last night. Last night was very quiet, didn’t do much at all. The end. No, I’m kidding. Last night was quiet though. Watched TV, 60 Minutes with a story on Jon Bon Jovi. I worked with Jon’s cousin Barry. I had a crush on Barry, still do to some degree. A nice guy, looked out for me while I worked under the thumb of Simon Andrews, sometimes known as Eric Andrews. He (Simon Eric Andrews Hair Plug) also had a fetish for big breasted women with lactating breasts. Yes it was gross but it wasn’t my fetish and who am I to judge? You can judge all you want.

Jon Bon Jovi did stop by the studio on occasion and I met him once or twice. Nice guy, definitely a Jersey guy and then again, so am I. I speak the language, the mumbling asides, the shuffled feet, the chip on the shoulder. But given the choice I would have rather been with Barry rather than Jon. Jon is giving back to the community and I can’t fault him for that. Who says you can’t go home indeed.

Then was the Simpsons doing an All About Eve featuring Lisa, followed by King of the Hill. Both were pretty good but I was distracted and didn’t know how King of the Hill ended. Never found out who voiced LuAnn’s father. If you know, please fill me in. I sat in front of the computer and soon got lost in the Marvel Comics Universe, after seeing Iron Man with Chaz yesterday afternoon. Catching up on characters I used to read about.

Forgot how I used to have a thing for Black Bolt, leader of the Inhumans. I really identified with the Inhumans for some reason. I read up about Captain Marvel and the Kree/Skrull wars. Nonsense that if you didn’t read the comic books you wouldn’t understand. Somehow while reading about the Marvel Universe, i.e. Comic books you can read online, I had a movie on called Stomp The Yard.

Somehow I always find these ‘troubled teens who can dance their way out of trouble’ movies. This one was about a kid from Los Angeles who’s brother gets killed after a dance off so the the kid gets shipped to anonymous east coast black university, where he learns humility while falling for the richest, posh girl on campus who is also the daughter of the dean of admissions or ethics or bingo master.

Of course it has a happy ending though the brother from the beginning is still dead and the guy that killed him is still on the loose. I used to want to see a step show in person but this movie genre, including Drum Line, You Got Served, Your Feet are too Small to Dance with God and the like, just made me less interested. Perhaps if I stumbled upon a step show I would enjoy it but it seems unlikely. Unless I start my own black fraternity… I better get on that or it will be a bunch of guys with their crutches, canes and walkers trying to dance.

Runaround Sue

Rainy Sunday. At least partly. Last night was a bit rainy but I was in watching the third Pirates of the Caribbean. I watched the first two at various parts of the day, before going out to the city, coming back from the city. It was a marathon on one of the cable channels so I was able to drift in and out and not miss much of anything. It was ok, definitely the franchise has run aground.

Keith Richards as Johnny Depp’s mumbly father, ‘He has his father’s mascara.’ Actually Johnny Depp’s Keith impersonation was better than the real thing. I think I saw Bill Wyman but that may have been a barnacle in the background. Who could tell? Then I watched Saturday Night Live which I thought was disappointing. It’s getting hard to see Steve Carrell as something other than Michael from the Office.

I think in previous years the last show before the winter holidays and the last show of the season were usually what I thought the funniest and they would put these sketches on that were so ‘out there’ that I couldn’t help but love them. Last night wasn’t the same. It all just petered out. And Usher wasn’t all that either. Can’t say that I’m much of a fan of Usher’s but I just wasn’t feeling his first performance and went to bed before his second.

Slept really well and I confess I had one cigarette last night coming off the beer buzz. Didn’t enjoy it though so I probably won’t be doing that again. Woke up feeling fine this morning, though it was a little early. So I made some coffee and went back to bed. A decent hour was 8:30 so I started moving about then. Got sundries for the new parents, and for myself, set about reading the papers, having a nice breakfast and after an hour or two, a nap.

Got a phone call from Roda. He was working at his art studio in the Neumann Leather building which for the past 20 years has been a series of art studios, including Tim Daly’s. That’s supposed to all end in December. They’re having an open house and Roda asked me to stop by. I planned to then Chaz called. I forgot about seeing Iron Man this afternoon, we’d planned it a few weeks ago. Chaz came by and picked me up and we drove up to Edgewater, maintaining the deal of Chaz driving and me buying the tickets.

We caught up on shows that were coming up this summer, shows that neither one of us could actually afford. Luckily there are a lot of good free shows on the menu, and if not free, then you could at least hear the music but not see the bands, like at Summerstage. The theater was packed by the time the movie started. Robert Downey Jr. was great.

Everybody likes Robert Downey Jr. and I had noticed that only the villains smoke in the movie. I guess that’s the wave of the future. A very good comic book movie, with of course an open door at the very end, after the final credits, for a sequel. And already they’re complaining about the casting of Nick Fury on IMDB. Back to work tomorrow. If you have any good thoughts, send them to the care Rex Dippre, my brother in law who is undergoing a heart procedure in Cleveland this week. I would appreciate it and so will my sister and her family. Thanks.

Please forward this to 10 friends if you know whats good for you.

