Monthly Archives: June 2009


Well here I am again, writing an entry on Bill’s Mac. I can’t seem to get a connection on my computer and since Bill’s was available here I am.

Let’s see, last night was a late night posting, saw In The Heights, on Broadway and it is highly recommended. Also posted pictures from last night, going so far as to take a picture inside the theater, but it was during the curtain call and not during the performance.

Today I woke up early, around 6:30. Got out of bed, Bill was on his way out, off to work. I knew Greg Stevens had his boss from Los Angeles coming in and Greg had thought it might be a good idea to meet him so that Greg might entice him to get me on the payroll.

That meant it would be good if I got in the office before Greg. I showered and was out the door before 8:00, making it into the office before 9:00.

On the way to the office I saw Tom Chin, but since I got a haircut yesterday he didn’t recognize me and I was ok with that since I didn’t want to see Tom Chin at all, at least not getting paid to see Tom Chin.

I thought today might have been my last day and technically it was. Greg Stevens gave me a going away card saying they would miss me being in the office. Vivek came in, very tired and looking like hell.

Actually looking like he had too much fun on Gay Pride weekend, but that isn’t the case since the guy is as straight as 6:00.

I finally was able to sit with the intern, Neela who is very nice and can’t stand Abby either. She’s going to be doing the things that I was doing with the movie boxes whereas I will just run the rest of the office.

The plan is to pay me in Cafe Press T-Shirts, come in for a few hours during the week and get paid in cash. It’s a decent plan I think, if it comes to fruition. We’ll have to see about that.

I did put out the word that today could be my last day and my brother, good old Brian suggested eating a burger in front of Vivek as a possible affront to Vivek’s Hindu sensibilities.

But things seem to be working out ok, but like I said, we’ll see about that. It certainly felt like a weight off my shoulders knowing at least that the movie box days are over.

I will file for unemployment tomorrow, making it certain that my days of official work are over with the end of June. It’s an interesting and a little unnerving but then again a lot of things are.

On a different note, I did mention to Rand a few weeks ago that I should get a new computer. He agreed.
I don’t know if that meant a new ‘New’ computer or if he had a refurbished one lying around. Now that unemployment is looming on the horizon money is certainly tight.

I could scrimp and save I suppose and get a decent Dell but of course I hold Rand in such high esteem that I would like to pick his brain regarding whatever suggestions he might have.

Bill’s Mac sure is fast though. Maybe I could just use this until then…..

The Peanut Vendor

Late posting tonight. But I have a good excuse, no really I do! Bill and I went out for his birthday today. I had off from work today. Just 2 more days of real work then I guess I’m on the dole.

Today I slept in, until 10:00 and got myself together and set about running errands. I had a schedule to follow since we had tickets to a Broadway show, In The Heights.

Bill had laundry to be picked up so I did that for him. I ran into Stine and Alexander who was fascinated by a string on a tree. Also stopped by the Guitar Bar where I lent Jim Mastro the Brian Eno biography I just finished.

It was a beautiful day once again, no rain. I headed into the city and wandered around before meeting up with Bill at 6:30.

I was early and so was Bill. That was nice. We walked around Times Square before heading into John’s Pizzeria on 44th Street. It’s the midtown branch of the John’s Pizzeria on Bleecker Street.

This is a nice place, high ceilings and loads of tourists. Good pizza though. I really like the stained glass ceiling.

I also spoke to the waiter and told him it was Bill’s birthday and had 2 slices of chocolate cake, one with a candle on it. No singing from other customers just me and Bill doing a quick run through. A few pints of Guinness were involved as well.

I was lucky and surprised that I was able to keep Bill out of the loop with regards to the show we were seeing. A few weeks ago on PBS we watched a documentary on the making of In The Heights, which won the Tony Award for Best Musical in 2008.

There’s nothing quite like seeing live theater and this was a very special show. We both loved the documentary but I didn’t think about getting tickets for the show until last week.

I get email subscriptions for some Broadway ticket discount groups and In The Heights was having a special. Orchestra seats for about $50.00 a ticket which is quite a bargain these days.

I had seen the commercials for In The Heights on TV and you can feel the emotion of it’s creator Lin-Manuel Miranda in the ad. Maybe it’s because he just won the Tony, but hey, the guy followed his dream which took him to the Great White Way.

He’s not in the show anymore but his replacement Javier Munoz did a very good job

Did a better job than Paul Simon’s The Capeman too. Also Justina Machado is in the play, she played Fernando’s wife on Six Feet Under. Man, she could sing!

Just a great, fun and moving show. Gets close to cliché but doesn’t cross that line. In fact there were one or two times I found myself getting misty during some songs.

Really a well done show that both Bill and I enjoyed very much. Bill also thanks the many friends that sent him birthday greetings.

A nice walk to the bus terminal where we both helped a little old lady across the street. Really, we did. Another splendid day, all for Bill which was quite nice.

So far we’ve seen shows both on and off Broadway for the past three years. In 2007 we saw Passing Strange at the Public Theater. That was really good.

Last year we saw Xanadu which was a lot of fun and also a thrill having seats on stage. We’re doing our bit keeping theater alive, as are the thousands of tourists roaming around. If you get a chance, see In The Heights.

Or visit Harpy in the heights, and I’m sure he will do his interpretive Anglicized version of it. You might have to ask nicely. Or merely ask.

Bill's Birthday 2009 001a
Bill's Birthday 2009 004
Bill's Birthday 2009 003
Bill's Birthday 2009 007

Who Is It?

Well today has been a most pleasant kind of day. Last night was a pretty good night as well. Juan had conked out on the couch and when Bill came home he just moved into the bedroom while Bill and I watched the endless stream of Michael Jackson videos and reports.

It was entertaining and called for some good discussions about Michael. How good looking he was as a young man and then- what the hell happened? In that mug shot from 2005 he looked like Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford.

It’s a shame he hated his face so much. Just looking at him during the Off the Wall era he is freakin’ adorable.

We got Juan up in time so Bill could go to sleep and then I kicked his sleepy butt out. No fire detectors going off, all was well.

Woke up around 10:00, did a lot of walking around Manhattan with Juan yesterday plus coming down from my ecstatic adventure on Friday night lead to a very good night’s sleep.

Bill was off to church. He did mention on Friday night walking in the parade with his church on Sunday and in my condition I was very surprised, but yesterday I decided to do it.

To my chagrin last night he decided not to join the parade. It’s his mother’s birthday today (Feliz cumpleanos Elena!) and he wanted to spend time with her after taking her to church. That was more than fine with me.

I got up and had some coffee and went out for the papers. More Michael Jackson videos and reports as well as the print media coverage. I did go out again and walked to Tunes to pick up something for Julio’s birthday.

My first intention was Dark Was The Night, but they didn’t have it in stock. Instead I got a used copy of Bob Dylan’s Tell Tale Signs. I burned a copy of Dark Was The Night, and since I missed Stine’s birthday last month I burned her a copy of The Essential Michael Jackson, figuring since she’s European she probably liked him a lot more that Julio.

Hopefully I’ll get the discs to them tonight. Bill is napping. We’re going to go out for dinner in about a half hour, and then we’ll walk over to the river to watch the fireworks for NYC Pride 2009. It’s the first year that Bill and I didn’t march or do anything in a while.

And this being the 40th Anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising you’d think we would have done something, but we didn’t. We’re tired. Not to make excuses but we have participated in demonstrations throughout the year.

I did have a last minute thought about joining the Gay Bloggers contingent, aptly numbered as Section 8, but it was too late to motivate. Instead I rode about 5 miles around Hoboken which was good.

I’m going to have to wake Bill up in a few minutes so we could go out to eat. I may be posting some pics later so have a peek in a few hours to see what the world of Hoboken looks like tonight.

Or don’t.

Wearing Juan's Rachel Maddow glasses

Wearing Juan's Rachel Maddow glasses

The Birthday Boy (actually tomorrow)

The Birthday Boy (actually tomorrow)

Jim Mastro, Bill & the funniest girl in the world, Meghan Taylor

Jim Mastro, Bill & the funniest girl in the world, Meghan Taylor

Pride fireworks 2009 008Pride fireworks 2009 025Pride fireworks 2009 029Pride fireworks 2009 009Pride fireworks 2009 011

Wanna Be Starting Something

Well it’s the day after. Last night, after I wrote I took a nap, meaning I lay in bed for about an hour closing my eyes and telling myself that I was sleeping.

I was rested somewhat and some more nap time could have helped but I had enough of that. I busied myself in the apartment, Bill eventually came home with a Subway sandwich for his dinner. I convinced him to take the nap then eat the sandwich when he woke up.

He’s lucky. It seems that as soon as his head hit’s the pillow he is out cold but easily awoken. He slept for a couple of hours. Juan called stressed out from having dinner with his relatives. I told him to chill out, just get here and we’ll be fine.

Bill eventually woke up and I tried getting him pumped up about going out, playing Michael Jackson high energy hits. I was apprehensive earlier in the week but last night I was raring to go.

Took a while for Bill to fully wake up but he did and we were on our way around 11:00. Now that’s something I rarely do anymore, go out at 11:00. I used to do that all the time. We met Juan at the Path station and waited on the platform.

Juan had some absinthe as well as a special little tablet of which I indulged once again. Bill abstained of course. So Juan and I sampled some magic as well as some absinthe and we were feeling good by the time we reached the other side of the river.

