Tag Archives: Brother Frank

For Christ Sake

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

Turn the Heater On

It’s a Tuesday. Not necessarily a sunny day but it was OK enough to get me out of the apartment after job searching for a good part of the day. Last night’s cannabis free dreams involved being in a taxi on Eighth Avenue with a former co-worker who was a composite of a few different co-workers.

In the dream I started out wandering lost in the Port Authority bus terminal. Larger and more sprawling than it actually is. Caught a cab with the co-worker, and as we sat in traffic the cab driver decided to take a short cut which was basically a parking lot with only one way to get in and out. Bumper to bumper traffic.

The co-worker left when we got back into the traffic and I eventually woke up. Made some coffee, had breakfast and showered. Yes, all blah blah blah. Living on the 5th floor of a building means that it’s generally cooler five stories up than it is on the street.

I usually turn on the heater built into the stove for a little while to warm things up but found that when I went to turn on the heater, there was no heat. I checked and the pilot was out. SO I lay on the floor trying to turn it on to no avail.

I texted Julio to see if he could help me with it, but they have a similar problem with the heater in the bedroom and even a handyman like Julio couldn’t fix it so they’ve been using a space heater. He suggested calling PSE&G for an appointment so they’re scheduled to come here tomorrow between 8AM and 12PM.

And since the stove which is pretty old is not under warranty it could cost us some money for the visit. The stove works, but not the heater. I called Bill and left a voice mail for him.

I’ve been doing good. Avoiding most TV news. No more MSNBC on during the day. Instead I watched the Gilmore Girls and wanted to move to Stars Hollow. I watched a repeat of the Daily Show from last week and then headed out.

Wandered around Hoboken, making my way up to 14th Street and then over to the river. Bill called back a few hours after I called and he was his usual ebullient self. He asked what I was up to and I told him I was walking around Hoboken, glad to get out of the apartment.

I also remarked that I was glad to be away from people and he laughed at how I was alone in the apartment and now alone outside. I told him that there was no one around where I was walking, that that was what I meant.

He asked how I was feeling and I told him I was reluctant to tell him about being a little depressed. He didn’t mind hearing it, saying that I would be there for him if the situation was different. And it’s true, I would be and I have been.

But this has been going on more and more lately, hence my reluctance to say anything. Then Bill had another call and said he’d call me back. That was about 6 hours ago, not that I’m counting. He’s at work and doesn’t need to hear the crap I’m going through.

Walked towards the train station, circled around Pier A. In the distance I saw Tariq, packing up his guitar and heading away from me. I could have yelled out to him but decided not to.

I made my way home, and called my brother Frank. It’s been hit or miss with him lately and decided not to let him interrupt. Told him about the guitar playing and the keyboard playing the other day and even how I’ve been a little bit depressed lately.

He suggested playing the guitar some more and once I got off the phone with him that is exactly what I did. And he was right. It took my mind off my problems and gave me a feeling that I was accomplishing something.

I’m trying to build up a repertoire for when I actually try my hand at busking and for the past couple of hours I’ve been playing Paul Simon songs courtesy of the Ultimate Guitar website.

One song in particular stands out and it’s a from a video by Gary Weis from the early days of Saturday Night Live, just footage of people coming home for the holidays at various terminals and meeting their loved ones.

I always think of Gary Weis’ video when I hear Homeward Bound, and just sent him an email telling him so. Another person sent an email to him saying basically the same thing. A short 3 minute video that resonated so deeply 30 years ago, still resides in my mind and my heart.

The Weight

What’s with the early posts? Actually, these aren’t early posts. They’re written earlier but sometimes, like last night, posted later. Tonight since I am meeting up with Lois DiLivio and going to see Inglourious Basterds I thought I would get an early start.

Last night I came home, Bill was awfully quiet. Beating himself up for not getting the part that he auditioned for. I chalk it up to nerves, but it’s not my blackboard and not my chalk. It wasn’t easy sitting a few feet away from him and I guess it wasn’t easy sitting a few feet away from me, which is why he went into another room and shut the door.

I only wanted to help bolster his flagging spirits and end his self-flagellation. But he wasn’t into it and you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. He went to bed early enough and I stayed up until midway through Craig Ferguson.