Buenos Hermanos

A very nice Saturday. Beautiful blue sky, nice temperature in the high 60’s. After the day of rain it was great to be able to be out and about. Yesterday, only left the apartment in the rain once and that was in the morning. Watched Catch 22 after I watched I Am Legend. The verdict in I Am Legend is the same, Boo. Catch 22 I gave it my best effort but still could not get into it as a whole. I never read the book so that might matter.

My brother Frank had been talking about Catch 22 the past few times I spoke with him on the phone and I can get his point how it can be related to today’s events, switch the M&M syndicate with Blackwater/Halliburton and it makes sense. I first heard about Catch 22 though Mad Magazine back in the day and that’s how the movie stayed with me by watching it through Bill Gaines eyes.

Today was an interesting day. Woke up at a decent hour, slightly before 8:00. Got foodstuffs for the new parents on the third floor and some groceries for myself, trying to shop frugally. Got a haircut and also ran into Martin Kelly at CVS. Always good to see Martin. I always liked Martin, he was a good guy that looked out for me from time to time.

Now he’s working at CVS and living in Union City. I must confess it was a bit unnerving seeing Martin a few years ago for the first time. He looked like he lost some weight. Weight perhaps put on while serving drinks in the back room at McSwells. We caught up rather fast this morning, who saw whom and where and what condition were they in, stuff like that. Scott H on the wagon and drinking ginger ale for those who want to know.

Got a call from good old Pedro. He was heading into Manhattan with his girlfriend Connie. It was a good day for it so I decided to join them. Unfortunately they’re now out of towners and somehow wound up at Caliente Cab Company, a Mexican restaurant for people who don’t know any better. I like Mexican food and it was bearable, but you definitely get more for your money elsewhere though I think people go to Caliente for drinks rather than food.

Kept in touch with El Jefe and Gigglepuss who were on their own sojourn in Manhattan. After a few Coronas with Pedro and Connie and traipsing through a meandering street fair in the West Village, they heading back to Otisville. They offered to take me up there but once again I begged off, needing more time to prepare. Maybe next week. When I go to see Miriam and Joe in Sleepy Hollow it might be possible to make it to Otisville somehow.

Hooked up with El Jefe and Lady Gigglepuss we rode back to Hoboken for more beers before heading home on our separate ways. Just a mellow Saturday night planned. Coming down off the beer buzz, looking forward to nothing in particular. Bill and I were supposed to see Natalie Cole at Lehman College in the Bronx tonight, but since the butting heads the other night we’re not going. Bill is watching his cousin Elsie’s kids while she and her husband go see Natalie Cole.

I don’t mind, I wasn’t much interested in seeing Natalie Cole anyhow. Mellow night, jonesing for a cigarette. So, how are you doing?

Pedro and Connie

El Jefe and Lady Gigglepuss

Lady Gigglepuss

Me and Guinness

Boogie Chillen

A dreary Friday. Nothing much going on. Took off from work legitimately and it’s just as well the weather is so dismal. I just watched ‘I Am Legend’ starring Will Smith. It had nothing to do with John Legend, much like Postcards From The Edge was not about notes sent from abroad while traveling with U2, or Legends of The Fall being about the exploits of Mark E. Smith. Anyway, I Am Legend stunk. Yet another movie that I’ve watched at home on DVD where I felt compelled to yell out Boo! Did not like the CG effects, though Manhattan ghost town was impressive.

Last night was another mellow night. Bill was here again in time to watch The Office which was very good and very twisted and very funny. Then it was time for Lost which left Bill and myself hanging, an abrupt ending which should be resolved in two friggin weeks in a two hour season finale. Once again I recommend going to the Entertainment Weekly website for recap info on both Lost and The Office. Still haven’t watched Ugly Betty since I opted to watch The Daily Show/Colbert Report instead. The urge to smoke is still there. Hanging in there.

I truly despise George Bush more than I have ever despised anyone else in my life. I can’t wait for that little monkey turd to be out of the White House. Still I wish him no ill will, knowing that if something happened to the little monkey turd, then an even worse germ would take his place. Just venting a bit. You probably feel the same as I do if you’re reading this.

The California Supreme Court decided in favor of Same Sex marriage which is a good thing, and also a lightning rod for the right wing to gather around and mobilize for the election. The right wing have been waiting for this for quite a while, and unfortunately the left doesn’t appear as organized, plus there are some on the left that are against same sex marriage. Not all liberals are cool with gay people. So it’s a good thing for gay people but could be divisive issue come election day. I think if a gay or lesbian couple want to get married, let them.

I don’t know if Bill and I would tie the knot. I mean, we probably bicker like any other couple, the thing is, I write about it, and you only get one side of the story unless Bill is writing about it somewhere. And don’t forget the third version of the story, if you want that Rashomon feel.

Madonna is playing Madison Square Garden in October and I will continue to ignore her. I am going to see Sunday In the Park With George with brother Frank and Elaine and Meghan and Cory in June. I bought the tickets with a discount online today. Frank and I are Sondheim fans and this is supposed to be a good revival.

We missed Company last year, another Sondheim show, and when Company didn’t win any Tony awards it closed a week later. But with Frank’s stroke, chance are we wouldn’t have been able to go anyhow. So Tonys or not, we have tickets and if it closes, we’ll have refunds.

