Archive for the ‘moldies but moodies’ Category

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I Am the Law

Wednesday, May 11th, 2011

Well here I am again, standing behind the counter at the cigar shack. Thomas is pounding out a rhythm, totally flat and off beat, his titanium ring hitting the wood of the counter and making quite a noise. No charm in that.

It’s been a better day than yesterday, time is flying by- not like the other day when it really zoomed but faster than yesterday. I finally finished the Keith Richards autobiography and I enjoyed it very much.

He explained how he fell off the ladder in his library as well as falling out of a tree in Fiji. He says he did not snort his father’s ashes and I believe him. That story came after his brain surgery and the doctor told him, ‘No more bumps’ which means no more cocaine.

And the story went that Keef mixed up his father’s ashes with some blow. His relationship with Mick is like 2 brothers, bitchy and forever intertwined. I can relate to that somehow.

Now perhaps I can get back to the New Yorker where I am reading about Jane Fonda and I have not even cracked open Mojo or Uncut yet. I’ve been carrying it around in my bag since I bought it a few weeks ago.

Listening to Bob Dylan’s Love & Theft in the store right now. It could be my favorite Dylan album. Bob is going to be 70 in a few weeks. I saw him in the 1990’s but did not stay for the whole show.

At the time I was more interested in seeing Patti Smith who just came out of exile after Fred Smith passed away. Bob was nice enough to offer her the opening slot on the tour and she wisely took it.

I went with my Weehawken roommate William. It was odd being in the lobby of the Beacon Theater and seeing familiar faces of people that I had assumed that had died a while ago. The look of shock on my face was more than likely noticeable.

Patti Smith was enjoyable and since I was not so much into Dylan at the time, we left midway through his set. I didn’t get it and I think he was doing Alabama Getaway when William and I made a hasty exit. Not into the Grateful Dead at all you see.

Right now I am downloading the Roches self-titled debut album. I’ve always liked them and was fortunate to see them twice, once at Town Hall as the Roches and once at the Bottom Line as the Caroling Carolers.

When I worked at Farfetched I would play Keep on Doing, the Roches third album often and almost every time I would play it, someone would ask if they were hearing the Roches and when I would answer affirmatively they would almost always go on about how much they loved them.

I also have to confess that I had a crush on Margaret A. Roche for the longest time, nothing sexual just a sheer admiration since she wrote some of their most beautiful songs. I have their debut on vinyl somewhere but I felt I needed to have The Hammond Song on mp3 and on my iPod.

And of course the Roches tie into the Wainwright family thanks to Loudon’s wandering eye. I expect to be playing it at the cigar shack tomorrow. That should raise a few eyebrows. Hey, if you’re in the neighborhood, stop on by and say hello. Just don’t be a douche.

Now I am home and quite happy to be here. Bill is awake, first time in days that he’s been awake when I walked through the door. It’s nice to see him in a vertical position.

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I Fell in Love with a Dead Boy

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010

Oh I slept well enough last night. The Xanax certainly helped. I was getting a bit anxious about going back to work again, one day off followed by seven straight days of work. The medication helped my mood getting up this morning.

Bill had kissed me goodbye an hour earlier as I slept, wishing me well and me mumbling for him to be careful. I wandered into the shower and glad I still had hot water. Some breakfast, coffee and checking of emails. No nibbles after pounding the pavement yesterday. Still I got over it, not much I could do.

I got the suit on, deciding to wear the same suit I wore yesterday while walking the streets. I rarely wear the same suit 2 days in a row, but I didn’t care. It’s not like anyone I work with saw me yesterday anyway. A walk to the bus stop, after getting 2 quick picks for the Mega Millions, feeling lucky I guess.

Spoke to Bill briefly before getting on the bus. He was his usually jubilant self, though of course when I call his boss always enters the picture. I sussed that it’s his way of saying he doesn’t want to talk on the phone anymore. Fine with me.

I rode into the city, walked through the bus terminal and headed into the subway, way ahead of the people I rode the bus with. Why they take the crowded route is beyond me and I do occasionally get strange stares from the people that were sitting behind me when they walk down the subway stairs and see me waiting for the bus.

I did see someone unexpected. It was a friend of Marcus, a guy who sounds like Principal Blackman from Strangers With Candy. The friend’s name is Walton and he’s an obnoxious friend of Marcus, as if Marcus would have any other type of friend.