It was a nice night, the three of us chatting and laughing on the way. We had gotten to the club with no problem a little after midnight. I expected a line but we sailed right in, following Juan’s lead and me clinging to Bill’s hand.

Up the stairs, handing in the tickets, Juan checking some clothing at the coat check. The Killers were playing, or rather Rich Morel was playing his remix of the Killers and once again we followed Juan directly to the middle of the dance floor.

Now on the way to the club, Bill offered his thinking about what he likes to do when he goes out dancing. Just hang out and wait till you hear a song that you like. There was no waiting for the song, we just followed Juan.

It was a good song, the name of which escapes me. For me, the tablet was kicking in hard on an empty stomach and all was well.

Of all the times I had gone out late at night, I had never actually gone out dancing. Concerts, spoken word performances, but never dancing.

I figured the tablet would help me out with the groove and it did for a while. We ran into wonderful Andy on the dance floor and I asked him where the bars were.

He pointed me in the right direction and somehow Bill and I made it through the crowd of bears. I got a bottle of water and Bill got an Absolut Cranberry.

We looked around and I was overwhelmed. A few minutes before I was on the dance floor grooving and then it was all too much. I was still feeling good but needed some air.

Bill followed me out after getting stamped and outside the air was fresh, and it wasn’t crowded. We crossed the street and I sat on some stairs. I could hear the music from where Bill and I were.

Bill asked if I was alright and I told him I was but I couldn’t go back inside. I was mighty peaceful and the thump thump thump of the music and the room full of guys was too much for my delicate self.

Bill asked what we should do about Juan. I texted him twice but in my condition I didn’t realize that he was in a very similar state and wouldn’t be answering text messages in the dance floor.

Bill offered to go in with a message so I told him that I was outside having a bad trip. It wasn’t a bad trip but Juan would at least have an understanding about what was going on. He came out with Bill, and I reassured him that I was ok but couldn’t deal with the crowd.

Juan was staying and that was cool, Bill and I left and headed back to the Path train. It was beautiful night and we had seats on the train riding up to 33rd street and back to Hoboken, me feeling great, air conditioned and chatting with Bill.

We walked along the riverfront and Pier A, coming home eventually. We settled in domestic bliss, enhanced on my end. I played Discreet Music by Brian Eno on repeat. It certainly worked well enough that I chilled out and was able to go to sleep around 2:30.

At around 3:30 Bill was in the room. Apparently all the fire detectors in the building were going off, not that I could hear them. It was figured out that a hot water heater broke on the second floor which set off the fire detectors.

The fire department were summoned and they checked it out. Everyone in the building was out on the street except for me. I started to head down but on the first flight down in the darkness the beeping from the detectors stopped so I felt there was no need for me to go any further.

I did stay awake for Bill to come back and went back to bed. Juan called a little while after that asking if he could come over. I said yes and set him up on the couch. Bill was leaving at 8:00 in the morning so after he left I moved Juan into the bed.

Eventually I woke up around noon, still feeling good and did some laundry. Juan got up and went home to shower, coming back a little while later where we headed into the city to Bear Hill overlooking the Skate Circle.

A beautiful day to spend in Central Park, perfect weather to recover from the events of the night before. Now we’re all here again, Juan taking a nap in our bed and Bill on the couch watching Michael Jackson videos.

That’s about it. A fun night, different from the original plan. So nightclubbing isn’t it for me, I’d rather go to a show, a concert or just chill out somewhere. Had to find out somehow I guess.








Ahh, it’s Friday. This five day work week, it’s something I haven’t done in a while. Of course, Vivek calls me up this morning around 9:30. He needs to speak with me. Says he’ll be in an hour.

He shows up around noon.

Oh so cute that Indian Standard Time. We talked, my last day is June 30. Actually July 1, since Greg Stevens would need my help both days. It’s ok, I like Greg.

Michael Jackson is playing everywhere, though I expected to hear it on WCBS FM Oldies last night when I went to bed, instead I heard Hotel California by the Eagles.

Maybe it was a commentary, saying that Michael Jackson could check out anytime he’d like but he could never leave the Hotel California.

I’m stressed of course. At work I was extra busy. Planned on leaving at 2:00, left at 4:30. Damned Indian Standard Time!

There are people moving in on Monday and since I will be out and Vivek is inept, I had to make all the necessary arrangements, reserve freight elevator, prepare and send off the certificate of insurance.

And Vivek being Vivek was not forthcoming with the information making me double back and send off the needed paperwork a few times. Then he left with Abby, someone he says he can’t stand.

Vivek did have a plan for me to come in for a day or two during the week to make sure things are running and in stock. I am supposed to be paid in slightly used underwear the which is fine. It would be nice to have some supplemental cash. Forget about the flat screen TV he supposedly offered me a few weeks ago.

I have been bringing home some things for the past few weeks and also filled a beach bag with some stuff.

Tonight is the night that Juan, Bill and myself are going to Blow Off. Juan was good at getting me psyched the other night and Bill is into it. Disco naps are in order since we won’t be going out until later.

I’m stressed from earlier today so a nap should help me out. I know Bill is planning on napping as well. Juan is having dinner with his dad and also bringing a bottle of Absinthe afterwards.

That should be interesting. Never had that before. Bill will be dancing and taking pictures and looking after Juan and myself (I Hope). Thats in case Juan and I get crazy, Bill will have his feet on the ground.

I just need to psych myself up. And last night I bought from iTunes, the Essential Michael Jackson, a 2 disc set (download) of his big hits, including the Jackson 5 and the Jacksons as well as a duet with Paul McCartney.

No State of Shock with Mick Jagger or Scream with his sister Janet though. They just announced on the news that the few record stores that are left have sold out of most of Michael Jackson’s stuff, except for his Metal Machine Music.

No wait, that was Lou Reed. I always get the two confused. Lou Reed was the one that sang, ‘I Want to be Black’, not Michael Jackson

It still is a bit of a shock that he’s dead. Michael Jackson that is. Rumors are out that it was a shot of Demerol which did him in.

Also rumored is that Michael Jackson’s share of the Beatles catalog will go back to Macca. That would be incredibly generous.

Where would Yoko fit in on this? Would Paul share with her? Sony/ATV has the other half of the catalog so that would be a battle since they wouldn’t give it up that easy.

Time for my disco nap.

Right now it’s dark out. Thunderstorm approaching, and it’s supposed to be gone by 8:00 which is good. The line for Blow Off stretches around the block and who wants to stand in the rain?

pics of the Names Project/AIDS Quilt 2009

Names Project 2009 1
Names Project 2009 2
Names Project 2009 3
Names Project 2009 4
Names Project 2009 5
Names Project 2009 6

Never Can Say Goodbye

Well David Bowie did not show up at the Ian Hunter show which went on according to schedule. Joe Elliott from Def Leopard was there instead.

This just in, Michael Jackson has died at age 50. Wow that is big news. He was gigantic for a while there, still is around the world.

A month of concerts scheduled for the O2 arena in London are now scrapped, so those thousands of tickets are now collectors items.

Not the same as a ticket to Elvis Presley’s (Michael Jackson’s late father in law) last scheduled concert but close enough.

Harpy left a message on my voice mail, livid that Michael Jackson’s death was being compared to John Lennon’s death. That’s upsetting, there is no comparison. Lennon was assassinated outside of his home. Not the same thing, not close at all.

Harpy reminded me of how when we worked together at 2 Park Avenue, we shut down the office to watch Martin Scorsese’s video of Michael Jackson’s Bad, a 20 minute video. About 25 people hunkered down to watch a video.

Right now, LA Reid is on Dateline and saying that no one did what Michael Jackson did. I beg to differ, Elvis Presley did it better, and personally for me,the Beatles did it waaaay better. Both were more influential that Michael Jackson.

What the hell does LA Reid know anyway? He’s merely a record executive.

He was certainly talented and certainly a fucked up person. He got off the hook a few times with regards to the molestation charges and now that he’s dead I’m sure more will be heard about that.

Also Farrah Fawcett died today after a long battle with cancer. That was sad.

Can’t say I watched Charlie’s Angels that much, though being a child of the seventies it was on my radar. In my freshman year of high school while on the spring track team at Paramus Catholic I did have a picture of Farrah in my locker.

I was just trying to fit in by lying and to have a picture of some hunk in my locker just wouldn’t do.

Last night I watched an excellent program on PBS about Music and the Brain. Oliver Sacks was in it of course as well as a few other people including Richard Hawley and from Pulp, Jarvis Cocker, 2 British musicians.

Neither made it big on this side of the pond but Jarvis Cocker did make some headlines about 10 years ago when he invaded the stage at the Brits awards while Michael Jackson was performing as some Messiah figure surrounded by children.

Jarvis Cocker made some rude gestures and threw 2 fingers up in Jackson’s direction. Jarvis became a hero to most in the UK music scene, Jackson’s fans were upset and the Jackson camp threatened to sue, like most messiahs do.

Now Al Sharpton is being interviewed by Keith Olbermann saying that Michael Jackson started We Are The World and no one ever did anything like that before. For me, Do They Know It’s Christmas rings a bell, as does The Concert for Bangladesh.

