I Know You Well

May 14th, 2012

OK, the less said about Saturday, the better. May 12 hasn’t been a good day or me for about 20 years. I will say though that Bill and I did find time and went to the movies for some pure escapism and by escapism I mean, we went to see The AVengers in 3D. It was a lot of a fun and provided some good laughs for the both of us. I know the stories (though there was no Ant Man or Wasp) but Bill didn’t and he had a real good time. After that was a trip to Shop Rite where he had never been before so that was an adventure for him.

We came home, watched some TV before heading off to bed. His mom was feeling well enough for Bill to take her to church, her old church, not the progressive church where he currently goes to from time to time. No the old church is still virulently anti-gay and his mother is comfortable with that, though with Alzheimer’s it’s hard to say what really makes her comfortable.

I finished up a ton of laundry and walked around Hoboken for a spell, reading and enjoying a cigar on the crowded Hudson River walkway. I came home after a while and didn’t do much but watch the clothes dry on the racks throughout the apartment. On his way home, Bill called from the Holland Tunnel. He rented a car and still had some time with it and asked if I wanted to go joyriding with him. Being a late Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t really say no.

I met him outside the building and soon we were headed west with no particular place to go. We rode to the Lodi/Maywood border on Route 17 and drove around, past the Bergen Mall as I told Bill stories of my youth. How Annemarie used to work at the A&P which is no more, funeral homes and hair salons. We wound up in Paramus, on Century Road, driving past the George Washington Cemetery, making a right on Paramus Road where I showed Bill my old high school. He asked if I wanted to drive through it, but I adamantly said no.

I had plenty of stories to tall so we drove through Fair Lawn to Saddle Brook where I told Bill how I was shipped off to other families for a week at a time, usually hosted by alcoholic adults and their wayward children. Billy & Eileen Hayes, Bud and Trinka Oberele, Pat & Vinny Crowley, Marge Mudrack. ALl names that meant nothing to Bill and even less for e these days, but still are part of my history.

SInce we were in the neighborhood and since it was Mother’s Day, a visit to St. Mary’s Cemetery was in order. It took a few minutes to find the headstone but we found it sure enough. I introduced Bill to the patch of grass under which my parents decompose.

Bill was hungry so it was off to the Saddle Brook Diner for some good food, a few dollars cheaper than it is in Manhattan. Homeward bound, hitting traffic once we approached the Lincoln Tunnel so it was a tour through Union City and Jersey City.

Indeed quality time was spent with Bill. So lovely. We really love each other and deserve each other and maintain a balance which isn’t always easy but we get by.

And it was back to the cigar shack for me which I’d rather not write about since it was so piss poor the first half, but Thomas proved himself to be quite generous since I couldn’t get on base at all. And now I find myself indebted to his largesse.

Rest in peace Donald ‘Duck’ Dunn.

Collapsing New People

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I’ll Always Love My Mama

May 12th, 2012

Repost from may 12, 2011

What a day. What a raw day. I’m home now and that’s good. I suppose it was good that I went to work since staying at home wouldn’t actually achieve anything. It’s been a day of sadness and remembrance. Twenty years ago today, my mother passed away on Mother’s Day.

I remember those 24 hours clearly. I remember the night before, after closing Maxwells, heading over to Patti Quinn’s apartment and watching a bootleg of Madonna’s Truth or Dare. What stands out is the scene where Madonna is stretched out on her mother’s grave and I remember thinking how weird that was.

The next day I was working at the video store on Mother’s Day. My mother phoned earlier that week and asked what I was going to be doing, if I was going to make it up there to visit her. I told her I was working on Sunday but I would give her a call.

Somehow we started talking about death and my Mom mentioned that when she goes, she would like to go out like a Viking, put her body on a boat, set it on fire and send it out to sea. I explained that it sounded like a good idea but there might be some problems with the EPA.

A few days later, my brother Frank appears at the video store. He motions me to come outside. The look on his face was not good at all and I was worried that something happened to his wife or kids. No, he was the one to bring me the bad news that my mother had passed away. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle. Apparently 27 across was a real killer.

She went and it was fast. I was in shock and brought Frank to the office. I was in a state of denial and figured that everyone was wrong. Of course they weren’t. I asked if anyone called Annemarie and Frank mentioned that they were unable to reach her.