Got a call out of the blue from my old friend Miriam. She and her husband Joe had a baby girl last year. I last saw Miriam a week or so before she gave birth to Mareah Grace Mazzarella. They’re having a get together on May 25 in Sleepy Hollow so that should be fun. Next weekend is Memorial Day weekend. Unofficial start of the summer. Hoboken parking spots aplenty, at least on weekends.

Da Butt

Ok, I have a swollen face. Well it was really swollen this morning. It’s gone down considerably. Things have improved a lot between Bill and myself. Last night I took a nap from 5:30 to about 10:00. Saw Bill and went to bed an hour later. So it was cool. Still have some ways to go but he’s working on it.

I haven’t had a cigarette in over 24 hours and that is an accomplishment. I do enjoy holding one, but no lighting. Holding one is enough. If I could get off cigarettes I would be impressed. The cigars are an occasional thing though.

I certainly don’t mind being around smokers and in midtown Manhattan, outside of most office buildings there are a lot of smokers mingling. The thing is I always liked smoking. I wanted to do it when I was just a kid. I was surrounded by smokers since most everyone smoked back then. It was alright. In junior and senior year of high school, we could smoke in out designated smoking area.

Smoking saved my butt also. In summer school between junior and senior year having cigarettes helped me win favor from the ‘cool’ kids so much so, that when the regular sessions began in the fall, I wasn’t picked on so much since the cool kids liked me. For my cigarettes of course. Having 2 parents that smoked made sure that I wouldn’t be out of cigarettes. I must have had my first cigarette when I may have been about 10 years old.

Johnny Serpone, a neighbor and I plotted out stealing a pack of cigarettes from his parents and riding down to Industrial Lane on a Saturday afternoon and have our first puffs. I barely had a puff before I was wracked with guilt and fear and rode my bicycle home, gulping in as much air and running to the kitchen faucet when I got home to drink as much water as possible.

At various points in my childhood I was hanging out with juvenile delinquent smokers. At the Boys Club which was supposed to be where boys could get away from bad influences, I went out of my way to find the bad influences. Also outside the VFW where my parents hung out. Found myself outside with some naer do wells sneaking illicit puffs. I was found out though, but I doubt my siblings remember.

Everyone smoked. It was everywhere. You could smoke in the bank, in the supermarket, movie theaters were great places to smoke. Hospitals, doctor’s offices, buses, trains, restaurants. They frowned on places of worship, though one had to wonder where they got the ashes for Ash Wednesday. Having a cigarette was a good way to meet people, and not just oncologists.

You could ask someone for a light, and perhaps strike up a conversation or more. Or when cigarettes were cheaper you could bum a cigarette from someone or they could bum from you. Nowadays, people offer you money for a cigarette, sometimes a quarter, but lately a dollar.

Me, I rolled my own. Sometimes people would ask for a cigarette and I would offer a ready rolled cigarette. More often than not they would refuse, proving that beggars could be choosers. So, it’s been over 24 hours, been holding a cigarette, not lighting it. Feels good just to hold it. I guess it’s like Baretta. All I need is a cockatoo. Or was that a typo?

On My Radio

Well it’s a new day and I feel like shit. Didn’t sleep well and I am anxious about this afternoon’s oral surgery. I feel somewhat doomed. Last night still replays in my mind. I was supposed to go with Bill and his cousin to see Natalie Cole (?) this weekend but I told Bill to forget about it. I really don’t give a damn about Natalie Cole. I’m sure she’s a nice person But I would rather not go. Things are definitely up in the air vis a vis Bill and myself. He’s also supposed to be the godfather to a friend’s baby on Saturday afternoon and since last night I would rather not go to that as well.

Let’s face it, the way I feel now, I doubt I will be doing anything with Bill in the near future. To Bill’s credit I got 2 text messages this morning, the first one went as follows: ‘Babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t let u know I needed more time to finish my work instead of having u waiting around not knowing what was going on. I’m also sorry 4 snapping @ u b4 entering the subway. U shouldn’t have 2 bear the brunt of my frustrations’. And the second text message: I truly love u and only want happiness 4 u. Also (and I hope u embrace this as much as I mean this), u, r a winner.’

All very nice and I’m sure he spoke with his friend Margaret which prompted him to have such an about face, because last night he was quite adamant in his refusal to apologize for anything as I sat there being hurt. Do I need this? No I don’t. I have enough on my plate, as does Bill. I asked Bill on the phone last night if he noticed that I don’t tell him anything really about what is going on in my life and of course he didn’t notice and why should he. He’s always going off on what is plaguing his life at the moment and after his comment that I am high maintenance I decided not to tell him anything personal about me.

Great relationship huh?

As I walked across town this morning on my way to work, I decided to play side 2 of the Buzzcocks ‘A Different Kind of Tension’ starting out with ‘I Don’t Know What to Do With My Life’ and ending with ‘I Believe’ which is one of my all time favorite songs. I was surprised that I was getting choked up during ‘I Believe’ singing quietly to myself and walking through Bryant Park. I continued after that to Singles Going Steady, the Buzzcocks singles compilation. Ever Fallen In Love, What Do I Get, Promises all hit home.

