Written about Dec. 19, 2010
According to Google Analytics, the Fugly sisters visit this blog faithfully.
I still wonder if their respective mothers had any children who lived.
More journals have been found from my daze at McSwells. Don’t know what to do with them as of yet. Some guy on FB expressed an interest but I had no interest. I suppose I could do whatever I want with them. They are actually quite funny and insightful as well as chatty & communicative and not entirely in a Burroughs way. A Capote-esque influence perhaps. La Cote Basque 1965, only instead of blood stained sheets it’s how many grams and for who listed. It was so long ago, for me at least. Memories of something, somewhere which I would rather soon forget and disavow any knowledge of. But I have these excellent journals to take into account which is quite entertaining.
I’ve shed a few pounds and people over the summer, I look and feel great.
this was from 2 years ago.
Brian Eno’s 77 Million Paintings installation in Manhattan at 145 west 32nd Street.
I went today it was quite nice, at one point I was the only one there. No sign of Eno.
I plan on going back on Thursday with Bill. Since it is always changing and regenerating it should be a different installation.
I think this was the soundtrack to the installation.
The Bicycle Tour
Happy Birthday Michael Palin
Trying out a new function on my browser.
Been working again at Maxwell’s. I’m enjoying it, fitting in more. Getting to know my co-workers. They seem to like me and I feel the same. Occasionally I play the geezer role, saying how certain bands were back in the day, or at least my perception of those bands.
Nirvana? Ugly, loud, looking like carnival workers. Smashing Pumpkins? Boring and annoying.
This is why a career in A&R would never work for me. I simply cannot pick ‘em.
Last night, Saturday was one of the strangest nights. Five bands, three of them related somehow. Bands usually get a free meal when they play Maxwell’s and sometimes the bands try to get their friends fed too. So some vigilance is required. A table for six became a table for eight, then a table for twelve. The situation was somewhat annoying but they were nice people. I, in geezer mode mentioned that the Pogues weren’t as difficult as these groups were.
And it was a sold out show.
A mixed crowd, all ages and I had never heard of any of these bands before. Two women, perhaps older than me came in for the show around 8:30. The band they wanted to see was playing at 10:30. I asked them if they wanted to eat first and they said they wanted to see the show and then eat. But once they knew the schedule that had changed and so I did a slight impromptu strip tease for them which they seemed to enjoy. They giggled and I sat them at a nearby table.
They behaved themselves. The same can’t be said of the two drunk couples, in one case the male could barely walk or finish a sentence. In the other case, the female could barely walk as her boyfriend held her hand like a leash, as she stumbled into other patrons trying to find where she was previously sitting. Of course both groups were cut off from any more drinking. This all happened in my last hour and I did see them out.
I spoke to the relatively sober half of each couple, the male’s girlfriend loudly stated that she called a taxi and asked if it was there yet. It wasn’t and I think she said that so I would leave her alone. I was only trying to make sure they were OK to get home safely. To the other couple, I asked the male if he’s taking care of his girlfriend, he’d better do more than just hold her hand.
He didn’t pay any mind to me and was holding her hand as she stumbled down the sidewalk about to hurl. Sloppy drunks.
I did reconnect with dear Andy Peters, former soundman at Maxwell’s and current soundman for the Feelies. Andy lives in Arizona and flies out to wherever the Feelies are playing since he is the only one they trust with their sound. They were supposed to be playing in Boston on Friday and since Boston was in lockdown, Andy went to Maxwell’s instead. Great to see him albeit fleetingly since everyone wanted a piece of him it seemed. No difference since I will see him again in a few months.
And then there was Brian Musikoff who I have orbited around for years without a proper introduction. Finally after years of nods and hand waving we chatted about our deceased pets, and specifically how I got to be John Ozed.
You bring the sadness
I’ll bring the madness
Together we’ll have a real fine time
We’ll carry our sorrow
Back into tomorrow
And none will be the wiser
until that day
which we held at bay
will be easily forgotten
for as to you
this much is true
as it is for me.