I thought I possessed some magical thinking and figured I would be able to get through to our sister when no one else could. Of course no one knew Annemarie and her family were out of town. She eventually came home to some very serious and dire messages that didn’t exactly say what was wrong, just to call home. Now.

Frank and I walked around Hoboken since I was definitely in no condition to work. It was a sunny day, blue skies if I recall and we sat on some stairs belonging to Stevens Tech on Hudson Street. Eventually Frank went home and I wound up at Rand’s apartment.

Rand’s mother passed away when he was a teenager and I hoped that he might have some insight on what to do. Little did I know that there was nothing to do, all Rand could do was be there for me and he was and I will forever be grateful for that.

We may have walked around Hoboken after that, I don’t know. We may have smoked a joint or had some drinks. I do recall winding up at Maxwells, John Bruce behind the bar and me in a state of shock, maybe having a drink of whatever it was I was drinking at the time.

I did not want to be alone and wound up unannounced at Patrick Morrissey’s apartment, waking him and his boyfriend up and asking if I could sleep on his futon. He let me in and I crashed. Things got blurry after that.
Wakes were well attended, a testament to the love that many people had for my mother. Julio gave me a ride to Lodi where I was going to be for the next couple of days. The family, shattered reunited in sadness.

A few days later I am sitting on the back porch, just listening to the radio, Helen Reddy singing You and Me Against the World, where Helens daughter opens and closes the song with ‘I Love You Mommy’. Corny but comforting.

I missed my Mom then and I miss her now. I wish she could have met Bill, I wish she could have seen her grandchildren grow up. Maybe she did, somewhere out in the universe, perhaps looking back and seeing that happen. She was great. I miss you Mary Anna Powers O’Toole. You were the best. I am proud and glad to have known you.


♫ And when one of us is gone and one of us is left to carry on / then remembering will have to do / our memories alone will get us through / Think about the days of me and you / You and me against the world ♪

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I Know You Rider

May 11th, 2012

So this is day five and this is the wall that accompanies day five. It has been a long day. Started with Bill over sleeping and kissing me goodbye. I asked if he made coffee and he hadn’t since he was running late. Neither of us has been sleeping well so getting up in the morning has been quite a struggle, a pain in the tuchis.

He was out and I was up about a half hour later, shuffle into the shower after making coffee and pouring a bowl of cereal. A conference call at 8AM was scheduled with the big wigs from who knows where. It really did not have anything to do with me but still my telephone attendance was mandatory. Bradley and Zack were at the cigar shack and their presence was felt online.

My presence was not felt so much and at 8:12 I had a text from Zack asking if I was in on the call. I didn’t find the text until 9:30 when the conference call ended and I texted Nimrod back to let him know that I was and couldn’t text and phone at the same time, so take that Mr. Blackberry.

I flitted about the apartment while the drone droned on. I had speaker phone so I wasn’t missing anything really. I got dressed, did my morning business and drank cup after cup of coffee in an effort to stay awake. And I did stay awake through the conference call.

After that, a stop at the bibliotheque where I dropped off some items and picked u-p other items. A walk to the bus stop, ready to head to the Path train should my lately non existent bus did not show again. But it did and it was Chief at the wheel. Long time no see and not much chat between the two of us.

I made it to work and there was Jerry Vale with Zack and the great possum. Braley reaped the benefit of Zack’s largesse today, Jerry Vale and I left to fend for ourselves. And we did an admirable job of fending for ourselves, especially when Zack and Bradley went off for a ‘nooner’. Interpret anyway you’d like.

AT some point in a few weeks, Thomas and Jerry Vale and Bradley and I will have to be in the cigar shack to give a review on Zack and his managerial style or lack thereof. I came up with a line yesterday which some people thought was hilarious. ‘He aspires to be half assed, but as of now he’s merely quarter assed.’

I’ve discussed it with the non marsupials I work with and we’re all a bit cautious and they are advising caution on my part, since I have a way with words and despite being told our reviews would be confidential, people would know it was me who said whatever so I had best be careful. I don’t care right now, and as Bill said, what I say will probably depend on how I get along with Nimrod the day before. I could say he’s great when he’s sober…but how often is that?


09 My Baby

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I Know You Want Me (Calle Ocho)

May 10th, 2012

Today has been day four out of five. I’ve already hit 40 hours, tomorrow will make it 50. It’s rough, being on your feet 9 hours a day, then trying to find a place to sit down for as long as possible on your lunch hour. Today was no different, though it did start out differently.