I tell you Pete Shelley really hit the nail on the head when he wrote those songs. Now it’s back to the anxiety, the fear that something is going to go wrong with my oral surgery. My brother Frank had his stroke last year, around this time, the dreaded month of May and I feel I am slated for the same fate or worse depending on how you look at it. In any event I would like ‘I Believe’ by the Buzzcocks to be played during my memorial service. I definitely don’t have a positive attitude towards the whole thing and once again I am on my own, going through it solo. I guess writing about what songs I would like played at my memorial service betrays my morbid approach to the whole situation.


Walked to the Dental School, and it was warm enough outside to break a sweat and that’s when I realized I forgot to put on deodorant this morning, so out of it was I. I got to the front desk on the fifth floor and let them know I was in. As I was taking a seat, who do I see but Bill. Apparently he took half a day off at work so he could be with me. I was pretty much frightened of the whole oral surgery thing, and the memory of my brother Frank’s stroke, caused initially by a tooth infection added fuel to my fire.

I told Bill that if I start talking incoherently and I’m not drunk or on drugs, get me to a hospital pronto. With the stress of the dentist as well as last night’s fiasco I was a bundle of nerves and it showed this morning. And no real restful sleep. I think Bill either figured it out from what I told him last night, or someone else talked some sense into him but he was somewhat humbled this afternoon. We still have a lot to talk about with regards to it all. I’m tired.

The Final Taxi

Hello. Tonight’s entry is from the loneliest guy on the East Coast. I would have said the world but there are probably plenty of lonely guys around. So I’ll take the east coast for myself, thank you. Tonight was supposed to be a fun evening. Unfortunately it didn’t turn out that way. The day started out quite nicely. Bill was here, we watched The Savages which hit home for Bill, having been through the situation of having a parent with dementia.

I enjoyed the movie too, if it can be called enjoyment. Just that I was able to see things in the movie that I hadn’t seen the first time around, like Laura Linney’s facial expressions or Philip Seymour Hoffman’s mannerisms. Went to bed after that, Bill joined me soon after. It was bliss having him laying there. I was fast asleep and didn’t hear him come to bed. Woke up and it was good to see him there next to me. I had picked out what I was going to wear to work, something extra special since Bill and I were invited to a shindig down on Wall Street that his cousin Elsie invited us to.

I had known about this for a week or so so I was looking forward to it, as was Bill. We haven’t had any good celebrations or parties to go to so this was going to be fun. The ride to work was pleasant, the weather was great. The office filled up, I was somewhat busy, running errands, even sent a small package to Annemarie, it was a good day. Everything seemed to be up up up. That should have been the warning sign. I got out of work at 4:30. Bill told me he was going to get out, maybe 5:00, more likely 5:30. No problem.

It was a nice enough afternoon. I wandered around puffing on a Padron, and found myself outside of Bill’s office building at 5:20. I called Bill, he still had some things to do. I mentioned seeing him in 10 minutes. 30 minutes later I was tired of standing on the sidewalk in dress shoes. Padron was finished so I called Bill’s desk and left a message, telling him I was going to be in Bryant Park waiting. Sure enough, after I found a seat in the park, Bill calls. By now, I’m tired and hungry but willing to go have a good time.

Bill showed up and I mentioned that I should have waited in the park rather than outside Bill’s building, seeing everyone going home, walking to the bus terminal. From out of nowhere, Bill says ‘if it’s going to be like this for the rest of the night I want to know now!’ I repeat that I should have waited in the park. He repeats himself just as angry as the first time he said it. So we start walking to the subway, not really speaking with each other. Bill did say, he was inundated with work at the last minute, all excuses, no apology.

No, ‘sorry, but it wasn’t my fault, they threw a lot of things at me at the last minute’. No that would’ve been the nice thing to say. Bill asked how my day was and I gave a thumbs up, saying it was perfect. That was the wrong thing to say, since he heard it as having attitude. I didn’t intend for it to be attitude, and what if it was? He showed quite an angry attitude with his ‘tell me now’ shit. That effectively killed any conversation between the 2 of us for the evening. And also his imitating of me with my thumbs up and saying ‘perfect’ didn’t help matters at all.

I sat next to Bill and we barely said a word. In fact, I talked to the waiter more than I talked to Bill. I told Bill’s cousin that I was going to be leaving after the dinner since I had to take a train home and after a certain hour, you have to transfer in Jersey City. With the night I was having, sitting in the middle of a party, not talking to anyone, much less my partner, sitting 6 inches to my left, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Bill’s cousin said she and her husband were leaving at 9:30, taking a town car home.

At 9:00 I made my exit, kissing Bill’s cousin good night and thanking her for the invitation. I looked at Bill and said ‘see ya’. I walked to the Path train, wishing there was someone I could talk to. I don’t think I ever felt as lonely as I did tonight. I tried calling Annemarie a few times, but she was out. I probably worried my nephew Earl since I called 3 times. I thought it pathetic, the only person I felt I could talk to was 3000 miles away.

Forget about local friends, Julio and Stine have Alexander, Roda has his son, Rand has his own thing going on, and Harpy, has his own problems. Everyone seemed to have real, more pressing matters at hand, including Annemarie, who has probably the most serious, the realest problems with her husband Rex and his heart procedure coming up, and here I am, ‘boo hoo. My partner isn’t talking to me’. Sometimes I just feel so pathetic. I did eventually talk to Annemarie and that helped, as did scribbling in my notebook on the Path train home.