Maybe it’s a black/white thing. I didn’t see the influence of Michael Jackson, didn’t see kids picking up guitars or keyboards and forming bands trying to be like Michael Jackson. Wearing one glove perhaps.

I did make it to see the Guitar Bar All Stars tonight. Jim was as good as ever. Chaz stopped by as did Lois and Fred & Rand and Lisa. Rand and I pulled out a big chunk of Styrofoam out of the Hudson River.

All in all, a nice night, no rain with some good friends. Here’s some pics!

Mr. Nice Guy, Jim Mastro

Mr. Nice Guy, Jim Mastro

Mr. Wonderful

Mr. Wonderful

6.24.09 Hoboken 008

6.24.09 Hoboken 010

The Styrofoam

The Styrofoam

6.24.09 Hoboken 013

a moon for Farrah

a moon for Farrah

Hymn for the Dudes

It’s Wednesday and once again it’s raining out. Well, not at this very moment but it’s been pouring then stopping then pouring again.

My plan to see Ian Hunter (featuring Mr. Nice Guy Jim Mastro) has been literally washed out. I signed up to receive a text from River to River which is the organization that puts on these shows, but no response regarding the show.

If you go to the River to River website it doesn’t say anything about the show being moved, canceled or rescheduled.

Many people have posted on how much rain is falling, but as of 17 minutes before show time, nothing. I was planning on meeting Meghan and her daughters at the show, but things being the way they are, I called a few times and left messages.

No response at all. Oh well.

I held up my end. Tomorrow, provided it doesn’t rain is another opportunity to see Jim Mastro and the Guitar Bar All Stars but no Ian Hunter. C’est la vie.

Today I was a bit busy. Running errands for myself. Since Bill, Juan and I are planning on going out on Friday night, I bought tickets for Blow Off. That’s what it’s called.

It’s a DJ thing with Rich Morel and Mr Happy Go Lucky himself, Bob Mould. That was sarcastic. Calling Jim Mastro ‘Mr. Wonderful’ is not sarcastic.

I remember hanging around Bob Mould at McSwells back in the day with Husker Du as well as during his solo stuff. Wouldn’t say he was a grump but not much fun to be around. He had too many demons I reckon.

Things were slow enough in the office that I hopped on a train to go to Chelsea and pick up the tickets at a charming establishment called The Nasty Pig. It was $10.00 cheaper if you bought the tickets in advance.

I asked for 3 tickets and of course the guy behind the counter didn’t have change. ‘There’s a deli around the corner so you could get change there’ said the twink.

I walked around the corner and wound up buying a bottle of seltzer, mocking the twink’s tone of voice to myself which brought me some enjoyment. Actually I sounded like Pedro making fun of me, which made me laugh to myself.

The twink was apologetic, but all I could think of was when I was in a similar position I made do with what I had, but then again I was never caught short when selling tickets for McSwells or whatever.

Now it is overcast and it looks like it will rain again. It’s too bad. I was hoping to make it to the show. Meghan did call this morning, she was getting me backstage so that would have been fun. But I made my mind up and now I’m home drying out and comfortable.

Whatever happened to my Rock and Roll? The sun is shining now, the show is probably going on as planned. I need TV but I got T Rex.

The show is in Tribeca. Bowie lives in Tribeca. Bowie and Ian Hunter are friends. Hmmm.

Bring on the Lucie

It’s another Tuesday. No big deal. Another day of the clock crawling at work. Not much for me to do. Well the things I did today was open and distribute some mail, give Greg Stevens my own key card to get in and out since he left his at the airport last week, so I go in through the back door.

Also I answer the door bell and occasionally try to find whomever ordered food, even if it’s in the middle of my lunch.

I gave up after yelling ‘Who ordered Chinese food?’ and dialing the phone number on the bill which gave me voice mail. Since no one answered my phone call or responded to my yelling I sent the guy away only to find the food was ordered by one of the conservative doofai.

If it was a test to see if I could work with these idiots, then I probably failed.

There is just very little to do for me lately, Greg Stevens mentioned a fear of his that Vivek is going to fly the coop leaving Greg without an office space. I doubt if that will happen but Greg does know Vivek better than I do.

Vivek and Sanjay have hired an intern and she does more than I do. I guess my time is running out. Still the answers lay on the other side of the world.

Last night I got a call from Juan. Someone saw the picture below on his Facebook page and remarked that he saw Juan at Folsom East with some cigar smoking daddy. That would be me. Well to Juan’s friend’s credit it was Fathers Day, but me? I’m no daddy though I do enjoy cigars every now and then.

Weeds was good once again, a few twists and Justin Kirk still rules. No spoilers here. Nurse Jackie was also very good. Where is it going though?

We will have to wait and see. Anyway, Edie Falco is great in the show as is the rest of the cast. Bonus points for shooting in New York City.

I slept really well last night and the last dream I had before waking up this morning involved my late cat Zed. In the dream I had cloned Zed several times so there were a few black cats running around.

It was a sweet dream and I did not want to wake up from it though I obviously did.

Tomorrow night I think I am going to see Ian Hunter do a free show by Battery Park. Mr. Wonderful, Jim Mastro is playing with Ian Hunter so that means I’ll probably see Meghan and the girls.

Jim plays with Ian on tour a lot so it should be a fun show, especially since I’ve been somewhat interested in Mott the Hoople lately.

There is also a show on Thursday, sans Ian Hunter in Hoboken. Jim and Fred Smith (of Television) own the Guitar Bar and every year for the summer concerts in Hoboken they put on a themed show featuring the Guitar Bar All Stars.

Last year it was for the video game, Rock Band, or Guitar Hero. The year before that was the British Invasion with no Beatles or Rolling Stones songs allowed.

I don’t know what the theme will be this year but it does promise to be a lot of fun.

Just have to get through another agonizing day or two of clock crawling in the office.

Juan flashing Felician gang signs

Juan flashing Felician gang signs

Cigar Smoking Daddy not pictured

Born on A Bayou

Well it was back to work for me today. Nothing really happened, nothing to really write about. The mail was on my desk since people just didn’t know what to do with it while I was out.

Vivek and Sanjay are in India again. I did some snooping and saw they both got paid. Word from Vivek was that he hadn’t gotten paid in 3 months. Well a five figure amount should make him happy.

So who knows what’s going on? I don’t and the guy who actually might have a clue is now on the other side of the planet.

Last night was good but weird. Weird after drinking in the afternoon and then the come down during the night. Also weird since Bill gave up his Lawn hors d’eourve and stayed in the bedroom hunkered down over his laptop.

True Blood was good. That Maryanne. What’s her story? Ancient demon methinks. And Lafayette! What a story! That’s all I’m saying on that since I don’t want to be a spoiler.

Right now I’m so hungry, but not making dinner. I ran into Stine with Alexander on my way home. They were off to the park. Stine said she was making some dinner and was going to drop off a plate for me. That was more than fine with me.

Now Julio calls and it turns out I’m having dinner downstairs with the three of them. I’m looking forward it. Good to know that I won’t be the only one wearing a bib.

It rained a bit today, but not too much. Still it’s all hummus outside. I saw Chaz yesterday morning. He finally returned the Brian Eno/David Byrne CD, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today.

Not that I was jonesing for it. It was a bit of a letdown. That’s what I told the bartender at the Half King Bar yesterday. How once I got it and played it, I immediately lent it out.

Good old Chaz, always has some fresh music reading material, bless his heart. And it was nice of Andy to send me an email, telling me that Yes it is Howard, not Harold.

The two of them had a gay old time, much more social in those circles than me. I guess I am too standoffish. Not with Andy and Howard but with just about everyone else.

I did my best though. Will I go again? Unlikely. There is a plan about going out on Friday night, Bill, Juan and myself. Dancing if you can believe that.

We had been talking about it on and off for the past year or so and since Bill’s birthday approaches, in one week, it might be fun to do something over the weekend. Bill said he was into it, Juan is definitely into and me I am relatively ambivalent.

Time to go downstairs for dinner. Full review when I return.

And it was yet another Five Star Dinner by Stine, a beef stew which was way better than any stew that I’ve had before. I was never fond of my mother’s beef stew by the way.

Julio and I had polished off a bottle of wine, Stine had her Zinfandel and Alexander pointed and shouted a lot trying to get my attention. No more baby food for him!

It was a nice evening , very adult. Good times, good food, good people.

I came home with leftovers which I promptly reheated for Bill who had just gotten home. Now it’s time for this weeks Weeds and Nurse Jackie.


Another rainy day and I’m tired of writing that as you are probably tired of reading it. It’s a Sunday, just got back a few minutes after spending a couple of hours in Manhattan with Juan.

We checked out the Folsom East street fair which left me whelmed and I think Juan felt the same way. I had gone a few times before, this was Juan’s first visit.

Probably my last. It’s a bore, personally for me. Juan was catching an eyeful every time he’d crack his neck. It’s was raining on and off.

Before I caught up with Juan I hung out by the Half King Bar on 23rd Street where I sat inside having a pint and watching the rain fall outside..

Had a good chat with the bartender about Brian Eno and Talking Heads. At $4.00 a pint I was a bit chatty, even recommended the Eno biography that I finished last week.

A good happy hour as well as a buy back ensured a decent tip before Juan and I headed out to the street fest.