I wrote that last night. Juan was hoping to come by but I didn’t respond until too late so he stayed home. It doesn’t really mean anything, just having a go at some poetry.
It’s been a low key yet busy kind of day. Laundry and grocery and another night back at Maxwell’s.
I was going to take a nap but I lay in bed and thought about some staffing agencies Fred Nealon emailed me about, which are “more like places to collect staph infections since they’re generally useless” to Fred Nealon.
Staffmark- Used to be decent, not so much anymore. C-
Green Key Resources- Crap company at 32nd and Park Avenue. F
Bayview Consulting- More crap, circle jerks a specialty. D
Millennium Group- with a name like that, they probably had more of an impact in the 1990’s. Now archaic. D
Bacharach Group- People working in an office that is decaying with each keystroke. C.
Addison Group- Ineffectual website. Really, what’s the point? D
Core Staffing Services- Featuring Bobby Russo. Half hearted promises, zero leads. D
Office Team- Had a counselor who told me they wanted to work at the position they were telling me about. Did that mean it was a great job, or that Office Team was a crap to work for? C-
These are not the only agencies I dealt with. Just the ones that rose to the top through the muck.
North Korea threatening nuclear war.
Economy in the shitter.
Obama putting Social Security up for cuts.
Tonight’s top story: Basketball coach fired after recording showing coach being an asshole to his team.
I posted the above last night on my Facebook page. I figured most of my friends would know where I was coming from, literally. But not Eric London. Apparently I became friends with Eric London somewhere down the line, he is friends with a few other gay bloggers I know. Where Eric is from, and I guess its Miami Beach North Korea was the top story. In the NY Metropolitan area, the Rutgers coach being fired grabbed the headlines.
So Eric asked where it was that I was talking about and I replied, ‘OK Eric, WCBS Channel 2 NYC’. I figured that was that but to my surprise Eric unfriended me. I’m not upset, but I couldn’t help but wonder why. It could be because I am not a twink, but in any event I wound up blocking him from my Facebook page. I have to admit some confusion looking at his page and seeing a picture of some twinks as the profile but his age was something slightly above my own. I got over it.
Last night Bill and I went to see Gabriel Iglesias at Radio City Music Hall. It was Bill’s Christmas present and he loves Gabriel Iglesias. I enjoy Gabriel as well though not as much as Bill. We headed to the Path train and walked down Washington Street, past young Tim busking with his friends outside a bank. They saw me coming and started singing my name as Bill was chatting on his phone next to me. I was flattered and threw some change in their box. Tim was playing an event on Pier A this morning and I told him I would see them.
Bill and I got on a train, cops in the first car, and cops at every station that we went through. Something must have been up but neither of us had any idea. We hurriedly strolled up Sixth Avenue to Radio City, Bill have two Ratso Rizzo encounters with cars as we walked in the crosswalk with the light. I was pretty mellow and did my best to calm Bill’s protective mood. It was a beautiful evening as we strolled, following a couple who did not want to be late for the show either.
We got in, Ozomatli were on stage. I saw Ozomatli in the 1990’s in Central Park while I was working at Right Track Recording. They were great then and they were great last night. It was an abbreviated set, being the musical opening act for a comedy review. Ozomatli provide the music for the Gabriel Iglesias show on Comedy Central, Stand Up Revolution. I was surprised to find that before Gabriel Iglesias came on there would be four or five other comics doing short sets before an intermission preceding Gabriel Iglesias. They were mostly alright. I did not like one particular comic though, he said if you go to a comedy club you should not be offended by what is said on stage. Then he said ‘faggot’ correcting himself and then saying ‘Sorry, Homo American’. He was an asshole and I am glad I don’t remember his name. Bill would, but he’s not home.
It was a good show, Bill getting so excited that a couple of times he stood up and yelled. I wasn’t worried or bothered by this since there were quite a few others doing the same. Gabriel said something about Puerto Ricans and that what got Bill cheering. It was a sold out show, very mixed crowd and all in all an enjoyable evening except for that asshole.