I also called Bill and we had it out somewhat. He wasn’t going to call me. I did tell him that my ‘perfect’ thumbs up may have been seen and heard as snotty, but it wasn’t. His ‘tell me now’ crap was pure anger. And he never apologized for being late. I had to tell him that all he had to say was ‘sorry, but it wasn’t my fault’ and I think the concept escaped him. Jeezy creezy, when did I become such a pathetic loser? Or was I always that way and being alone just brought it all home tonight? Bill’s pride in non-communication certainly did not help.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Union City Blue

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, a day that I am probably at my most low key. True I did see some of my family in the morning, but other than that I kept to myself mainly. Not in the doldrums and not resenting other people who’s mothers are still alive like the first couple of years after my mother passed away. Didn’t do much of anything and right now I can’t think of anything that I might have done.

I did watch Alec Baldwin on 60 Minutes, then watched the Simpsons where to my surprise, Homer’s mother Mona passed away, on Mother’s Day. Don’t know if it was Mother’s Day in Springfield, but it was the day they broadcast it. Homer mourned and fulfilled his mother’s final wishes, dismantling a missile silo inadvertently with his mother’s ashes. King of the Hill was also very good and funny. It’s rare that I watch King of the Hill on it’s own, it’s almost always after watching the Simpsons.

Then I watched Ratatouille, which took me by surprise. It’s was very good and the animation was great. A cute little story. Who knew that rats could be so adorable and not ridden with disease and parasites? I was just glad they didn’t have the rats talking to the people and vice versa. The human, named Linguine did speak but it wasn’t like there was a conversation between him and Remy the rat. Recommended.

After that, then the news. Lots of tornadoes in the Midwest as well as in the south. If I were to use the meteorological and theological skills of John McCrazy’s friend, Pastor John Hagee I would wonder why god hates all of these people in the United States? His rationale for Katrina was the big gay Southern Decadence party scheduled for the week that Katrina hit and god was so angry about that it nearly wiped out New Orleans.

I don’t think many gay people were killed or left homeless so this avenging god just fucked up the lives of those who passionately believe in it, with the pieces still scattered since these oh so pious christians spend more time demonizing LGBT people and not helping the poor and less fortunate that Jesus did and suggested his followers do. So I blame god for these disasters, courtesy of Pastor John Hagee. You use god to explain one catastrophe, why not use the god for all catastrophes? Myanmar and China were simply believing in the wrong god.

Woke up this morning to the sounds of an extremely heavy rain storm, heavy enough for me to send an email saying that I wouldn’t be in. I then went back to bed after texting Lydia that I wouldn’t be in. An hour or so later I felt bad that I wasn’t going in so I contacted Lydia and told her that I might be in if they could ‘finish fixing my ceiling which was leaking’. That was the excuse. I used it once before when working at Wolff Olins or rather, McMann and Tate.

So I was able to take my time and get ready for work at my own pace. I made it into the office a little after 11:00. Most everyone had leaky ceiling stories so they all chimed in with their versions. I told them that the repairs were started pretty much after I sent the initial email and that my really nice neighbors were overseeing the clean up. Still it was a crappy morning, strong winds turning umbrellas inside out.

I took the subway to the office, and it seemed like I was the go to guy for people who didn’t know how to get to where they wanted to go. 3 different people in 5 minutes. Got to the office and surprised everyone which made me look good, coming to work while repairs were being done on my apartment. Today was the day that postage stamps went up a penny so I took it upon myself to get to the post office to get them.

It wasn’t raining when I walked up Third Avenue. I passed this guy who seemed glad to see me. He said his name was Mike and we had some friends in common. A black woman that I am good friends with is his sister. All I could think of was Margaret, Bill’s friend. He rattled on and on about Margaret, how ill she’s gotten. I was surprised at how much he knew, or claimed to know while maintaining a healthy skepticism.

He said he goes to Hunter College and bought a car but the gas guage was broken and he needed some money to get some gas. Like $8.00. I gave him $3.00 and walked away. I called up Bill and asked if Margaret had a brother and it turns out she didn’t. It was a scam, a well played scam, worth $3.00, no more no less.

New Tom Waits video, posted today! Lie To Me.

The Bulrushes

A very mellow day. Presently watching a documentary on the Hippies, narrated by Peter Coyote, former Digger and the go to guy for narration duties for this type of thing. It’s not the ‘everything was great’ documentary, it’s more like “look it had it’s dark side.” I’m not really paying much attention to it. It’s rather bland and it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before. Last night was very quiet, didn’t do much of anything.

Juan called at 11:30 wanting to go out, and I told him that I would need a little more time to prepare, and Saturday Night Live had started, so I was basically in for the night. Fifteen years, while living in Weehawken I would wait until midnight on Saturday nights, phone in my unemployment claim then walk down to McSwells where I wouldn’t leave until after closing and somehow make it home usually by taxi, or depending on the kindness of strangers.

Now, I’d need enough notice, a disco nap and probably some Red Bull just to get me out the door. Juan did go out, solo and was the belle of the ball from what he said. I probably would have maintained my persona non grata status. Just as well that I didn’t go out since my niece Meghan and her husband Rob were participating a 5 kilometer run in Hoboken.