I had to go in an hour earlier this morning and watching the local news, traffic and weather I heard that there was an hour delay in getting into the Lincoln Tunnel. With my track record this week, I made the decision to catch the Path train. After getting myself together, I headed down Washington Street to the Path train.

I knew what side of the train to get on this time, but there was a train in the station already and I was able to score a seat. I sat and read Retromania by Simon Reynolds some more as the train barreled down the tracks. At 33rd Street I got off and got on the Q train heading uptown. It dropped me off a few blocks away from the cigar shack but I didn’t mind since I was early. About a half hour early.

I wandered around the area, got my usual iced coffee and sat outside until the proper time. I was working with Zack and Thomas today and it went well. Zack is great to work with on the floor and we had a lot of laughs. He also threw a few sales my way which helped not just me but the cigar shack in general.

Jerry Vale came in around 2:00 since there was a conference call that Thomas and Jerry Vale had to be in on. I have to be in on the call tomorrow morning at 8:00 but I can do that from home, before heading into the cigar shack. The original plan was for me to be at the cigar shack at that accursed hour, but with the 800 number and the link on the page I can do it from where I am sitting right now, perhaps even wearing what I am wearing right now, or even less.

It was a busy enough day at the cigar shack, the conference call lasted almost 2 hours which delayed my usual lunch by an hour. So it was a bit windy and cloudy when I was finally able to go outside. I heard from Pedro who was planning on coming into the city tonight and wanted me to hang out with him. He called me before 2:00 and I really could not talk at that time.

When I called him on my lunch hour, it was too late for him so he was staying in Otisville. I also heard from Rand who inquired if I would be going down to Asbury Park with him and Lisa as well as Lois and Mike Neutron. I begged off since Bill is also off this weekend and we rarely have the same days off. Plus I have a ton of laundry to do and I wasn’t so keen on driving down the shore, which is weird since I do love going down the shore.

Instead, Bill and I might go see the Avengers movie on Saturday night, which is also something we hadn’t done since January 2011, going to a movie together. My friend Sung might be in town on Saturday and if I have a chance, I might meet him for a coffee.

In any event, I am home now, the alarm clock has been set so I can be reasonably coherent for the conference call at 8:00. One more day until the weekend. I’m sure I can do it.

I hope Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy Seltzer have a good time in France.



Polyrock – Your Dragging Feet

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I Know You Got Soul

May 9th, 2012

Yet another fucked up day. It started out fucked up thanks to New Jersey Transit. Once again I leave the apartment on time, getting to the bus stop waiting for the 10:35 bus. By 10:40 I see nothing approaching. Another bus pulls up and I ask the driver if he has seen the 126 bus and he hasn’t and doesn’t even seem to know what the 126 bus is.

Once again I head to the Path train. It looks like it will be day three of taking the train into the city. But I spy the 126 bus at the terminal. I get on and ask what happened to the 10:35 bus, the one driven by Chief. The bus driver doesn’t seem to know. I get on board and find a seat. Sure enough at the first bus stop, the 126 bus driven by Chief passes us.

My driver seems to be a rookie, he’s driving quite slow and with people getting off the bus, he is now in Chief’s wake. We wind up following Chief on the route, even getting behind Chief as he picks up passengers while we have no one getting on or off our bus. I do the right thing and text Zack at the store to let him know once again I am running late.

I walk up the avenue to the cigar shack and see Zack who looks annoyed. He mentions that I should do more to get to the cigar shack on time, despite the fact that it is not me, but rather New Jersey Transit who is at fault. Zack says that I had better not be late for Friday. I ask what is going on Friday and apparently there is a conference call scheduled and we’re supposed to be at the cigar shack at 8:00AM.

I ask Zack if that means I would get to leave at 6:00PM and he says no. The conference call is about something that does not concern me at all, but Zack doesn’t care. As a manager, Zack is a decent poet.

There is an email from the twit down south who is organizing the conference call and I call the number posted. The twit mentions that the call could be made from home, all one needs is a phone and a computer. So I don’t have to come in at 8:00AM and work a 14 hour day. Zack is nonplussed. Unlike most managers who look out for their employees, Zack only looks out for himself, much like the possum looks out for himself while eyeing Zack’s position.