He was up and out before me of course, off to work for our Bill. He gave me a nice kiss so I guess he is on the mend. I didn’t speak to him after that until he gave me a call around noon, telling me that he wanted to hear the sound of my voice and that he loved me.

So he’s progressing and perhaps learning from his mistakes. Before Bill called, I got a phone call from my brother frank, who had 2 words to say to me. Not, ‘drop dead’ nor ‘bad mood?’ but rather ‘I’m sorry’. I don’t know where that came from, prompting from Elaine? His shrink? Or perhaps he read what I had written the other day.

I, of course accepted his apology and that was that.

It’s been quite a humid day this day of Equinox, 12 hours of day, 12 hours of night. Perhaps the equinox helped Frank and Bill out or perhaps they worked it out for themselves. It’s quite humid here, the first full day of Autumn.

No haircuts today since barbers are closed on Wednesday. I asked about that a few years ago with Tony, my barber. He said all barbers close on Wednesday. I told him growing up in Lodi, the barber was closed on Monday. That sounded like crazy talk to him and it didn’t go much further than that. My hair is manageable though and no need to fret about it.

My old work neighborhood is under lock down again due to the UN Security Council holding their meetings. The President is staying at the Waldorf Astoria which is right around the block from my old office.

That would have been a thrill but since I’m not there anymore, not so much. Lot’s of protesters around so while I sit in Hoboken thinking that’s it’s quite exciting to be there, if I was there I’d more than likely be complaining what a pain in the ass it is to get around with the lock downs and restrictions.

That’s about it for now, it’s 4:27PM. Maybe I’ll write about the movie and spending time with Lois when I get back tonight. Inglourious Basterds was all that and a bag of chip. Entertaining revenge movie. More about it tomorrow, it’s late, I’m tired and it’s hummus out and it’s 10:47PM..

Don’t Pass Me By

Well I broke down and bought the remastered White Album, Abbey Road and Sgt Pepper. When at Target the other day I saw they had the best price and after obsessing about it, I decided to bite the bullet and get some.

The White Album was listed at $18.99 which is cheaper than what I paid for it 10 years ago, close to $30.00. If you’re a cashier at Target, if there is no one on your line you have to stand in front of the registers and tell people that you’re open.

At the register (#9) it was marked down to $16.99 and then the cashier applied a $5.00 gift card, knocking the price down to $12.58. At that price I also picked up Abbey Road and Sgt. Pepper. And those were $13.99, at the register- $11.98 and the $5.00 gift card was applied to that as well so it was too good a deal to resist.

I was so excited about it that I told Rand and Chaz about it. And they do sound better. The CD’s. Rand and Chaz sounded the same. The records have more of a warm feeling, full sound- not flat like before. And I’m no audiophile.

That was basically the highpoint of the day. It’s been a better day than yesterday.

Online I sent the fat geezer from England who was giving me a hard time yesterday to the Spam folder never to be heard from again. I stopped by Tunes to check out their price and everything was a few dollars more for the remastered Beatles CD’s.

I called up my brother Frank, just to check in, to let him know about the Target prices. I was feeling pretty good, walked along the new walkway between Hoboken and Jersey City. They were setting up for the official opening with Governor Jon Corzine making a speech.

On the way home I had to get some juice and butter substitute and I got a call from Frank. I told him how the Target deal went down. He had mentioned earlier about how he would like a mono copy and I told him then that it wasn’t for individual sale, only as part of the $300.00 boxed set.

He said his friend Alex got it for $100.00 and I sort of disputed that. Outside the supermarket, in a good mood, last day of summer he mentions again how he’d like a mono copy. I said his friend Alex could burn a copy for him I’m sure, but I myself wouldn’t expect one from Alex since I’m not Alex’s friend.

Once again I get accused of being antagonistic. I tell him that I’m not antagonistic, I don’t appreciate being called antagonistic like he did on September 9 when the Beatles stuff came out again.

I was quite happy and thrilled and trying to share that happiness with him but he’s not having any of it either then or now. I told him it would probably be best to end this conversation right then and there since it’s going to a bad place and I didn’t want to go there.

I do my shopping and come home excited to hear the Beatles stuff. I feel a little bad, especially when I open my emails and there are 2 links that Frank sent. One was an R. Stevie Moore thing covering Elton John’s Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself and the other was this fabled rapid share list of the Beatles remastered from WFMU.