I found out last night with Meghan calling me. Last year she called me an hour before the race and I went, but this year I was able to prepare myself and have coffee and breakfast beforehand. This year, brother Frank, his wife Elaine and their other daughter Cori were able to make it. They called, wanting to come over to use the bathroom. I asked them where they were and they were closer to the train station so I steered them there and got myself together.

I met up with them on the street, Frank jonesing for an Egg McMuffin so it was off to McDonald’s for him while Elaine and Cori and I waited outside. Various families running off to early brunches and breakfasts for Mother’s Day, including McDonald’s. WE walked over to the river where there was a mass of runners waiting to start running. A couple of hundred I would say. They were soon off vanishing into the distance.

We sat on benches where Frank ate what turned out to be cinnamon buns, not an Egg McMuffin. The runners made their way back, Rob coming in 10th place for men and Meghan coming in 2nd for women. Meghan also received a trophy for her efforts. It was great to spend some time with the Garfield contingent this morning. Everyone seemed healthy and happy. Rob and Meg gave me a ride home with everyone headed back to Garfield.

I came home had some coffee and read the papers and I’m content. A very low key day is just what is needed at this point. No complaints, no stress. And here are some snaps from this morning’s activities. See you tomorrow….

Rob on the run

Meghan on the run

The Garfield Contingent

Cory and Me

Meghan gets her trophy

Me and the nieces

Sister Midnight

Well Saturday came and here it is. Turned out to be nice weather after a day and night of rain. Watched the TV last night, chatted with Juan before that. He made some suggestion about going out, I plead poverty. He lost his cellphone and doesn’t have internet where he’s been living at school. He did have a sketch of a plan to come up and visit his mother in Union City, so I told him to give me a call if he was in the area.

By 11:30 I was having difficulty staying awake so I went to bed, only to be woken by the buzzer at midnight. It was Juan looking to hang out. I was almost asleep and had to turn him down which sucked, but perhaps if I had gotten a phone call I would have made an effort. But he didn’t so I went back to sleep.

Then the phone rang and it was Bill calling to wish me a good night as well as tell me the latest tale of woe with regards to looking after his mother. I tried to reassure him that he should get some sleep and it might be better in the morning. When we spoke this morning things hadn’t gotten any better but they didn’t get any worse either. Poor Bill, at wit’s end. His mother can’t be left alone yet Bill has to get on with his day to day routine somehow.

I did my Saturday morning routine and shocked at what used to be cheaper a month or so ago has nearly doubled in price. Everything is getting more expensive. Even bagels which I now butter myself at home, thank you very much. Did the laundry, read the papers had breakfast. I also watched the Fantastic Four: The Rise of the Silver Surfer.

If you were a fan of the Fantastic Four like I was and knew the Silver Surfer saga you will be disappointed. A real must to avoid. Stick to the comic books. I still want to see Iron Man though, which would probably be the first time I listen to a Black Sabbath song with out the urge to leave the room.

Decided to head into the city after that. Took the Path train in and got off at Christopher Street which I hadn’t done in a long time, not in a year maybe. Walked around neighborhoods that were very different years ago. Favorite stores gone, even Washington Square Park is being redone. I think they were re-centering the fountain that used to be in the middle, a little off of center, which added to the charm but the new powers that be decided it must be aligned with something so now a good portion of the park has been dug up, behind fences and unaccessible. The Bottom Line is gone, Tower Records is gone, and we all know CBGB’s is gone too, and Washington Square isn’t the same. .

Sheridan Square/Christopher Street

Sixth Avenue and West 4th Street

Washington Square Park

The former Bottom Line

formerly Tower Records

Lafayette Street and Fourth Avenue

I walked up Lafayette Street, overhearing a conversation on Leslie Van Houten, one of the Manson Girls. Walked up to 110 Fourth Avenue which is where the best god damned card shop in Manhattan is, known as Farfetched. Farfetched is owned by Susan Zappone and Lois Marsilio, 2 old friends of Harpy’s that I’ve known about 10 years now. Farfetched is a fascinating store full of knick knacks and do dads and the occasional whatnot. Harpy was working with Susan and the atmosphere was full of happiness and good music. The customers were plenty and in need of a lot of attention, excepting the steadfast customers who have been shopping at Farfetched since 1945. I believe Harry Truman bought himself a picture frame on a whistle stop tour of Manhattan in 1947. Either Truman or Eisenhower, I don’t know, I could be wrong on that count.

Harpy and Susan at Farfetched

I then walked around a bit, chatted with Annemarie on the phone too near cell phone dead zones and avoided the recently infested with bed bugs, Union Square. I walked up Park Avenue, puffing on a Padron and listening to the B-52’s Funplex which gets better each time I play it and I’ve been playing it once a day at least.

Walked up to 33rd Street so I could finish my cigar and get a seat on the Path train back to Hoboken. An uneventful ride with me reading ‘God is Not Great’ by Christopher Hitchens. Hoboken was busy, people walking up and down the boulevard and shopping. Since tomorrow is Mother’s Day, the card and gift shops were busy, which explains the busyness of Farfetched.

Pretty Pretty


Good doggy

Cement crib

Pigeon frenzy

Got a call from Julio, he was out shopping for Mother’s day gifts and I shopped with him for a bit. Of course we hit the card and gift shops and after spending time in Farfetched I headed out to the street to wait. I ran into Steve Pierson a former executive director from my Wanker Banker days. He was with his wife Stacy and their darling daughter of 20 months, Abby. Steve is a nice guy, he grabbed my arm as I was headed out to wait and got my attention. He and Stacy moved to Hoboken a few years ago. He’s a really nice guy, a bit right wing but I don’t hold it against him.