Ran into Andy and his buddy Howard (Harold?). Haven’t seen them since Chaz’ Holiday Party in January, though Andy and I keep up via email on B-52’s or Beatles info.

After that Juan and I had some food at the Moonstruck diner on 23rd Street and Ninth Avenue before heading to the Path train.

I hoped to make it home in time to watch True Blood but Bill had the TV privileges first and was watching Lawn Hors d’oeuvre Criminal Intent.

He graciously gave it up and went into another room. I tried to change it back to CI since he changed it to True Blood but he insisted that he wasn’t going to watch it anyway.

Last night I finally saw Slumdog Millionaire. It was very good actually. Danny Boyle did it again. I enjoyed Trainspotting and Slumdog Millionaire was almost as good as that. Very inventive storytelling.

Just finished with True Blood tonight. Quite good. So far this season has been more intense that last season. Sookie Stackhouse and her world, it almost makes me want to read the vampire series of books.

That’s not going to happen but it is engrossing enough.

Back to work tomorrow, back to limbo. None of the usual Sunday night anxiety, I guess that’s because the end is near. Not exactly in sight but it’s coming. I just wish they’d get it over with actually.

Since Juan is here and True Blood is over, Bil is in the next room on the laptop, I put on Weeds from last week, followed by Nurse Jackie. I think Juan will enjoy them both.

Right now I’m pretty sure the Guinness is slowing down tonight’s posting. It’s just not flowing as it usually does.

That’s not your concern of course, as I inch closer to the 500 word count. Yes, I’m filling space, killing time. Plus my typing skills are worth shit right now.

Typo city.

And of course I can’t use spell Czech. I have to go and correct every underlined word. But that’s that, and I’m over the 500 word count, so there.


Guess what? It’s raining again! 15 days of rain so far. And of course it’s been felt mainly on weekends. Saturday to be more precise.

I did go out for a walk earlier, umbrella close by. Just dreary and damp which doesn’t do my back any good. Stress from work and the crappy weather has been making my back act up.

The other night Bill and I watched True Love, by Nancy Savoca. It starred Annabella Sciorra and Ron Eldard as well as a few character actors from The Sopranos.

An independent film from 1989 concerning Sciorra and Eldard as a young couple about to be married. And they probably shouldn’t. I love Annabella Sciorra.

She played Gloria Trillo on the Sopranos, a fellow patient of Dr. Melfi that Tony Soprano has a fling with. She gets too close to the flame and winds up killing herself. She’s been on many other movies and TV shows so you’ve more than likely seen her somewhere.

Ron Eldard too, has been on countless shows and movies. What comes to mind is Deep Impact where he’s on the shuttle with Robert Duvall to blow up the comet and gets blinded when he looks into the sun.
True Love was a slice of life in the Italian communities in the Bronx, along Arthur Avenue.

Today the news was all about what is going on in Iran and despite the news blackout, information is getting out via social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter as well as videos being posted on YouTube.

Some gruesome imagery of people wounded or shot dead in the streets, footage of women being beaten by armed forces with batons.. People that were protesting despite their leader warning them not to lest they suffer his consequences.

And protest they did and the leader sent out his armed goons bashing heads and shooting people.

Here in the states, the right wing, specifically the neo-con artists are upset that President Obama is playing it cool, not encouraging the protesters. Of course these are the same assholes that got this nation into the shit hole that is Iraq, so of course they should be listened to, idiots like Paul Wolfowitz the arch-scumbag.

Today Bill and I watched a DVD of Paul McCartney live. I wanted him to have an idea of what a major rock concert is like, especially one with a former Beatles. Some clips from Rock Show, Unplugged and Paul at Glastonbury.

Bill enjoyed what he saw, had a few questions. Then he was off to do his acting thing and I stay at home with an achy back.

I did make it out to the library and picked up some DVD’s. The Life and Times of Allen Ginsburg, The Fall, which was recommended by Roda and directed by Tarsem.

He directed the Losing My Religion video for REM as well as the Cell which looked good but as far as plot, well…

I also picked up Network which is a classic 1970’s Paddy Chayefsky screenplay, directed by Sidney Lumet.

I saw this with my parents which was uncomfortable for all concerned. It was actually the last time I went to the movies with either of my parents. Network is oddly prescient with how television is today, especially the news.

Julio lent me Slumdog Millionaire which has to be returned tomorrow so I’ll probably watch that and see what all the fuss was about.

That’s about all for another rainy Saturday.

The Rain Song

Well it hasn’t rained today, at least not while I’ve been awake and I’ve been awake since about 8:30. It’s been a good run, since it’s now 5:34.

I’m listening to a playlist I’ve made on iTunes for Led Zeppelin, labeled Eat @ Blimpies. It’s quite humid out and listening to Robert Plant sing seems most apt.

I have a memory of this song from a few years ago, driving down to Sandy Hook with Stine, Annemarie and Earl. It was overcast in Hoboken but I think I got Annemarie and Stine into going anyway applying my wisdom in saying that it just might be different weather down there.

It rained a bit on and off as we were driving and The Rain Song was playing as we drove through various streets in search of the eventual blue sky.

Now Fool in the Rain comes on. I can play the basic bass line on this song. A small accomplishment.

It’s from In Through the Out Door. Which is dominated by the most underrated John Paul Jones since Jimmy Page was strung out most of the time.

You can tell since the guitar isn’t the main instrument. Nice Latin break in the middle eight.

I was never much of a Led Zeppelin fan, in fact I loathed them. I held to the punk ethos on that one. In grammar school when most of my classmates were discovering music, it was the ‘bad’ kids that listened to Zeppelin.

The ones who discovered sex and drugs and rock and roll before I did. I liked whatever was on the Top 40 then. If it was on Music Radio 77WABC I generally liked it.

Of course Elton was always there. Bowie was an alien to me, and some of the ‘bad’ kids got into him as well.

A lot of the music that I heard that wasn’t on the radio was from my brothers and sister. Frank played Mott the Hoople’s All the Young Dudes a lot for a while. Annemarie played Somethings Happening by Peter Frampton and Brian was undergoing some Brain Salad Surgery from Emerson Lake and Palmer.

And on top of that was the music my parents liked which was mainly Big Band stuff from the 1940’s.

Right now, Trampled Underfoot from Physical Graffiti is playing. That is a funky groove. One of the handful of songs that I like from that double album.

Bonham is going nuts on the drums. I played this once when I was DJ’ing at a bar on Washington Street in the last century.

No, not McSwells.

Slapani’s which is now something else. I was playing a lot of chill out music, some quiet jams, some light hip hop, when some townie comes up to me and asks me to play some white music.

‘But music has no color man’ is what I said.

He gave that look that matched the horn hanging around his neck. I dutifully played some white music, Zeppelin, which was almost entirely derived from black music, the Blues.

As John Paul Jones’ clavinet was percolating, Joe Neckbone strikes poses and plays terrible air guitar.

One of my last DJ gigs I believe. It certainly wasn’t fun anymore.

Wishing Well

It’s yet another rainy day. Woke up and it was pouring out. Last night it rained too. Rain rain rain. It’s tiresome. I hope it’s not like this when Annemarie and Earl come over from Arcata next month.

It’s always like this in Arcata and I think that coming east is an escape from that crappy weather for Annemarie and Earl. At the moment it has stopped raining but more is expected.

Last night was yet another mellow evening. Instead of the usual viewing fare, I watched The Public Enemy starring James Cagney and Jean Harlow.

It’s a classic, pre-code movie from 1931, the story of Tommy Powers rise to power in the world of criminal enterprise. I had never seen it before from start to finish and it was a good movie.

Just a little unbelievable was a scene where Cagney and his accomplice are running from a policeman who just shoots at them over and over while blowing his police whistle.

The chase goes around a corner where off camera the policeman is shot and Cagney and company run off.

It’s also the movie where Cagney smashes a grapefruit in a moll’s face. The moll by the way is not Jean Harlow but Mae Clarke. That is the classic scene.

As I watched the movie, there was a scene where Cagney and his buddy pay a visit to Putty Nose, someone who had done them wrong years before.

They want revenge and catch up with Putty Nose outside his home. They drag him in and Putty Nose realizes whats going on and tries to reason with them.

As I watched I wondered if that was where a line that was sampled by Coldcut on the remix for Eric B. and Rakim’s Paid in Full. ‘Back in the club, why you kids used to laugh at this song’.

Sure enough a minute later Putty Nose comes up with the line launching into the song and getting killed right before the chorus. I was surprised that I figured out where the line was from a moment before it was said.

Perhaps Tommy Powers mother was a little too loving, always willing to turn away when Tommy was up to no good, or when Tommy was getting the strap from his policeman father.

After that I watched some of Bill Maher from last week. I’m pretty sure that they use canned laughter a lot on the show since some of the jokes are just not funny at all.

And I’m not that fond of Bill Maher either, he’s too smarmy and way too fond of himself. PJ O’Rourke is another one I don’t get. He also laughs the hardest at his own jokes.

I’m sure he might have been funny back in the day when he was working at National Lampoon, but nowadays he’s merely a lampoon of himself.

The weather forecast is more rain. It’s supposed to be nice on Sunday, so no major bicycle ride on Saturday. Then again the weather forecast is wrong half the time but even that makes me wary. I suppose I will have to just wait and see.

Nothing to report on the work front. Nothing has changed. Still no info.