He saw me standing there waiting for the train and asked ‘What, are you waiting for the train?’. I said yes, and seeing him with a cup of coffee, I asked, ‘What, are you drinking a cup of coffee?’ He said he was escorting his nephew back to Michigan. I remarked that I didn’t know the train went that far.

Just then another train pulled in, allowing me to make a hasty exit, saying goodbye and wishing his nephew best of luck. Got off the train, still in a good mood.

I knew I would be working with Calvin and I forgot I would be working with the new guy, Bradley. Calvin was in a good mood and Bradley was eager. I didn’t have the heart or feel it was my place to tell Bradley what a mistake he made taking this job. But he needs work and perhaps he’s better suited for this job than I am, since he’s spent 11 years working in a cigar shop somewhere else.

It was a fast day though, perhaps it was due to having fresh blood in the fish tank. Bradley did a good job and Calvin kept to himself a lot of the time.

I did point out to Bradley something that wasn’t pointed out to me until a month after I started, about having your name put on a sale on the computer so you get credit for it, and thereby earning that 1/3 of 1% commission.

The day ended, leaving me to close the store solo. While I worked I took my suit jacket off and missed a call. It was my cousin Joe who I finally reached out to, thanks to Annemarie’s prodding. Man, can she prod.

He gave me his email address and sounded like he was willing to help. I’m looking for something low level, and hopefully a Monday through Friday job. I just emailed hm a few minutes ago.

Made some jokes in the email about spam and my mother saying that I was dependable, polished and professional. I read it to Bill and he suggested taking those jokes out since it is an ‘official’ email. So I listened to Bill. For the first time in what seems like weeks, after I got Joe’s voice mail, I felt hope.

This was written with crossed fingers.

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I Almost Had A Weakness

Monday, September 27th, 2010

Here is a recap of sorts. Had off yesterday, Sunday. Had a dream before waking up, where I was in Lodi, in the house that I grew up in, or more likely in the backyard with the family dog, Bojo. Bojo was not really himself.

Looked like the beagle terrier mutt that he was but he was happy and without of of the neuroses that the actual Bojo had. He was pleasant to be around, like a dog you see on TV. That’s how I woke up.

Yesterday was the day off. Laundry done and not much else. Just farted around. I went out for a bit but it was drizzly and decided to come home after returning The Lovely Bones DVD to the bibliothèque. It was not the laugh riot that I expected.

Actually I was not expecting any laughs, I knew what was going to happen and I wasn’t much in the mood for child rape and murder. Call me old fashioned. I actually rented it since the score was by Brian Eno but most of the songs were songs that I already had.

From what I gathered, the last song in the movie was a piece from 1973 and updated for the movie, but I didn’t get that far and figured the movie would be on cable eventually. I watched Boardwalk Empire but feel I enjoy it more when Bill is watching it with me, and he wasn’t home.

He was home in time to watch Mad Men, but didn’t see the whole thing, going to bed midway through. I eventually joined him around 12:30 and tossed and turned for an hour. Couldn’t fall asleep.

Couldn’t help but think of other jobs that I had. When I go on interviews, no matter what I usually freeze at the end, when they ask me if I have any questions for them. ‘Do I look fat in this?’, turns out to be not such a good question.

Nor is asking if their gender reassignment was an easy process to go through. I did come up with some valid questions, such as, ‘How many people are in the firm?’ ‘How many people will I be supporting?’ And my favorite, ‘What’s for lunch?’

Bill was out again this morning earlier than I was. It was pouring rain outside, which made for good sleeping in weather. I bargained with myself and got 15 extra minutes. Got up listening to Ben E. King singing ‘Stand By Me’.

I took that to be a good sign as I walked to the shower after making some coffee and pouring out a bowl of cereal. When I walked back in the bedroom, the Fabs were singing All You Need is Love. Another good sign I hoped.

Soon I was out the door, happy that it wasn’t raining just then. Everything was wet. Onto the bus and out into the terminal, down the stairs and onto the subway platform where a guy was playing I Me Mine. Not your every day Beatles song you hear busking.

I gave him a buck and hopped onto the train. When I got off at my stop, it was pouring out. No place to hang around before heading in, so I went in. The usual characters, the usual paranoia.