Looks great in a suit and tie though, really woof. I did have a chemically fueled discussion over cigars and drinks (I was fueled he wasn’t) at a holiday party a few years ago. About Bush. He was for him, and guess who wasn’t? I think I’ve been proven right, but it didn’t come up. They left and I wished Steve’s wife a happy Mother’s Day.

Julio bought all the proper things for Mother’s Day, presents for his wife who’s a new mom, a card from their son for Mother’s day and as well as for his grandmother, Julio’s mom. Julio told me he was going to be an uncle, his sister Maria is having twins. Baby crazy I tell you. None for me thanks.

Pimpin’ ain’t easy

Don’t Play That Song

Well it’s an early posting today, so far at least. It also a rainy wet day. Nothing but rain. No mater how you dressed you were going to get wet. Last night I watched Daily Show and Colbert Report. Daily Show had Hank Hill’s father on it, Cotton Hill. No wait, that was John McCrazy. I couldn’t watch it so I played music while the old coot rambled on and on about what a nice guy he is. We know he’s a nutter and not trustworthy. And by we, I am including or incriminating you, dear reader.

So far I’ve missed three weeks of My Name is Earl and Scrubs. I have them recorded so there’s not much to worry about in that department, if worry is the right word to use. I did watch The Office which hit the degree of being uncomfortable that it used to. That humor which is funny yet makes you squirm. Job fairs and golfing were the themes, with Michael making one’s skin crawl accordingly.

30 Rock was near madcap brilliance of course and that was due to Alec Baldwin once again with support from Matthew Broderick as well as Dean Winters playing Liz Lemon’s low rent on again off again boyfriend. No one can play sleaze quite like Dean Winters. And good old Kenneth trying to get to the Beijing Olympics with help from Jenna was cute.

After that was Lost which was pretty good, minimal Jack which is usually a good thing. Too convoluted a plot line to get involved with here, so I recommend you go to the Entertainment Weekly website for recaps and theories about the episode. Way too myriad for me. Went to bed, woke up not wanting to get out of bed but since I arranged for Lydia to have the day off so she can spend time with her Japanese Brazilian boyfriend, I had to go in.

For the first hour it seemed that I would be solo but as the morning progressed one or two people trickled in. A total of 5 people came in out of 10. Around noon, Vivek made an appearance, saying that I could go home around 2PM. I stayed until 3PM. I asked him about the receptionist position and he said yes, we would need one for the summer.

Then I told him what Greg Stevens had to say about it yesterday and he effectively turned the matter over to Tom Chin who once again doesn’t know what the fuck he is talking about. So the ball is still up in the air vis a vis Juan working for me during the summer. Sorry Juan, no definite answer yet.

So I left at 3PM, hopped on the E train to the bus terminal where I got in the queue for the bus which was surprising to see so many people who had also left work early. Luckily I got a seat, unluckily I almost got an eye poked out by a umbrella with a jerk attached to it talking to his friend about the most mundane topics. Perhaps if the subject were more interesting I wouldn’t mind getting stabbed in the eye.

He was so annoying that I got off the bus a stop early just to get away from him. I didn’t mind walking in the rain and I noticed he got out at the next stop. I could see his gigantic red and white umbrella in the distance as he tried to mange walking with an umbrella and talking on a cell phone at the same time. I easily overtook him as he fumbled. Made it home, dried myself off and here I am. That’s about it for now.

No one except for dear Harpy commented on the MOJO letter, he being just as confused by the header as I was. I emailed MOJO about it this afternoon, no reply as of yet.

Ego Tripping Out

It’s Thursday though last night I could have sworn it was Thursday which would make today Friday but it isn’t, it’s Thursday and that’s a drag. It happens from time to time, getting a little ahead of myself on occasion. Today was a day of fiasco’s. Bill asked me to drop off a power supply for his laptop at his office on my way to work this morning. That was no problem. The actual problem was I brought the wrong power supply. I thought he needed the one with the Apple logo on it but no. So I have to bring the one Bill actually needs which is no big deal, not even a hassle since it’s on the way.

I watched two documentaries on PBS last night, the first was a new documentary on Marvin Gaye. Great story, deserved more than an hour, though I guess that is where Jesse Martin comes in with his bio-pic of Marvin in the works. Should be an interesting scene of Marvin on the beach in Hawaii trying to kill himself by snorting many grams of cocaine. A troubled life for the trouble man. Great clips throughout the show of Marvin in his uneasy prime. What a sexy guy he was but couldn’t dance for shit.

The other documentary was about Aretha Franklin which had even better clips from the sixties, but it was a documentary from the late eighties it seemed. Keith Richards was in it for a minute or two and he looked still alive. Still there were some clips of Aretha live that sent chills up my spine. A friend of mine and I had a plan a few years ago to drive to Detroit just to hear Aretha sing in her church. Obviously it never came to fruition, never making it to Motown.