Tonight promises to be another quiet night. Which is better than pandemonium I guess. Bill just gave me the brush off, so maybe it won’t be so quiet after all.


It’s Wednesday. Not much to report on that. Last night Bill was with some theater friends down by the South Street Seaport. Stayed out and had a few drinks. That’s something that I used to do.

Not anymore, not me. I stayed in, watched The Daily Show, Colbert Report, Keith Olbermann and even some Rachel Maddow.

I also watched a PBS documentary on Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. How the armed forces are depleted but won’t take gays and lesbians. Other countries do, but not the US. Oh no, can’t have that.

They’ll take white supremacists and gang bangers before taking someone who can speak Arabic and could actually help out the situation.

They had some present day soldiers, faces blurred going off to Iraq, willing to die while living a lie for their country. Some sit ins were shown, gay & gay friendly college students who tried to enlist.

The police were called, complaining about how they had better things to do rather than deal with civil disobedience. A few clips of Bill Clinton who introduced Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (DADT) as well as the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA).

Both issues have been in the news lately and are also 2 of the main reasons why there will be a March on Washington in October. Obama made promises to overturn both, and yes he has a lot on his plate but these are matters that also affect families.

Of course he and the Democratic party don’t want to risk losing elections next year so the gays and lesbians are thrown under a bus once again.

In fact last week, the Justice Department argued against repealing the DOMA stating that Traditional marriage is between a man and a woman. No word from the White House on that, and the LGBT community has a massive flash of deja vu.

Today at work was really nothing special. I did very little work, not out of choice, just that there was not much for me to do. I do have some leads with regards to a new job. One is for a non profit staffing agency and the other is for another for profit staffing agency.

Greg Stevens told me he was putting out the word, asking if anyone needs a receptionist, which in a way is a step backward, but more than likely easier to get than an office manager position. Can’t be too choosy these days.

Good that I have some people looking out.

Today was like watching paint dry, and occasionally making a pot of coffee. And it crawled.

Now I’m home, got to the building the same time as Bill. That rarely happens. Even when we’re together I find a reason to hang back and let him arrive first.

No I don’t. Just being silly.

Another night of rain is promised. Can’t get enough of that wet stuff. Nothing planned for tonight. Bill is on a conference call in the next room.

I’m watching the Colbert Report, recorded from last night. Had a fun talk with Harpy. Less antagonistic than usual.

Only 1.5 sheets to the wind.

Limbo Rock

It’s a Tuesday. It was rather cool this morning and thought I’d wear a suit. No tie, casual. I listened to some 2 Tone on the way to the office which made me feel like an extra from the movie, Snatch. Or maybe a ‘Westie’.

Bill often mentions that I could pass for a ‘Westie’. For those playing at home, the Westies were an Irish gang on the west side on Manhattan who often ran afoul of the police and organized crime.

They’re generally romanticized on TV and in movies, but they were gangsters and killers who may have loved their mothers, but would have no problem killing yours.

I suppose I could have passed for one. A spring in my step, Madness, the Selecter and The Specials playing on the iPod. I probably could have gotten the part, if I only applied myself.

Oh, how many times was that written on my report cards, ‘If only he’d apply himself’. Unfortunately, after reading the report card, my father would apply the back of his hand to my head which drove me further away from any applications of the sort.

And also drove me further away from my father.

Last night was a good night once again. Bill came home and there was no Lawn Hors d’œuvre to watch so before we watched Weeds and Nurse Jackie, we watched Kathy Griffin instead.

She was alright, sometimes funny, sometimes annoying. Reminds me of Susan Shed somewhat. Bette Midler was her guest and that was OK.

Bette Midler is a little old lady. Raunchy on stage, but a short grouch off stage. She’s really tiny. I know I met her when she recorded Bette of Roses at a studio I worked at. I had to monitor her daughter Sophie while Bette recorded, making sure Sophie didn’t play in the elevator.

Bill & I watched Weeds which was good, and Nurse Jackie which was excellent.

On Weeds it seems Nancy is figuring out that she may have gotten in too deep, she keeps pissing off the wrong people. On Nurse Jackie, she’s maintaining a balance of self medicating but whoops, something did go slightly awry with that.

Today at work a few people asked how the interview went. I explained it was a meet and greet and they suggested that I wear a suit just in case they sent me out for an interview. It was all a lie of course but they seemed to believe it.

At least I didn’t have to kill off a dead grandparent.

My situation changes daily. Perhaps one of the sublets will take me on, perhaps paying me in mad scrotums while I oscillate wildly.

In any event, if I am somehow still working, I will need some time off to spend with Annemarie and Earl when they fly east in a few weeks.

I am getting away from the movie box/ hotel deal. Vivek says he’ll make up his mind on July 4 and odds are he’s leaving that job too.

And when I left today it seemed like I’ll be gone by the end of June. Then again that could all change tomorrow. I

t’s a fucked up situation and all I can do is just wait it out. And I’m not stressed about it. At least not right now.

In an hour or so who knows? I may have a sip from the well of despair, but right now I’m fine thanks.

Just Another Day

Well a thunderstorm just passed by. Lot’s of rain and it looks like that’s it for rain today. I could be wrong of course.

I’m home now, it’s 5:28. I’ve been home since 4:00. I left work early today. It’s demoralizing. Vivek and I talked very briefly. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s thinking about the baby that’s on the way.

He mentioned that he hasn’t been paid in three months. That make me want to be quiet about not being paid today. I am supposed to get paid on the 15th and 31st day of each month, but for some reason I wasn’t.

That was enough to make me want to go home early. I should be paid tomorrow but this is how this lack of organization goes on.

Another aspect of that, at around 10:45 this morning I get a call from Abby. He says there is an Indian woman outside the office building and would I go down and bring her upstairs? I wonder why this woman doesn’t just present herself at the security desk in the lobby and get a pass.

Sure enough, the door bell rings and it’s the Indian woman. She says she is supposed to be in the office at 11:00. Apparently she’s an intern and today is her starting date. So I set her up in a conference room.

She sat there playing on her Blackberry until 2:00. No one who told her to come in, came in. This is what I deal with every day.

Sanjay eventually came in and sat with her. I didn’t stick around, I left at 2:30. I told Vivek I had an interview. I didn’t but I like to think that I’m showing them how serious I am about getting out of there.

Vivek says he’ll make up his mind on July 4. A Saturday, as well as a Federal holiday as you well know. Doesn’t do me any good.

The way things are going, even though they (Vivek & Sanjay) said I could take time off when Annemarie and family comes to down, that doesn’t seem likely as it approaches.

I mean, will I get paid vacation time? Did I even take a vacation last year?

I also heard from the French Spaniard, he called. Asked if I had a chance to make some calls on the list and I answered, ‘What list?’

Oh it’s definitely a fucked up situation that I desperately want to be out of.

Last night was a good night. Watched some Lawn Hors d’oeuvre with Bill, then we watched the season premiere of the vampire show, True Blood.

Once again, very good, quite intense. The vampire Bill seemed to have a more pronounced southern accent this season. Good also to see some favorite characters making the cut this season which looks to be even nastier than last year.

Then we watched Entourage, followed by a half hour documentary on Edward Hopper on PBS, narrated by Steve Martin. Tons of Hopper paintings that I had never seen before. Also did not know that Edward Hopper was 6’7”. He is one of my favorite painters.

I was able to help Stine this morning get tickets for Paul McCartney at the new Mets stadium on the same date that I’m going. She’s taking Julio.

She was going to pay a lot of money through a ticket broker for what actually turned out to be the cheapest seats available. She gave me her card info and I was able to log in and eventually get seats, saving her hundreds of dollars.

So that’s going to be a fun night, right?

Chest Fever

Well finally a day without rain. For the past 7 or 8 days it has rained. Today was nice. Would have been nice for a bicycle ride, but I didn’t want to be all achy tomorrow, plus Central Park would have been really crowded since today was also the Puerto Rican Day Parade.

I stayed local today. Last night was nice. Didn’t watch TV until 12:30. Just wound up playing music for hours. Bill came home in the middle of it which made it more fun.

He fiddled around with his laptop as I sat at the computer going from Simon and Garfunkel to Silvio Rodriquez to Massive Attack to James Brown, finishing up with some Billie Holiday, James Moody, Wes Montgomery, Steely Dan and finishing with Brian Eno and David Byrne.

James Moody’s Moody’s Mood for Love was the closing theme for Frankie Crocker on WBLS in the 1980’s and Wes Montgomery’s Bumpin on Sunset was what my brother Frank used to end his radio show on WFMU years ago.

I was posting some of the track listing on Facebook, mentioning the Donna Summer/ New Order mix of I Feel Love & Bizarre Love Triangle was a mix I had heard years ago coming back with Julio and a friend of his from seeing a mutual friend in a production of Showboat.

The 3 of us were lysergically enhanced and when I heard the mix originally on Hot 97 I knew it was something I had to try. I did try the mix a few times and it’s always a fun thing to do. It was a happy memory, still fresh 20 + years later.

Went to bed soon after that. Slept ok, woke up with a headache. Dehydrated I think. No, I wasn’t drinking last night. I’m a social drinker I guess and since Bill doesn’t drink, neither do I. If I’m out with friends drinking, no problem.