I decided to call him back and thank him for the links. I try to explain how I am feeling and during that he tries to interrupt me but I don’t let him. ‘Oh it’s all about you,’ he says. I tell him I am trying to tell him what is going on. He’s a bit put off that I didn’t enjoy a link he sent regarding an off shoot of Arcade Fire. I tell him I haven’t listened to Arcade Fire since May 2007 when I had my meltdown at their Radio City show.

I respect him, even admire him but what’s the point when there doesn’t seem to be any respect coming my way? He had another call and I told him to call me back if he wanted to. He hasn’t.

Now that’s the Junior side of the day.

The Senior side is about my father who died 10 years ago today. It’s hard to write positive things about my father. He did put a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs and food on the table but he also ran a tight ship, kept us in line by browbeating us or actually beating us.

He was 40 years older than me and I don’t think we ever really got along. There was never any moments of a hug and saying I love you.

Growing up I disliked him so much that I indented an X on his face in a picture of him and his siblings. He did try to make a connection I guess, but talking to a 15 year old boy like he was 5 years old wasn’t the way to do it.

I didn’t like the way he treated everyone in my family and wanted him out of my life, the sooner the better.

But that would never happen, even after abandoning my mother in Cape May and driving back to Lodi after my mother jokingly said when having after dinner cocktails at some restaurant ‘that she was fine and didn’t need his money’.

He decided to teach her a lesson by deserting her, my mother. He felt totally justified in this.

After my mother passed away in 1991, I was living in a bad situation and he was as well after losing his wife that I thought we could both help each other out. Everyone warned me about moving back to Lodi but I saw a side of him I had never seen before.

Loss and grief.

I was working in Hoboken and taking a bus to Manhattan and then a bus to Hoboken. It was a job and I had no other options.

One morning as I was getting ready to go to work, I used his deodorant. He must have seen me doing it and he says, ‘I don’t know what diseases you have, but don’t use my things!’ I could not wait to get away from him, I would be happy if I had never saw him again.

I lived with him for 3 months in Lodi and didn’t speak to him from 1991 to 1998. Before that I didn’t speak to him after kicking his pregnant daughter out of the house for a couple of years, until my mother passed away.

But of course he was around. At Xmas eve dinners at Brian & Karen’s my brothers would try to get me to wish him a Merry Christmas. I had done it before and each time I would be rebuffed. And once again I went up to him hand out for a hand shake and he would look the other way. I told my brothers that I am tired of being the ‘better man’.

To others he could be quite the charmer, but to me he was a mean, petty and vindictive man and I do not miss him at all. I didn’t like him and thought he was an idiot. I’m sure he felt the same way about me.

In fact, I don’t think I really became an adult (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) until he died. Bill notices my lack of self confidence and my zero self esteem, and has figured out where that came from.

It was oddly reassuring to hear from my cousin Jackie that he didn’t realize how bad things were under his Uncle Francis’ roof until after he died. It was good to get some sort of recognition of neglect.

So here I am 10 years later, butting heads with his son with the same name.

I simply cannot win with anyone named Francis Xavier.

But I will always give Junior another chance.

An hour or so later.

Just got back from a walk around Hoboken after dinner. Enjoyed a cigar, listening to the iPod. Thinking about my father and that classic line from Paul Westerberg from the Replacements, ‘He might be a father but he sure ain’t a dad’. That sums up a lot.

I recalled when I was living with my father and during a lull in our stormy relationship we went out to dinner. He was going on about how his mother, my grandmother, treated him like a prince and my mother treated him like a prince. What a princely life he had.

The thing is, around that time Jim Mastro and Meghan Taylor had thier first daughter Lily. Now Jim and Meghan weren’t selfish at all and when Lily came into their lives Lily became the center of all tings Jim and Meghan, as it should be.

I couldn’t (or can’t) help but compare my father to Frank & Elaine and their daughters, Anne & Rex with Earl and Brian and Karen with their 3 kids and how their lives revolved around their children, like Jim and Meghan. But no one would be most the important in my father’s life, except my father. It struck me as odd and made me realize that we were in competition with my father for my mother’s affection.

We lost of course since we weren’t the breadwinners.

He said and did some truly rotten things. But he was my father and he put food on the table, clothes on our backs and put a roof over our heads.

So for that I will say ‘Thank you’.