We made it home a little after midnight. Bill headed to bed after setting things up for today, I followed a while later, happy to have two nights of uninterrupted sleep. It wasn’t easy last night falling asleep at first since my neighbors are quite noisy with their love making. Neighbor Deborah mentioned that she could hear them a few weeks ago, and last night I finally heard them. Despite that, once I fell asleep, I slept soundly. Really makes a difference it does.
Monday night at Maxwell’s. Yes I am working there. Circle of life etc. Good timing though considering Bill’s life has been tumultuous lately. It’s all good on our end thankyouverymuch, but his solo side has had some upheaval which you will have to read on his blog, which he doesn’t have.
So I am back at Maxwell’s. It was thanks to Juan inadvertently. A couple of weeks ago he asked if I knew anyone at Maxwell’s. I asked why and he mentioned a posting on Craig’s List. On a halfhearted lark perhaps, I sent in my resume and stated directly to the owners that they know me, I know them. I know Hoboken and I know Maxwell’s history (which is timely thanks to Rolling Stone’s recent listing of Maxwell’s being the #3 club in the United States).
Todd called me up a week later while Juan was here making it awkward. I explained to Juan that with his youth, he is the one employers are looking for, geezers like me get nary a glance. Plus Juan is working at Carlo’s Bakery where the Cake Boss reality show is filmed. He claimed it was no big deal and it offered him many more opportunities to make fun of me.
I started last week and worked over the weekend. I am on staff now and I am enjoying it. But like my time spent at the cigar shack, there is a stage fright involved. I figured it out, that each time is a performance in front of different people each time, and that is why I get a little bit anxious. But this is Maxwell’s- a place I have known for decades and have worked one of those decades there in some capacity.
And there are faces from the past that have been popping up, saying hello and how they’re happy to see me. Sometimes I remember their names, sometimes I don’t. But they know me, that’s for sure. I think I handle things well with a handshake and a smile and then they shuffle off or I do.
Last night I worked and in the front room instead of the back room was a band, Swingadelic, a group that I have known of for quite some time but never saw them until then. They were very good, a bit loud since the eight plus horn players music bounced off the tin ceiling. I was out of there a little bit after 11:00 which was OK. I was supposed to work until midnight but there really was no need for that extra hour.
I stayed up until 2:30 mostly talking with Bill. I hoped that staying up later would help with the sleep that has been evading me as of late but it did not work out that way. I hope that maybe tonight I will make up for the lost sleep. Maybe.
I try to do well in avoiding the news. Such an overload is possible and today, or the past few days I had been plugged in, the Supreme Court taking on DOMA and Prop 8 and yesterday with the water main breaks in Hoboken have proven to be stressful. I have to go back to rationing the amount of news information that I take in. And I’m not talking about TV. I mean, TV is a part of it, but it’s this here internet thing, instant news and information in the blink of an eye and it’s relentless.
Certain Facebook friends probably feel the same way, ¬¬and can bear witness to my political posts on my Facebook page, at least the volume of political posts. And the majority of FB friends don’t even get the majority. There is a group that I am a member of that I send even more reposts to other people that feel the same way. I don’t want to overload my ‘regular’ FB friends. The majority of those regular people luckily feel the same way.
And then there’s Pedro. A dear friend for over 20 years has becoming more and more reactionary and right wing. I used to think that my progressive views had some influence and I guess they have, he is gay friendly which is a plus, but lately he’s been more gun crazy which is disturbing. He’s living in a more rural area which can ‘justify’ his owning of firearms but overall I tend to avoid any talk of guns or right wing bait that he might set for me.
Another night of uneasy sleep. I was tired enough to sleep but shutting off my brain seems to be impossible. Thoughts keep pouring in. I suppose sitting in front of the computer is a distraction enough and sometimes as I lay in bed trying to sleep my mind wanders to the internet while my body stays in bed. But it’s not the internet, it’s the past.