Drinking alone, that’s a drag. I took one aspirin and went out to get some newspapers and coffee and some Stevia. Came home, Bill was off to church already, had a nice breakfast. Headache wouldn’t go away so I took another aspirin, and took a nap which helped somewhat.

Got a call from Julio. They’ve been spoiled, wondering what happened to the bagels this morning. Stine thought something might have happened.

Nothing happened, just that Bill picked up bagels from H&H in Manhattan on his way home last night and I didn’t feel like getting bagels for them when I wasn’t going to get any for myself.

Later I met up with Julio, Stine and Alexander on Washington Street. The toddler was sleeping as we walked up the boulevard, heading over for some time by the river where we watched a fisherman catch a 4 four striped bass.

Big fish, people were having their pictures taken standing next to it.

It’s amazing to see a human mind work. Watching Alexander as he tried to communicate over the past year, he points and makes sounds. He say ‘hey’ a lot and is fascinated by helicopters.

Not so much a 4 foot striped bass hanging from a tree. I preferred the helicopters myself.

Stine is going to try to get 2 tickets for Macca on July 17. She might have missed the pre-sale yesterday but tomorrow is the general sale and she might have a better opportunity then.

Back to work tomorrow. I guess I’ll find out what is going on, how long will I still be working there for. I look forward to finding out. Perhaps it will be my last week, or perhaps they’ll just do it by the end of the month. I do intend to talk to Vivek about it tomorrow.

Ain’t No Sunshine

Using the old school Open Office docs which is what I used to use daily. Then it wouldn’t behave like I wanted it to, and in a fit of artistic pique I moved over to Google docs. But here I am using this again. It just seemed so forlorn on my desktop, pleading for me to use it, see if there’s a spark, rekindle whatever it was that we used to have.

Well so far so good. I’m trying to clean up the desktop which has many things on it, effectively grabbing a lot of memory. So I’m moving things to disc to free up some space as well as deleting a whole bunch of stuff I haven’t used in a while, if ever.

Last night I met up with Bill and his friend Fred and his lady friend Lila. We met in front of the movie theater and caught the 8:15 showing of The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3. It’s a remake of the classic 1970’s movie starring Walter Matthau, Robert Shaw and Martin Balsam.

Not a very good remake.

For some reason it got some good reviews but I couldn’t see why. I was hoping to see John Travolta meet his fate the same way that Robert Shaw met his. Really it was THE main reason.

No Travolta fan here and his performance as Edna Turnblad in Hairspray: the Musical alienated me further from the former Boy in the Plastic Bubble.

The audience applauded but trainspotters like Bill and myself wondered how the action can go from 33rd Street to the Waldorf Astoria at 49th Street. A car chase scene that involves a cop car going off the overpass at Tudor City was bewildering.

I used to eat lunch in Tudor City years and years ago and it has not changed one bit, except for the flying, crashing cars. So many plot holes you could drive a subway car through them.

Despite all that it was a brilliant night to be out and about. Just wandering around Chelsea, so many interesting monsters.

I remember when people were considered tough to get tattoos, nowadays everyone and their Aunt Ditty has one. And such ornate designs, that you know will just get better looking as they age.

Much like the brawny former Marines that were in the VFW with my father. Those dark aqua blue splotches on their arms really told a story. What that story might have been I couldn’t tell you and neither could the splotches.

Cheers to those hardy souls with their entire arms covered in ink. I’m not putting tattoos mind you. Just the ones who go overboard.

Today was a gray overcast day. I decided to take a chance and make an attempt at my big ride up to the George Washington Bridge and over into Manhattan. As I stretched before riding the sun came out for a moment and I decided I was doing the right thing.

I rode over to the light rail station at Ninth Street and got on the elevator to Congress Street. As I rode over to Palisades Avenue the clouds were foreboding. Still I pedaled on up to Shippen Street where I stopped and thought for a while.

Shippen would get me back to Hoboken, but did I want to do that? The clouds were getting darker and I decided to ride down Hackensack Plank Road, towards Hoboken. But I didn’t feel like going back home so I rode around Weehawken on the waterfront. No one was around except for maybe 3 joggers.

It really sucks that New Jersey can’t get it together to create the river walk that they’ve been talking about for years, from Bayonne to Fort Lee.

If that was ever completed, or even started in some spots I would be doing that ride a lot more often. Manhattan has an excellent bike path. A little dodgy is some areas but nothing too bad.

But New Jersey? Fuggedaboutit.

Lame lame lame.

Bill figured out last night that I am taking him to see Paul McCartney at the new Mets Stadium. When we were watching TV at home after the dreadful movie, a commercial came up for the Macca concerts in July.

I think I showed too much restraint with my interest in the concerts. ‘Oh really? Interesting.’ Bill saw right through it, my showing of enthusiasm. It was the date that gave it away anyhow.

Weehawken Tree, Hudson River Sky

Weehawken Tree, Hudson River Sky



A view of Hoboken from Weehawken that I had never seen before

A view of Hoboken from Weehawken that I had never seen before


I’ve Just Seen a Face

Well it’s Friday. I’m off. A weird day overall. Last night and tonight the forecast was 100% hummus. And no pita for a good time. Just a strange, off day.

Last night was quiet, Bill attending a wake in the Bronx and me doing nothing much beyond writing. Watched more of the recorded Daily Show Colbert Report. Not much Scrubs these days. After watching most, if not all of the episodes over and over, I’ve opted for other things to watch.

Sometimes even playing music instead of the TV being on. When Bill is here I try to introduce new things for him to hear during commercial breaks. Then I ask him what he thinks of it and he generally likes it. Then again I am specific on what I play.

Certainly not the Fall, but rather along the lines of Ian Dury and the Blockheads. No Butthole Surfers, instead The Bird and the Bee. This is all new stuff Bill.

Last night my nephew Earl graduated from high school. A major accomplishment. Not that his graduation was in doubt- it wasn’t, but high school graduation is a major turning point in a young persons life.

And then there are the parties going on for a week or so afterwards. I graduated from high school in 1980 and it was certainly a different time for social mores at least.

After my graduation ceremony, I joined my family for cocktails at the VFW before heading off to another VFW in Fort Lee where another classmate was having a party. Smoking and drinking throughout the night and no one said otherwise to 17 year old me.

Definitely not the same for Earl and his graduating class, I’m sure. Sobriety is the theme for their night and good for them.

And congratulations to Earl!

Today was spent doing laundry and getting some things from the supermarket. That was about it. Now it’s not so hummus but earlier was just dense. Several t-shirts later, a nice breeze finally wafts through the screen.

I’m heading out in a while, off to meet up with Bill to see the Taking of Pelham 1-2-3. It’s a remake and the original is one of Bill’s favorite movies of all time. He tried to get cast in this go round but the director Tony Scott didn’t get Bill’s head shot.

Bill’s pal Fred and his lady friend Lila are joining us and we’re supposed to meet in front of the theater on 23rd street at 7:45, two hours from now.

I’m watching the second disc of The Buddha of Suburbia and not paying much attention to it. I did watch Black Narcissus earlier and I’m pretty sure I had seen that before. Just killing time I suppose.

I was able to get some tickets to a Rock Show in July. Geology is such a fascinating field. I’m taking Bill and Earl. For Bill’s birthday on June 29 and Earl’s graduation last night.

Pity the seats aren’t together. Someone will be on top, and someone will be close to the ground. Annemarie’s joining us as well so perhaps the 4 of us can swap tickets and seats if need be. That will have to be worked out on July 17.

Funny thing, instead of frantically trying to get the tickets when they went on pre-sale at 10:00 this morning, I didn’t get around to it until 10:20.

I’m satisfied, but then again I haven’t gotten the bill yet.

Roll With It

Last night was hum drum, ho hum. Came home, struggled with last night’s blog entry. Yes, it was a struggle. Not easy making this relatively interesting. You might think writing 500 words is a walk in the park, and sometimes it is, but last night was not one of those times.

I got through it though.

I watched the recordings of the Daily Show and the Colbert Report and both left me underwhelmed. And that was after watching Keith Olbermann. Didn’t watch Rachel Maddow. Just not in the mood.

Bill came home a little after 10:00, just in time to watch a show on PBS about Muslim comics in the US. It was a good show, the comics were generally funny, trying to present a more positive image of Muslims, to prove that they’re not terrorists and that they have a sense of humor.

Watched the news after that, then turned on the Simpsons, at which point I went to bed leaving Bill to do whatever it was that he does when I’m asleep.

I had to get up earlier than usual since people were coming in to check out the office space. I guess it’s for when the company I work for moves out when the lease is up in February of next year.

The people were supposed to show up at 8:45. I was there at 8:30. At 9:30 I called the guy who called me yesterday to set this up and found out that the guy had been emailing Vivek and they decided that it would be best for them to come in at 10:00.

Why is that?

Because Vivek told the guy that I wouldn’t be in until 9:30. The guy was apologetic saying that he should have called me. I said no, he didn’t need to call me. It was more that Vivek who sits 20 feet away from me should have told me.

They came in and wandered around, sitting in a closed door meeting with Vivek, once again leaving me in the dark.

After I went out and ran some errands, Vivek called me into his office for a talk. I sat down on the leather couch as he sat at his desk. Basically he told me that I should start looking for another job. I’ve been doing that on and off for the past couple of weeks and there’s nothing out there.

