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.

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