OK, last night after writing I read my daily edition of Popdose, which is an excellent online source for music and other things. They had a very good review of the Beatles catalog being re-released. Or rather several good reviews of the catalog.

Let’s face it, this is the only time that most music writers would ever have a chance to review the Beatles as a ‘new’ release. At the end of the review was a free download of the remastered A Day in the Life, which I of course downloaded.

And I have to say, A Day in the Life sounded really, really good. I listened to it on headphones and I heard somethings a lot clearer than I ever did before.

Got me thinking that perhaps I will eventually buy everything all over again eventually, especially if I don’t get any for this weekend (and I’m not expecting to get any) for my birthday.

I even liked it enough to post a link to the Popdose website on Facebook, even stating that it included a free download. No one commented so I couldn’t say if anyone followed my lead.

I went to bed a little while after that. 1:00 seems to be the ‘go to bed’ time these days for me. Bill was up and out, kissing me good bye before he headed off to work at 7:00.

I stayed in bed until 9:00 which is the usual lately. I puttered around trying to figure out my day. I called my brother Frank to see how he was doing. I called him the other day but he was having computer problems and his computer guy had shown up.

He never called back which is no big deal, so here I was calling him again. I was initially calling to tell him about the A Day in the Life download and how good it sounded.

He asked how I was handling my unemployment. I said there is a sometime battle with depression but it usually doesn’t last. He asked about the Xanax and I told him I take it every now and then when things seem overwhelming and anxious.

He suggested anti-depressants and I told him I would pass, like I said the depression that I sometimes feel is momentary and I can get through it just fine. Still he suggested the anti-depressants again.

He still has difficulty speaking sometimes, trying to gather his thoughts. He also said I sounded antagonistic (or words to that effect) and I swear I wasn’t.

The thing is I take him seriously and try to be patient with him when he tries to talk. He doesn’t think I am patient at all.

I tried steering the conversation back to the Beatles and the remastering but it seemed pointless. He said we weren’t on the same wavelength. I made a joke about how we weren’t on the same Van Morrison album (Wavelength) which he didn’t seem to get.

It’s a shame, Frank and I used to be really close but not lately. There’s something like a chemical reaction when we meet or talk. He’ll always be the older brother and I’m always trying to win his favor while walking a tightrope and being true to myself.

It seems that when I am true to myself, and not liking something he likes, he takes it really personally and gets offended. Still, I do my best to be there for him.

I guess this is how it will be between me and him from now on. It’s also probably the reason I wasn’t invited down the shore.

I mean after the blow up between me and him in May with Elaine in the car as we meandered though Brooklyn, who would want to be in a beach house with two brothers at each others throats?

I guess he resents me, thinking I live such an easy life. But I don’t lead an easy life, it’s quite hard sometimes. The thing is I don’t complain about it.

Sure I’ll write about it on here, but as you can sometimes tell, that I occasionally start out bitchy, but by the end it’s over, or at the very least by the next entry.

I do love him, warts n’all. He is my oldest brother and out of Annemarie and Brian and myself I’m the one who is most in contact with him.

This afternoon I went into the city and helped out my old friend Dan Moore who works at Housing Works on east 23rd Street.

From their website: Housing Works is the largest community-based AIDS service organization in the United States, as well as the nation’s largest minority-controlled AIDS service organization.

They have a big event going on next week and needed some help preparing. Dan has been posting on Facebook, looking for volunteers. I replied a few weeks ago saying I would pitch in and I felt today would be a good day.

I walked over from the 23rd Street Path train and saw Dan who graciously said I looked 15 years younger than I did when we last saw each other. He quickly set me to work, moving things from their basement to a spot on the main floor where the event will take place.

In the midst of moving some big, heavy, cumbersome pieces of furniture who calls me but Frank to tell me he downloaded the White Album from the WFMU website. I tell him I couldn’t really talk at that moment which of course seemed to upset him.

As Juan used to say, ‘Whatevs’.

I helped move some more things up the stairs but after two hours, my back started bothering me. I found Dan and told him that my back was acting up and he was quite understanding and thanked me profusely for helping out.

I told him I would try to come back and do some more but for today, I was done. He invited me back for the event on Tuesday which was nice.

On the way back to the Path train I called up Frank who told me about the download from WFMU. He said they posted it on Rapid Share and I told him I would try to get it somehow.