Apparently, Vivek is disenchanted with the movie box deal. He has a wife who’s having a baby and things on the movie box front are not working out as well as he had hoped. So he’s throwing in the towel and he’s been offered another job.

He said he’d speak with the other directors of the companies that share our space but that doesn’t seem like anything will come of it.

But you never know.

I asked Greg Stevens if he was looking for an assistant and he does need one since I have been acting as his assistant for the past few months. But they can’t afford one.

I called Bill and told him what was going on. Oddly enough I felt somewhat relieved since now at least I know what is going on. The fact that nothing is going on is troublesome.

I have to work out some unemployment facts, The original company that hired me in 2007 went belly up in March and I shifted over to this misbegotten new company. I need to see if I could collect from the original company.

The bookkeeper gave me a phone number of an employment lawyer she knows that owes her a favor and I’ll be giving him a call soon enough.

And on the plus size side, Chastity Bono is getting a sex change.

Getting Closer

It’s Wednesday, the humpiest of days yet again. Not much going on this end. What’s going on on your end? How are things? Getting better?

Oh I forgot, you never write, you just read. Leaving me holding the bag, doing all the work while you just lolly-gag around. Don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you.

Well not too much at least. I’m used to it by now. I should be used to it with this the 1,303 posting I’ve made since that fateful night in October 2005.

Tonight is another free show I’m not attending. The Budos Band are playing in Stuyvesant Town and I had it on my calendar, but the skies threaten rain again, plus I have to be at work earlier than I’ve been the past few months since someone wants to check out the office space for rent.

Whether or not it’s for moving in February 2010 or as soon as possible, I couldn’t tell you.

So I have to get up earlier than usual. Perhaps that will give me license to leave earlier than usual. That remains to be seen.

Last year on June 10, I wrote a double header which is quite rare. I wrote about 2 girlfriends I had. One was Donna Rinaldi from the summer of 1976.

That relationship was doomed from the start. To be 13 years old and in a long distance relationship was too much for me. I never got to first base in any event.

Still haven’t.

After that was about 6 years later, a date with Terry Triolo. She lived around the block from me and was somewhat butcher than me. Once again nothing happened.

I took her to see Reds, the Warren Beatty/Diane Keaton movie. It’s 3.5 hours long. The story of an American journalist in the midst of the Russian revolution was not as romantic as the Daily Worker said.

That was the second entry from last year. The first was all about watching the gay news program, In the Life with Bill. It was then I decided to take Bill to see Xanadu on Broadway, scoring seats on stage.

Also I hit Bill in the face the night before when we were sleeping which he forgot about until I reminded him when I apologized then next morning.

On June 10, 2007 I was visiting my brother Frank in the hospital. It was mainly about the hospital visit, my niece Meghan and her then fiancee Rob going to their Bachelor and Bachelorette parties, and transportation.

June 10, 2006 was about meeting my friend Sarah, problems with Bill and a hot guy named Lawrence who I practically drooled over. Bill had seen our couples counselor, Phillip Beansprout on his own and said it went well.

My how far I’ve come from those days. So much has changed.

There was a lot of tension going on in our relationship back then, and nowadays there is hardly any.

Then again I write this alone in the apartment.

Little Fishes

Last night was mellow. Called old friends, Billie and Connie. Billie is in Washington DC, Connie is in the Highlands of New Jersey. Haven’t heard from either of them in a while and since both were in my thoughts I gave a call.

Spoke with Billie first. He just got back from a Mexican vacation. I left a message for Billie a couple of weeks ago, mentioning that Bill and I might be visiting DC in the autumn if there was a March on Washington again.

Well so far no progress has been made on that front and right now it looks like we’ll be staying in Hoboken.

It was a good talk with Billie though. Both Bill and I miss him, having had a good couple of weeks a year or so ago when he was up in Manhattan training for his now defunct job at Chop’t, a way over priced salad bar.

Then I spoke to Connie as I sat on the front stoop, enjoying a Saint Luis Rey Rothchilde. It was an enjoyable talk, interrupted by a network failure on my end. She’s always a joy to talk to.

I can’t believe it’s been years since I last saw her, despite driving past her street in the Highlands some summer days. I’d love to see her again but it all depends on how she’s feeling. One of my favorite things is to make her laugh and I often do.

She’s a real sweetheart. Many a time I spent with Connie involved dancing around her house and I look forward to many more times I can perform a pas de deux with Madame Constance. Or stand out on her ledge, playing her wind chimes and making the neighbors think I’m doing tai chi.

Last night David Byrne was playing a free show at Prospect Park, opening up the summer season of Celebrate Brooklyn. Years ago I would have been there at a moments notice. But the threat of rain and the hassle of Brooklyn proved to be too much to consider.

If it were Talking Heads I would have been there for sure.

But last night was a Monday night and I do have to consider my state of mind with regards to work the next day. It’s not like when I was working in the music business where going out and coming back the next day exhausted or hung over was expected.

I stayed home and Bill came home just in time to catch Weeds which was very good. I love Justin Kirk. He rocks. Ever since Angels in America I’ve loved him and on Weeds he is most excellent. After that we watched Nurse Jackie, starring Edie Falco and that was really good, perhaps even better than Weeds.

Bill was trying to upload the still image from the TV of his appearance as a Saudi king on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. He stayed up until 2:30 which around the time I sort of woke up from the very loud thunderstorm going on outside.

I crept through the apartment closing the windows, which were left open just a crack. Didn’t want to take any chances. And it came down in sheets this morning.

I was able to swim on over to my polling place and place my vote for Dawn Zimmer as some Cammarano cronies lurked nearby. The old school political machine of Hoboken churns on.

The other night while Bill and I watched the Tony’s it seemed that the show was sponsored by Big Pharma. One commercial that had some macabre chuckling was for some anti-depressant.

Shots of various actors in black and white, looking into the camera with sad expressions on their faces. What is depression? Who does it hurt?

Then they push the drug with the side effects of suicidal thoughts. If you’re depressed, take this drug and it will probably make you think about suicide if you weren’t thinking about that to begin with. Ridiculous.

And it will probably make you constipated, so you’ll have something to think about while you’re on the bowl.

Suffer Little Children

It’s Monday again. Fence mending day as well. First off I called that certain someone who drive me all over Brooklyn as well as driving me crazy on Saturday. I actually started it off, responding to that someones wife’s email.

She explained that a lot of his problem stems from the aphasia he suffers from. It was a good email exchange. As the day progressed I decided to call him and see how he was doing. Immediately we were able to clear that shit out of the air and get an understanding again.

So it was a good talk with himself on the phone and I am happy to report that things are back to normal or what passes for normal in our lives. Spoke with my brother Brian today as well. We talked about what was going on in his life.

The turning of a corner. Not necessarily the easiest thing to do, but it was definitely the best for all concerned.

It was a good day for communication. Exchanged emails with Annemarie as well. She’ll be here in a little over a month. That’s definitely something to look forward to.

Last night Bill and I renewed our Gay cards and watched the Tony awards from start to finish. It was actually a good show. Neil Patrick Harris was funny and entertaining. Sound problems marred some of the show but a highlight was watching Bret Michaels miss his mark and get clocked in the head by some scenery.

A broken nose and a cut lip was the result, nothing worse. Unfortunately he will live to sing another day. Roger Robinson won an acting award for Joe Turner’s Come and Gone, after decades of toiling in the theater.

I said to Bill that one day that would be him on stage accepting a Tony award which made Bill’s bladder move that much closer to his eyes. We enjoyed the whole show. I would like to see Billy Elliot, West Side Story and God of Carnage and Exit the King. But prices of Broadway tickets being what they are right now it seems unlikely.

Work was busy today. More with dealing with the nightmare that is Greg Stevens Vonage account. A cheap phone service which is not worth the aggravation.

I was on the phone with Vonage a few times last week, all the time they were apologizing. Apologizing so much that it eventually meant nothing. You know they were trained to say I’m sorry whenever they’re found to be in the wrong.

Tomorrow is the run off election for the Mayor’s office in Hoboken. I’m voting for Dawn Zimmer who is the voice of change in Hoboken.

Running against her is Peter Cammarano who has ties to the present ineffectual Mayor, so much so that he voted for every plan that this present Mayor had.

Which left Hoboken so much in the hole that the New Jersey state government has taken over the finances of Hoboken and is suggesting a 47% tax increase.

Most of the people that were born and raised in Hoboken are voting for Cammarano since most of them have relatives working for the city of Hoboken, not to mention the housing complexes in Hoboken that were designed for the lower middle class residents in town.

Funny thing is a lot of those people living in these subsidized buildings have houses down the shore, so they definitely do not want change.

They would like to have their children get their apartments, not lower middle class people that actually do need the apartments, people that do not have second homes down the shore.

So they’re voting for Cammarano who says he’s for change despite his record and his co-opting of the Obama logo, where Obama had an ‘O’ with some red white and blue stripes, Cammarano yields a ‘C’ with a similar design.

Vote for Dawn Zimmer.

Hoboken, oh Hoboken, So much to answer for…

Fine For Now

Well last night was mainly me being exhausted from the afternoon’s events. I would have preferred being exhausted from bicycling over 30 miles, but no, it was the emotional wringer I had gone through.