And since it was raining I had to spend my time indoors, in the cigar shop, which wasn’t so bad after all. I had my nose buried in a book but was drawn into a conversation about the state of pop music today.

It was agreed that hip hop doesn’t have much of a shelf life.

yesterday's me

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I’m Looking Through You

Wednesday, September 1st, 2010

Trying to write, computer keeps shutting down from being too hot. Maybe it’s what I am writing that is too hot. Maybe it’s the email attachments that are too hot. Maybe it’s Chris Murtagh. Or Mark Walden. Or Keith Moh.

Maybe it’s a lot of things. But in any event, I should write as much as I can before the computer crashes. That means you should ignore or overlook all errors, both spelling and grammatical.

I asked Bill is his Mac was working and he bought a new cable for it a few weeks ago, just never got around to hooking it up. He tried to tell me where the cable was for the Mac but it wasn’t where he said it was.

He did say he was taking half a day from work and would hook it up so I could use it tonight. Well he did come home, the mail was here and there are four boxes of Crystal Light precariously set on the edge of a table.

Plus there is a plastic supermarket bag in the middle of the floor filled with garbage which wasn’t there when I left the apartment this morning. And there is no cable hooked up to the Mac.

Right now I have a fan blowing full blast into the now uncovered computer tower on the floor. Seems to be doing the job. Plus it’s not the 90 something degree heat that was going on all day.

Today I went back to work. My Monday, your Wednesday. I didn’t want to go to work but really didn’t have much of a choice. The mantra continues. Sometimes the mantra is an albatross, sometimes it actually makes sense. Tonight it made sense.

It was just Calvin and Sean and myself tonight, after Don Birch left at 7PM. I write with what seems like the grim computer reaper standing behind me. The computer could shut down at any moment. Must continue writing.

Work was a bore.

It’s now September 1. Some kids are going back to school. Occasionally the feeling of despair that I felt when I was but a child comes into my frame of reference. How I hated school.

From day one. I think the only good time I had in school was actually 8th grade, 1976. I couldn’t wait to get out of school. The idea of college which I did hold as a possibility was dropped when in Junior year of high school when Sister Reginald told us that we were there in her class because we had to be there.

When we went to college, no one was going to make us go. It suddenly became clear. If I don’t want to do something, chances are that I won’t do it. If I don’t have to go to class, then I won’t. That would be a total waste of money.

Plus, my parents did not pay for my brothers and sister to go to college, so they weren’t about to pay for me. And they made just enough money that I wouldn’t qualify for student loans, and forget about scholarships.

I hated school, and education so much, all I could do was try to not fail ( and risk a beating by my father). I did so well in not failing that I didn’t really learn anything.

Luckily for me I knew some very intelligent people and learned all I could from them, as well as accumulating as many life experiences as I could. Like do not put a metal snap from your pajamas up your nose.

There.

I’ve written. The computer did not crash yet.

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I’ve Found Someone

Saturday, August 14th, 2010

Another day. This one was a bear. And not the heavy set hirsute gay male kind. No this was a bear, and difficult to bear. Nothing bad mind you but just a bit of a funk. And my co-workers seemed to be feeling quite the same way.

It wasn’t so bad, since I slept well while Bill was doing his best Ralph Kramden imitation in Atlantic City. I was the dutiful Alice at home.

I made coffee and actually went to the supermarket to get cereal which I had run out of and since it was on sale I was able to get 2 boxes for $3.00 which is a deal indeed. Then picking up some of my dry cleaning before heading home for a breakfast of cereal and coffee, in tandem, not together.

Out of a desire not to watch First Look NY on TV I went out and caught the bus. A nicely paced walk up Ninth Avenue, buying some organic cookies which I shared with some of my co-workers. But I saved most of the cookies for myself instead of giving them all away like I’ve been doing.

It was a beautiful day outside once again. A Spring/Autumn like day, sun shining, a nice cool breeze. Lot’s of people out of town and a lot of people from out of town took their place. The area was really not too crowded, at least inside.

Perhaps there were a lot of bedbugs as an infestation has been reported nearby.

It was certainly slow at the cigar shop. The usual playful bitchiness was going on between myself, Raymond, Don Birch & Sean. By this time Bill had made it home and was sleeping the sleep of bus drivers.