Since I was calling from the street, the phone connection wasn’t the greatest and I didn’t hear everything that he said and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him to repeat himself

Razor Face

Nothing much happened today. Did some laundry. That’s about it. I may have another Susquehanna Investment Groups job coming up from another refugee from the jungle where I used to work. That remains to be seen.

I do have a job on Saturday, hanging some pictures in an office. That should take about an hour.

Tomorrow will be the trip to the Metropolitan Museum with Harpy. Then Hurricane Danny might hit here this weekend, making it an indoor weekend which is no fun. But I won’t know until I get there.

I hope it doesn’t happen. My friend Excer is supposed to play the Central Park band shell on Sunday afternoon and I would like to check that out. So fingers are crossed (which makes for difficult typing) for Sunday.

Time for you to roll your eyes since I’m about to write about the iPod shuffle.

Smalltown Boy- Bronski Beat
This came out in 1984. Jimmy Somerville’s falsetto. Patrick Morrissey and Alphonso Portillo’s apartment at 201 Madison Street. Crashed my last car in the afternoon, Patrick took me in and made me dinner. He and Alphonso lived on a floor below. Meat Loaf with cream cheese inside. And white wine. A good way to end a terrible day. A song about coming out and leaving home. It was a hit in the UK and got some airplay here on New Wave stations.

Towers of Dub- The Orb
A 10:24 track on a CD that Bill gave me as well as giving me an iPod one Christmas years ago. Fun trippy dance oriented stuff. Sounds great on headphones. Maybe in a club as well. But I’m not clubbing anymore, Blow Off was more than enough for me. I’ll be in the chill out room if you need to find me. Actually this would work better in the chill out room.

Filthy/Gorgeous- Scissor Sisters
From their first and best album. They are a fun group. Juan had a crush on Baby Daddy. Baby Daddy would probably have a crush on Juan if he ever met him. This album reminds me of being with Annemarie and Earl driving from the Saddle Brook A&P.

99 Problems- Jay Z & Danger Mouse
Most everyone knows who Jay Z is. Danger Mouse is a producer who is also one half of Gnarls Barkley. This is from the Gray Album which was Jay Z’s Black Album, mixed with the Beatles White Album. In this track, it’s Jay Z rapping over Helter Skelter. Of course it’s a totally illegal release, but it was everywhere a few years ago, and could be bought on Canal Street for $5.00.

Change- Killing Joke
Killing Joke was a band that a few people told me I would like since I liked Gang of Four so much. I couldn’t get into them. This is the only song of theirs that I like. Youth who was in Killing Joke is one half of the Fireman with Paul McCartney. I think it’s the right half since Macca is a lefty.

1/2- Brian Eno
From Music for Airports. Definitely a chill out track. I think the first time I heard this was when my brother Frank had a cassette of quiet songs to help with his wife Elaine’s delivery of their first daughter Meghan. I don’t think it was played since Elaine wound up having a caesarian section. I think it was played at La Guardia Airport for a time to help passengers relax.

Robber Dub- The Clash
I know the first time I heard this was when Laszlo Papp bought the 45 when it first came out at St. Mark Sounds. Then we traipsed over to some friend of his apartment and played our latest purchases. My purchase was Private Idaho by the B-52’s. Summer of 1980 it was. I was learning the truth at 17.

Get on the Good Foot (Pt 1) – James Brown
I never really heard James Brown when growing up. It wasn’t until the 1980’s that I really discovered him and that was mainly through the use of his beats and the sampling that went on in Hip Hop. I did go to see him once or twice at outdoor concerts. But I was so far away I couldn’t see him, only hear him. Would have loved to have seen him at the Apollo in the 1960’s though.

Be Here- Raphael Saadiq
I love Raphael Saadiq. He has one of the best voices out there and his music these days is very soulful, like in a 1970’s vibe. This also features D’Angelo who used to be the sexiest man in music 10 years ago. They also sang ‘She’s Always in my Hair’ by Prince together. Raphael Saadiq is always worth checking out if given the chance, especially if you like soul music.

Coal to Diamonds- The Gossip
From a collection of songs that Juan made for me when we first started hanging out. The Gossip are fronted by Beth Ditto and she’s a sensation in the UK. Here she wouldn’t get arrested, much like Scissor Sisters. I can easily picture Juan singing this song onstage. He’s be a good performer I think. Does he think so?