Work was ok. Nothing much to report. The bookkeeper was back after a bout with cancer which seems to be in remission and that was good to hear. She’s a buffer of sorts between me and Tom Chin. I was planning on trying to get Juan a summer job in my office, but as usual communication is up to me. A month ago I mentioned that there might not be a need for a receptionist and Vivek said there would be.

Today I mentioned it to Greg Stevens and he said there would be no need. So I figure I have to get a definite answer so in case it doesn’t go well Juan could figure out something else to do. Greg cited the cost, but it wouldn’t be much of a cost since it’s the same as we are paying Lydia presently. I’ll find out more about that tomorrow.

I also dealt with the insurance company and NYU dental school, who didn’t have me in their records. At least the first of several numbers I had dialed. Then the same thing with the insurance company. It turns out they did send a check for the scaling and planing they had done on my left side of my mouth. But they sent it to NYU and not me.

NYU does the work and collects money from me. That’s it. All insurance paperwork has to be done my me, not the dental school. They’ve already gotten my money, and now my check covering a little bit more than 50% of what I paid which is better than nothing.

Serenity now!

Oh forgot this nice little bit. I had a letter published in Mojo Magazine. It was actually the second time they’ve published a letter, or rather email that I’ve sent. This month’s issue, #175 with Slash on the cover. I don’t like Slash. In the UK it was Paul Weller on the cover. My letter was about the previous month’s switch of covers for a US readership. Instead of a great picture of one of my all time favorite bands ever, The Specials, they had Neil Young. Great songs, but let’s face it, he’s a geezer. The Specials, interracial, young and handsome with a great political slant are much more easy on the eyes.

My letter is under the heading “We thought you were inferior” and the letter goes as follows:

I love you MOJO, I really do. I buy your magazine every month. I was driving the newsagents crazy insisting MOJO 174 had the Specials on the cover. Then I saw Neil Young instead. I like Neil Young, but I got so much more from my beloved Specials. Just disappointed in the switch. I know you have to do it in the US since Neil is more famous that Jerry, Terry and co. And I still love you.

What do you think about that? I had to admit, I thought it was great as I laughed out loud.
But that headline…
What do you think it means?

Please check out this link from the wonderful Dan Savage. Cut n’ paste:

This Is What We Find

Ok, a pretty good day. Teeth still in the head, some money still in the bank. Bill came home to my surprise last night. Unfortunately he called during the big revelation during Lawn hor d’oeuvre SVU so I have to admit I was distracted. He noticed my lack of enthusiasm, but when the killer is about to be revealed and to get a phone call… well, I hung in there and paused the show thanks to the gadgetry of modern cable TV. And was it worth the pause? No. This is the second week where it seemed they were stuck for an ending.

Last week they had Robin Williams jump in the river and never looked for his body. This week, the 98 lb. killer took her unrequited love who weighed lets say, 170 lbs and jumped off the edge of a building ending the show with Stephen Collins screaming “No!” as his son landed on a car several stories below. Next week is the season finale which looks to be extra lame. I went to bed after the news, Bill stayed up watching David Letterman.

I woke up earlier than I had been since clients were coming into the office for a breakfast meeting, meaning I get a free breakfast. I asked Lydia to come in early and offered her a free breakfast, but she ate already. The people that came in were nice, I had met them before. Slowly the office is coming to life. Moe Stooge sat in his soon to be rented office and grunted a few times as I walked by. I guess I am now ‘the enemy’. He’s a dick, and a tiny dick at that.

Spoke with dear Connie. She’s been sick for a while, she got the lupus. She was able to get herself together to make it to a party in Manhattan a few weeks ago and I admit that I was hurt that I didn’t get a chance to see her, but then again I wasn’t invited to the party. She told me she has been off her meds since they didn’t seem to be helping, but after a considerable amount of time, she’s going back on them. There are some days she can’t even get out of bed, and it seems out of most of her friends I am the only who doesn’t give her a hard time when she doesn’t answer the phone. I can be the forgiving type.

It’s hard to believe but I haven’t seen Connie in a few years, and this summer seems unlikely since Annemarie and company aren’t making it to NJ this year, and Julio and Stine now have Alexander to consider, effectively making me the number 2 baby, so no beach days I guess. Wah wah wah.

On one of my errands I saw someone I used to work with 25 years ago. Just a guy from the mail room, Lloyd I think his name was. He didn’t recognize me and for an instant I thought about introducing myself but changed my mind. I figured there would be too much catching up on who was dead, who’s alive what’s what so I kept on walking. Perhaps if I saw him again I’ll say hello. Perhaps.

Had a good ride home, reading Christopher Hitchens, ‘God is not Great’. I love it, I’m chuckling throughout. Hitchens can be a boor, but he is erudite and occasionally funny. And I appreciate his take on religion. As I was climbing the stairs, I heard an infant crying. It was Alexander Frederick Sorensen Lopez! With his mom, dad and Grandma who is going back to Denmark with Grandpa tomorrow. Alexander was hungry and just like his father, incorrigible.

No, Alexander is not incorrigible. He’s a sweet little angel with quite a head of hair coming out. I saw that a package came from Arcata arrived and I handed it to them. But Alexander was hungry and you don’t get between a Lopez and their food so I quickly took a few snaps and made a hasty exit to the fifth floor.

And here are those snaps.

Alexander Frederick Sorensen Lopez for President!