I went out for lunch and had a nice phone chat with Annemarie telling me the latest tales of the Humboldt County scene. After the phone call with Annemarie I sat on a bench near the park and read Pop: The Genius of Andy Warhol which I had ordered through the BCCLS system.

I had to return the Leo Castelli biography (just as he had gotten to Manhattan after World War II) since it was due back on Monday and not renewable. Andy Warhol is a fun read and yet it has nothing that I hadn’t read before. Just the same sentences & names in a different order.

Made it back to the shop where headaches both real and imagined ensued. Nothing insurmountable but it did include one instance of me telling Raymond that I resented him for something that he had said. A misunderstanding on his part but a misunderstanding that got under my skin and laid eggs.

It took a while for things to clear up and I had to put him in his place. Like I wrote, the day was a bear and this was the most bearish part. I don’t feel like writing about it in detail but I will say I was right and Raymond was wrong.

There was a sweet moment in the day. A woman came into the cigar shop, en route to a party. She was an attractive woman and needed to buy some cigars for a birthday present for a friend of hers. I made a recommendation and she went for it.

I offered to wrap the gift and we chatted. She was single and tired of looking for Mr. Right. I told her to stop looking and she said that she had. I suggested that she consciously stop looking and he might appear. She looked pretty good, in a nice dress as I told her of the civil union Bill and I had a few months ago and the celebration last month.

She enjoyed the story and really enjoyed me telling her that she was wearing a really nice dress (and she was). I also told her my old adage that straight men will undress a woman with their eyes, whereas a gay man will dress them with their eyes.

She laughed as I finished wrapping her gift and I wished her a good night and a happy birthday since she was turning 40 in 4 days. I also told her this could be her year. I think I helped make her night that much better and I really enjoyed doing so.

Now I am home, writing this. I have a day off tomorrow and then 5 days of work. I won’t be writing tomorrow unless there is something extraordinary to write about, and I certainly hope there won’t be.

It’s my day off goddammit.

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For Christ Sake

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

A rainy day and I’m not bitter. I was bitter yesterday and a tad resentful but time heals most wounds and I’m feeling alright. Definitely did not go out and play guitar today, and definitely did not respond to any acting/singing/monologue improvisation suggestions.

Today with the weather and the melatonin, made for getting out of bed quite difficult. I remember Bill leaning over me, kissing me goodbye and telling me how good I looked and then back to sleep, eventually waking up to the sounds of the Electric Light Orchestra singing Telephone Line.

That brought me back to 1976, being in a car with a kid, Paul Gaulvin, who lived a block or so away from me in Rochelle Park. I didn’t know Paul Gaulvin at all and was sort of forced into being his friend by my father who worked with Paul’s father in some capacity.

Paul’s mother was driving us somewhere when Telephone Line came on the radio. The mother was the boss of that household, the father your basic milquetoast. I believe there was an older sister in Paul’s life and they fit the nuclear template quite well, Paul and his sister fighting like cats and dogs.

Ultimately Paul and I never had much in common. We experimented with cigarettes when we were 14 years old and I remember Paul buying a pack of Camels saying that they were good because they had hashish in them.

Though Paul and I went to the same high school, we really didn’t hang out with each other, he was in a smarter class and I wasn’t. I also remember the last time I hung out with Paul, at his graduation party 29 years ago, where I got so drunk that I fell flat on my back.

There I was talking to someone and next thing I knew, I was looking up at the sky. Paul’s mother made sure I got home safely, having Paul and maybe someone else walk me home over the Route 80 overpass. Last night Bill came home just in time to catch the 11:00 news.

He asked me if I had heard from my brother Frank and I said I hadn’t. I fell into the old family trap of ‘I’m always calling him. Why should I call again?’ That in turn prompted a discussion of my family, how things were different for Frank being the oldest and me being the youngest.

Basically, by the time I came of age my parents were tired of raising kids and I was left pretty much to myself. Of course I was also living a double life, a life that my family still doesn’t know about. And that’s probably how it should be.

Somethings are better off unknown.

I do recall telling Frank about some aspect of my growing up and living a secret life and that flipped him out quite a bit. That was then, this is now and I live a quiet life, content to stay at home and watch TV.

And tonight I will be watching the penultimate episode of Lost which will hopefully be an improvement on last week’s episode.

In the hallway

In the hallway


in the rain

in the rain

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