I think about growing up on Riverview Avenue, of my godmother Lee Merlino and her husband Tony. I think of the Benkovitch’s who lived across the street, of the Williams family who live a few houses away. I spent a lot of time in the Williams house. I was friends with Barbara and Scott and can easily picture the lay out of their house. I think of Lucille Drive and how it might have looked before Route 80 displaced the Woodmere section of Lodi. That happened when I was just an infant but I lay in bed thinking of a aerial photograph from the early 1960’s of that part of town.
But my time awake is not spent entirely in the Lodi of my mind. I think of Maxwell’s from 30 years ago and Martha Griffin . I think of Steve Saporito catching grief (and perhaps rightly so) for wearing an t-shirt based on Sharon Tate’s autopsy as he waited tables. I think of Tom Prendergast yelling at the bartender who I was backing up, telling him to get some clean bar rags to help someone who had a beer mug hit them in the face the night the Pogues played Maxwells.
Eventually I do fall asleep and it’s usually too late. Despite having blinds on the windows, the sunlight still comes through making sleep once again, just out of reach.
Now having been awake and unable to sleep I find that most of Hoboken is out of water. There was a water main break a block away which didn’t really affect us here, but a little while after that water main break, at a construction site at 14th and Willow a 30 inch water main was accidentally broken making Hoboken effectively without water. Luckily I showered already. Helicopters hover overhead for the local news channels.
Bill has offered to bring water home from Manhattan when he comes home later but I tried to dissuade him from that, thinking it would be a pain in the tuchis to do such a thing.
Hours later, the water is back on but it advised to boil the water before using it.
I really should eat three meals a day. I skipped lunch and paid for it by crashing both physically and emotionally. I just ate after taking a nap and I still feel groggy but with some energy. Definitely running at a low flame today and probably for the rest of the night.
A rough night of sleep once again. After spending most of the day with Juan and having a really good time I hoped falling asleep would be easy. Bill slept quietly, no DROID noises but it didn’t matter.
I lay in bed for about an hour before getting out for a few minutes before trying again. When I got back to bed it was time to hear the recycling truck going slowly down the street. It sounded like a big truck when it was on the previous block but when it was in front of my building it sounded like it was being pushed.
Then when it was in front of my building it was really loud. I lay thinking of how I usually sleep through these loud noises but last night that was not happening. I couldn’t stop thinking of Maxwell’s for some reason. Just various people and things and events floated through my head. I suppose I eventually fell asleep thinking of that.
I watched this again today, tissues nearby.
Why did I pick this song? Call me to find out.
19 Welcome Back
It’s certainly good having Juan around. I haven’t laughed like I do when he visits. Last night he came over, later than I hoped but it worked out just fine. Bill was out late as well, working on a staged reading that I am going to see next week. They arrived within minutes of each other, a little before 11:00 and a little after, my two favorite guys.
Bill worked on his desktop for the first time in two years since his laptop crashed, with his play on it. The laptop is at TekServe being looked at. There is a hard copy so it’s not a total loss. It could also be a good thing, some editing could be done while reentering the play.
While Bill was doing all that, Juan and I watched ‘Seeking a Friend for the End of The World’, which I had seen before and liked a lot. Juan hadn’t seen it and he liked it a lot, enough that he got choked up. After the asteroid/meteor events a week or so ago it was timely to watch. I tried getting it from the bibliothèque then but someone had the same idea. Plus Juan wasn’t around at the time.
I wouldn’t call it a romantic comedy though it was marketed as such. It’s a heavy movie with some laughs. And the title is a bit unwieldy.
It’s a bright and sunny day in Hoboken and it’s also quite cold. Temperatures have dropped and there’s a wind that cuts like a knife, so going out and about has been limited. I’m not sure if Juan is coming over again. I have Blue Velvet and Altered States to watch and he hasn’t seen either of those flicks.
And so we are back to zero comments which is fine. It would seem odd to start getting comments a week before this here blog goes on a hiatus. Once again I am compelled to write that nothing is wrong. After writing for over six years, at least 500 words a day I deserve a break. Navel gazing is not what it used to be and the lint gathering hasn’t amounted to much. It is not the end of the world and I am perfectly alright. Like I wrote yesterday, I might post intermittently and I might just post photographs.