It will be a year this weekend that Marcus announced he was leaving the cigar shack and Zack was being promoted. It will be a year that I congratulated Zack and wished Marcus well while the possum turned beet red with envy and resentment, thinking that he might have been next in line instead of Zack. Zack noticed the possum’s color that May 12th, but now it seems Zack is safely ensconced in the marsupial pouch.



waiting for Orpheus


Talking Heads – Road To Nowhere
Thank you Obama.

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I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)

May 8th, 2012

Tuesday evening at the cigar shack. It has been a long day. Up pretty early, had another meeting at a cigar shop and I think it well, though the interviewer was a bit foggy due to attendance at the former manager of the cigar shop (Marcus) long delayed Bar Mitzvah. Apparently it was a lot of fun, Marcus hoisted upon chairs and Mazel Tov’s all around.

The meeting was all the way on the east side so that meant a Path ride and then a crosstown bus. The Path wasn’t so bad but I had forgot how much I hated taking the train so early in the morning. Standing around, too many people and I got in on the wrong side of the car. The other side opened first so all the seats were taken when I boarded.

The cigar shop was around where Bill spent his formative years so he had the scoop on what bus to take, where to get off and of course, how to get back. I think I did well. Apparently a lot of people who know me from the cigar shack want to pickle me for my red herring expertise. Was Bismarck a herring?

I was crazy early for work at the cigar shack this morning so that was good. yesterday I was a bit late due to a bus breakdown in the Lincoln Tunnel. Of course nothing was mentioned until I took it upon myself to ask a local bus driver if he saw the 126 bus. He said no, that the Lincoln Tunnel was closed down. I was waiting with 10 people and 5 of them followed me as we walked to the Path train. It wasn’t as crowded at 11:00 in the morning as it is at 9:00.

I haven’t written about the Hoboken ARt & Music festival on Sunday which is a lot more fun than cigar shack tales. Bill and I had dinner with Julio & Stine and Alexander on Friday and I mentioned the festival and Julio of course rolled his eyes. He’s born and raised in Hoboken so it is no thrill for him, just tons of people he tries to avoid and never see again.

To my surprise I got a text from him saying that the 3 of them were at the feast. So instead of my usual plan of showing up at 4PM I was there at 1:30. Julio bellyaching, Stine watching Alexander on the rides. We walked around a bit, Alexander had his Razor scooter so he was having fun. The adults bickered about what to do next. I planned on going back home and resting up.

Now earlier I had spoken to my brother Frank. He was interested in seeing the headliners, the dB’s but when I called he had no idea what was going on. I told him to call me when he had a clue. As I parted ways with Julio, Stine & Alexander I get a phone call from Frank’s wife Elaine. They’re in Hoboken and where was I?

I explained I needed to go home but I would be back. I just wanted to sit down somewhere comfortable. Bill who drove the night before was up from sleeping and heading out, so I basically chilled out for about 45 minutes before joining the fray. SUre enough I get to the stage, there is Frank, and elaine as well as Rand & Lisa and the super wonderful Jane Scarpantoni who I hadn’t seen in quite a long time.

The band was good, catching up was done. Chaz was there as were Karyn Kuhl, ALice Kg, Alirio and a bunch of other people I had last seen in April at Maxwells for Steve Fallon’s return.

Tonight on the way home, I’m walking fast through the terminal trying to make my bus. I see my friend Denise about 30 feet ahead of me, but I’m not yelling. 2 youngish women, drunk and waving their arms are directly in front of me as I’m trying to get past them. Swinging their arms dangerously close to my crotch as they express how surprised they are that ‘Todd was smoking pot!’.

I see Denise when I get on the bus, running past the arm swinging young female alcoholics and sit next to Denise. The drunk girls walk by and I mention to Denise how one of them almost castrated me while she was walking and also said loud enough that ‘Todd was smoking pot’. The young woman turns and gives me a dirty look as she teeters in her heels with the rest of her drunken cabal.

Denise and I have having many laughs and eventutally the drunkettes get off the bus. The ‘intimidating one’ meaning the one who wasn’t slurring her words says ‘You got something to say?’ as she starts heading down the steps. I tell her I will repeat it only if she closes her eyes while descending the steps.

She calls me an asshole. I tell her she’s the front part. Eventually they’ll wind up in a bar spreading chlamydia, amongst other things. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. I’ll remember them, they probably saw 2 of me so they’ll be looking for twins or Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Drew Carey.




35 Drunk Girls

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