That’s it. Nothing more to see. Move on.


Ah, just got off the phone with Lovely Rita. Hadn’t spoken to her in a while. Always a good chat. She’s another woman who I love to make laugh. Getting off the phone is a bit abrupt. It always is. Just an uncomfortableness.

I guess Rita’s not one for long goodbyes. I know a few other people like that. As soon as the ‘e’ in ‘goodbye’ is said, they are gone. Personally for me, I don’t mind the long goodbye. It’s a warm feeling.

The goodbye/I’m outta here is too cold, leaves me hanging. But that’s some people and not me and if everyone was like me, it would be a better world, yet it would be a boring world, so here’s to them, the short goodbye people.


It’s a Thursday which for me is a Friday. It’s been a week of oddness. Monday off, Tuesday substituting for Monday, making Wednesday feel like Tuesday and today feels like Friday. As you can guess it’s very confusing.


I spoke with my brother Frank today. He called me, a bit bummed that I hadn’t spoken to him in a while. He’s been trying to deal with his retirement. And he still has issues with life, specifically growing up.

Apparently my parents wanted him to be a priest. By the time I came along 11 years later, the parents were tired and didn’t really seem to care what it was that I would do.

No red flags with regards to college. No red flags with regards to anything. I don’t blame them. Wouldn’t do any good to blame them anyway. I’m not one to go to a cemetery and yell at a tombstone.

Work was busy somewhat and also quiet. Vivek was in and when I finally had a reason to see him, I find out that he’s on the way to the airport.


I was able to make a few phone calls with regards to the new position I find myself in. I call it, ‘inroads’. It’s funny, last week on Thursday I was totally stressed, at wit’s end. So much so it affected me physically. Today, not so bad. It must be the new outlook, to just plow through.


Today was humid and drizzly, tomorrow they are expecting thunderstorms and showers. I have 2 new DVDs from Netflix, The Naked Civil Servant, starring John Hurt, who is one of my favorite actors of all time.

John Hurt portrays the late Quentin Crisp, a bon vivant from the UK transplanted to Manhattan. It’s said that Sting wrote An Englishman in New York about Quentin Crisp. Very dry that Crisp was.

The other DVD is Resident Alien, which is also about Quentin Crisp, this time a documentary. Since Sting is in the documentary, I guess I’ll find out the story about An Englishman in New York.

When my brother Frank was on the radio, instead of the web these days, he would occasionally mix in some spoken word recordings of Quentin Crisp on top of what ever music Frank happened to be playing.

Quentin Crisp, from the old world of Oscar Wilde. The was no closet that contain him.


You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)

Tuesday today. Let’s see, Bill woke me up again this morning at 6:50 which was fine. I was out of bed and doing my thing. Bill is off to his sleep apnea test tonight which leaves me solo. Not such a bad thing, though the bed will be emptier than it should.

Looking forward to President Obama’s press conference tonight. Still a refreshing thing to see and hear a world leader speak so intelligently and with authority. For some reason the right wing nuts have been going off on the fact that Obama reads from a teleprompter. What the fuck is that about?

I know the previous President, you know, the door knob, had difficulty pronouncing nuclear correctly, but all they could do is complain that Obama reads from a teleprompter? What? Did they think Bush was talking off the top of his soft skull?

They also have been complaining that Obama is busy multi-tasking. I know, that’s not right, especially since the door knob before him had difficulty watching TV and eating pretzels.

Yesterday was a busy Facebook day. Last night I was posting with a few other people, specifically Pat Longo. Nice guy, friends with my brother Frank and other WFMU types. Pat doesn’t like the Beatles. Says they’re overrated.

I can see how he might say that though I obviously don’t agree. For me, my love for the Beatles, isn’t just the music. It’s the whole cultural phenomenon that started 45 years ago and continues to this day.

They still sell plenty of records and books, and soon they’ll be on Guitar Hero or perhaps Rock Band. I don’t know, I’m not a gamer. For the seven years that they were active, they were in my eyes, four of the coolest people on the planet. Clothes, hair, & attitude still resonates. I know, I’m biased.

I love playing their songs on guitar and singing along. I’ve read their books, from badly written biographies to trainspotters writing about every recording session to the smallest detail. Moms and dads and kids liked them and still do.