Annemarie and Harpy have been steadfast and true and I thank them for that. This here blog gets over 1,000 hits a month and out of those hits, two people comment, except for the one called David who commented to recommend setting the camera so the photographs don’t come out with a blue tint. A tint that I did not mind at all but David sure did, enough so that he took the time to write about it. No snark, it was appreciated. And I took his advice to heart and the photographs posted since then have been from my post blue period.
Of course David hasn’t been heard from since. Perhaps he is satisfied and feels there is no need to comment further. Or perhaps he doesn’t read this here blog anymore. It’s lonely writing a blog and I have implored, begged, requested comments and feedback, it never came. Annoyingly sometimes both Annemarie and Harpy would send me emails or telephone me instead of posting here. I felt that if someone had something to say about this here blog, then this would be the best place for it. But like I said, it’s lonely writing this day in and day out.
Up until a few years ago I wrote seven days a week. Then I decided to give myself Sundays off. And even then I would be tied to this here blog since on Sunday I would get my Google Analytics report, informing me that Lazy teat Greg visited the blog once again. Yes despite my reluctance to mention it by name, it would come up late Sunday afternoons, the report of who and where this blog has been read. I do not think anyone in Bala Cynwyd or Kuala Lumpur are going to be greatly upset that they have been tracked via their ISP.
I expect the usual lack of feedback. Sure if someone comments on this here blog I will be notified, but I expect nothing really. I will continue to get the analytics every Sunday and I suppose with the lack of fresh entries six days a week, the hits should decrease. I have no problem with that since for the longest time I thought I had less than a dozen readers. I was happy thinking that and I would still be happy if that was all I got. So no more writing about how this supermarket is better than that supermarket. And no more suggestions, not that I ever got any regarding this here blog.
01 The Boxer
It is still cold out in case you were wondering. It felt colder yesterday but I think numbers wise, meaning degrees wise, it was colder today. I was out and abut today, no helping out Shlomo. I told Shlomo, Israel and Brandon last week that I would not be able to help out today, having things to do. Israel and Brandon replied with an ‘OK’. Shlomo said he did not get the text. I did tell him last week in person as well as yesterday and he pleaded ignorance. For someone who claims to be an engineer from Tel Aviv he can be quite dumb.
Not that being an engineer instantly confers intelligence. I am sure there are a few engineers who can design a door knob, but actually turning a door knob is a whole different story for that set. So today I had to Varick Street, down the street from McMann and Tate as well as Wolff Olins. I don’t think I know anyone there anymore and I got more of a thrill walking past the former Paradise Garage than I did from walking outside of Karl Heiselman’s place of employment. It was cold it was best that I keep moving.
It was a meeting and I being me, was early by 15 minutes. That’s the way to do it. If you’re not early, then you’re late. The meeting was at 10:30 and we were sent to a conference room, about 5 of us. Then more and more people started trickling in and the woman who was organizing the meeting said they would wait 15 minutes for people who were running late. It was an employment meeting by the way at an agency. I figure if you can’t get there on time, what chance will you have getting a job if you are late?
It was a meeting, neither good nor bad. It was a chance to get in from the cold so that was good. After about an hour, we waited for individual counselors to counsel us on getting a job. My counselor, Santiago Ortiz was a good guy and impressed with my notes and resume. Nothing for him to educate me on, and he agreed after I told him I used to work for a staffing agency and have seen what a bad resume looks like. I almost told him about Kevin McBean and his pathetic resume.
Kevin McBean appeared one day when I was at Right Track Recording. Just came in off the street looking for work with a resume which looked like it was typed on tissue paper. There was no hiring going on, but still I took pity on him and revamped his resume and made it look quite good. Kevin McBean was grateful and we became friends until I told him how I met this great guy (Bill) who gave me a ring. After basically coming out to Kevin in the most positive way, Kevin made a hasty exit and was never seen again.
Kevin McBean could be roaming the streets of Williamsburg for all I know or care.
Hong Kong Garden