Juan came by last night and that was good. We sat on the stoop for a while where I enjoyed a cigar and had 2 Stella Artois to Juan’s 1. He won the award for having a tumultuous life, he being without a roof over his head at the moment and people that were willing to help him out turning into douche bags.

Made my tale of woe seem like a walk in the park.

After my cigar we came upstairs where Bill was watching Snatch. The movie not the genital slang. I had seen it a number of years ago with my friend Miriam and it was still a fun movie to watch. A tad violent of course but darkly funny.

After that I threw in a DVD of The Buddha of Suburbia, which was written by Hanif Kureishi. Kureishi also wrote My Beautiful Laundrette, Sammy & Rosie Get Laid and London Kills Me.

His books and screenplays are mainly about the interaction and love lives of Asian Indians and Westerners, mainly the British. Very enjoyable and eye opening as well as risque which in my eyes is a good combination.

Naveen Andrews who plays on Lost as Sayid is in The Buddha of Suburbia as the Hanif Kureishi role. Teen-aged then, he shows his ‘how do you do’ a few times. It was a 4 episode series from the BBC and we only caught the first 2.

After that we watched the repeats of Lost on ABC which featured the more muscular Naveen Andrews with a thicker middle eastern accent.

Bill was in bed by the time that ended and Juan was soon out the door after that, coming back after I texted him to tell Juan that he left his phone charger here.

I slept the sleep of the exhausted and having a total of 5 Stella Artois under by belt made for a deep sleep.

In the morning, Bill was off to church again kissing me goodbye and I soon got out of bed, took off my clothes and went to take a shower when I realized I was still pretty tired and could use some more sleep so I went back to bed sleeping naked under the sheets which was really nice.

Bill had gotten bagels from H&H in the city yesterday so there was no need to deal with canary face at the bagel shop on Washington Street. But I did go out since I wanted the Sunday papers. Nothing that I could have missed there but still some habits die hard.

Around 2:00 I went out, to the river and sat by the soccer pitch reading the Eno biography. It was almost comforting that Brian Eno had some crisis of self doubt when making some of his landmark albums.

The same self doubt that I suffer from occasionally. Not that reading about Eno’s self doubt helped me, but the realization that it happens to a lot of people helped me think that as usual, self doubt is a momentary thing. Crippling for sure, but eventually you can walk again.

I sat for a few hours just reading and watching people and ocean liners go by.

Sitting there made me think that Hoboken is no longer the hipster town it used to be, if it ever was. Especially compared to Williamsburg yesterday. We drove past McCarren Park which was swarming with hipsters in tight jeans and fedoras.

It was off putting somewhat. Juan mentioned that no one wears fedoras anymore, only the ones that don’t know any better, and there they were, the ones that didn’t know any better.


Well so far today has been a pain in the ass and not of my own doing. Someone tells me the other day in an email, of a friend of theirs who is having an art exhibit in Brooklyn. Sounds good. They say they want to go with their wife and that we have to act fast.

The only 2 days they’re available to go is today, Saturday or next weekend. I reply via email that today would be good for me, next weekend not good since I am booked to work with Lois and Rand. Do I hear anything from this someone?

No. So I go about my life.

It’s a beautiful day and I’m thinking that today would be a good day to do my ride to the George Washington Bridge and down through Manhattan, stopping in Central Park for a spell then heading down to the World Trade Center and catching the Path back to Jersey City then riding back into Hoboken.

I’ve done it the past few years, it’s an invigorating, meditative ride. Clears out the cobwebs, gets me into something that resembles physical fitness. So I fart around this morning waiting for the clouds to break.

Finally blue skies appear and I start getting psyched for the ride. No one else to join me, but that’s fine. I find riding with someone is nice, but ultimately it’s just you and the bike that matters.

I start thinking of what to bring, which route to take when the phone rings. It’s Mr. Unknown aka someone, that comes up on the cell phone. He says so I’ll pick you up today. I’m taken aback.

I hadn’t heard anything regarding this since my email and forgot all about it. I didn’t commit to anything either. I explain that to him and I get an apology for his mis-communication.

In my mind I’m thinking mis-communication is when you say the wrong thing, or tell the wrong person. This was no communication.

I feel the rope of guilt around my ankles as I’m about to be tripped by it. I give in to this plan and decide to forgo my bike ride. I really don’t want to but there is this loyalty I feel.

He senses this on the other end of the line and wonders why I’m getting upset. I explain why but it has no effect as far as I can tell. I ask how we are getting to Brooklyn and he gets a bit indignant saying ‘I’m picking you up aren’t I?’

Now this guy usually tries to get out of driving into the city any chance he can get. Let’s take the bus/ferry/Path train which is fine when it’s a novelty coming in from the suburbs, but when you use those methods of transportation as often as I do, there is no novelty and you sometimes see it as the pain in the ass it can be.

Like the other day, I was going into the city with Bill and when we went to the Path train we find the trains weren’t running due to a signal failure, so we wait on a very long line for buses to head into the city in the rain.

No novelty there, just a big pain in the ass.

So knowing this I felt I had to ask how we were getting to Brooklyn. Then I ask what time we are going. It was 11:45 and he says 1:30-2:00. Realistically that means 2:30-3:00. At that time I had hoped to be over the George Washington Bridge and enjoying a quick rest by the Hudson River.

Now I’ll be waiting for my ride to Williamsburg, which is not how I wanted to spend my Saturday afternoon.


That was written about 7 hours ago in 20 minutes. Here’s what happened next. I head downstairs and my cell phone rings. It’s the someones wife telling me they had to turn back and get the directions which were left at home.

It is starting to look like the departure time I predicted was correct. 2:30 seems more likely. I decide to sit on the stoop and enjoy a cigar as they make their way towards Hoboken.

My neighbor Chris sees me and starts telling me about the cat problem in the backyard. The cat problem is his doing since he feeds and looks after so many strays, the cats use the entire backyard as a litter box.

I can’t smell it up here on the 5th floor but they can smell it on the third floor. He tells me of his rescue of a cat that was in a humane trap for 2 days, ready to have a litter of kittens and how he had to go to Newark to prevent it from being euthanized.

It’s a story and a half and he rambles on and I sit there puffing on a cigar waiting for the someone and his wife to show up. Eventually Chris heads inside with 5 large bags of kitty litter, I keep puffing and someone and his wife pull up.

The wife was driving, but she gets out and lets someone do the driving instead. Someone isn’t talking to me so I talk to the wife, asking about the kids and whats what.

Someone had the plan to take the Lincoln Tunnel and then the West Side Highway to get to Brooklyn. I’m just the passenger so I play along, watching bicycle riders on the bike path that I really wanted to be on today.

We approach downtown past the World Trade Center site when someone goes into the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel. thinking it’s the tunnel that goes under the Battery and winds up on the FDR Drive.

I tell him we’re heading into Brooklyn but he doesn’t believe me, not even when we approach the toll to get out of the tunnel. He’s too busy trying to find the Brooklyn Bridge to show his wife. The Brooklyn Bridge is out of sight behind us.

I suggest getting off this highway heading in the opposite direction and head into the traffic in the direction we should be going. No he doesn’t think there is a spot to turn since he used to drive a taxi 25 years ago.

Anything I suggested he wouldn’t listen to no matter how correct I was. It was frustrating and occasionally voices were raised but thanks to his wife things had calmed down a bit. He kept saying that I was angry with him and I said no, I wasn’t angry, just annoyed.

Finally after driving around most of South Brooklyn, we were headed in the right direction. I came up with the idea of crossing over the Brooklyn Bridge, catching the FDR Drive north and getting on the Williamsburg Bridge as planned.

Plus I really needed to pee and begged him to stop if he saw a McDonald’s or Starbucks. Of course where we were on the Lower East Side there were no Starbucks to be found and the one McDonald’s that we did pass, he did not stop at.

By the time we were back in Brooklyn my back teeth were floating. Enough was enough and I insisted he stop and I got out and walked over to a Puerto Rican luncheonette, bought a Diet Pepsi and lost a few pounds in their facility.

Got back in the car and we drove again. I had a suggestion to head north and eventually make a left, someone decides a right turn will do just fine and we start heading towards the Marcy Projects.

Notorious for bad things happening, close to East New York which resembles Dodge City sometimes.

By deductive reasoning I start to direct someone in the right direction. Eventually we find the art gallery, missing the artist they had come to see by mere minutes. It was an OK exhibition.

Perhaps if I was in a better mood I would have enjoyed it, perhaps I would have even enjoyed being in Brooklyn, but not today. Some progress was made in the relations in the car but once we started moving again it went out the window.

An impetuous driver he is, easily stressed and ready to complain about everyone else.

Suggesting that someone get a bicycle and ride around sometime as a way of exercise was squashed when someone revealed that he doesn’t want to look like a dork wearing a bicycle helmet.

I used the ‘would you rather be a good looking corpse without a helmet or someone who looks dorky and alive wearing a helmet?’ argument which went nowhere. Eventually I got to Hoboken angry more with myself for allowing to be guilt tripped into this ill fated excursion.

I said goodbye to someone and hugged his wife telling her I loved her and wishing her good luck. I don’t plan on anymore excursions with this someone any time soon. No fucking way.

I should have stuck to my guns and said no, that I was going bike riding. I would have felt a whole lot better about most everything, now I’m just even more frustrated and bothered by how this gorgeous day turned out.