I was devastated when John was murdered, and was very upset when George was attacked by an intruder and I cried when he passed away a year or so later. I shed a tear or two seeing Paul live at Madison Square Garden in 2005, and smiled sweetly when I saw Ringo do a morning set at Bryant Park for Good Morning America.

I think they were and still are amazing. There were moments that I resented them for casting such a large shadow on everything that came afterwards. The resentment was momentary and faded away and still I loved them. They probably resented the shadow that they had created and were forced to live in. Still, they weren’t going hungry.

I think one of the first musical memories I had was of my brother Frank playing Strawberry Fields Forever and when it faded out and in at the end he turned out the light in his bedroom and scared me. Strawberry Fields Forever makes for a better musical memory than Winchester Cathedral which could actually be the first song I actually recognized.

I owe my Beatles fixation to my brother Frank who gave me my first Beatles LP as a consolation for not taking me to see the bicentennial fireworks like he had promised. It was Abbey Road, their last album. Which in a way makes sense for me since I tend to do things backwards.

I started collecting their records, looking for the original Capitol Records rainbow edged albums, or releases on the Apple label, buying import singles with songs I never heard before, like The Ballad of John & Yoko.

Side note: one of the reasons that I took the job at McMann and Tate aka Wolff Olins was because they helped design the Apple Records label back in 1968. And that didn’t go so well for me 38 years later.

I just figured out a few weeks ago that John, Paul, George & Ringo, which I’m sure you know is sometimes how they’re mentioned, is the order that the band was formed. Maybe it was obvious, maybe I’m a dunce.

From July 5 1976 until December 9 1980 I felt I might have a chance of seeing the four of them perform again, or at least release a record. We know how that turned out.

But I still play them, I’m still enthralled, and I’m still a Beatles fan, and you know you should be glad. Yeah yeah yeah!

You Can’t Catch Me

Well it was back to Southampton today, boarding the White Star Line for the HMS Titanic. Deck chairs all in in disarray. Someone needs to tidy them up, put them in their proper places and it might as well be me.

They have told me that I will have this job until next March, but of course there could always be an iceberg between now and then, between here and there. Today was nothing extraordinary. I was alive, which was a good thing (depending on who you talk to) I guess.

Bill was up before me, and he bellowed that it was 6:45 and his bellowing was more effective than an alarm clock. I shuffled past Bill as he gussied himself up in the mirror, and jumped into the shower. I was out in time to kiss him good bye.

He reminded me he has a sleep apnea test tomorrow night so he won’t be around. It’s a sleep over thing. My brother Frank did it last week and he complained how uncomfortable it was.

I spoke with Frank for an hour this morning which shows how busy I’ve been. There was the usual initial difficulty in connecting but it lasted only about a minute. We talked about a wide range of things. He finds talking to me therapeutic which is fine by me.

We made plans for me to take a train out to Garfield on Friday to play guitars together. I’ll take a train out there, we’ll play and he can drop me off at the train station so I can get back to Hoboken and beat the rush hour. I’m not as intimidated as I used to be.

Playing guitar in front of him was nerve wracking for me at times. A few years ago Bill and I drove out there during the holidays and I brought my guitar. It turned out he wasn’t into playing guitar. I tried showing him a Beatles song that I had taught myself, so proud I was, only to find him saying, that’s not how it goes.

It sounded fine to me. No, I didn’t play the Fmaj7, instead choosing a simple F barre chord. I was discouraged and put the guitar away. Last time this past holiday season I tried it again, with his guitar, played my version of Nick Lowe’s So It Goes, as well as Macca’s Maybe I’m Amazed and he was intrigued enough to suggest getting together and playing sometime.

So I guess that time will be this Friday. Since he had the stroke he hasn’t played that much and I guess he’s itching to play with someone. Even his baby brother. I’m looking forward to it and will bring a few songbooks out.

I reassured him that playing Graham Parker’s Squeezing out Sparks is easy to play since most of the songs are 3 or 4 chords. I’ll even show him some websites that have chords to songs that wouldn’t be in the songbooks.

I took the Path train back to Hoboken this evening, enjoying a Padron on the way. Chuckled out loud on the train as I was reading David Sedaris which probably raised a few eyebrows but I didn’t see them since my nose was buried in the book.

Nice walk back home in the chilly spring air. Saw Stine with Alexander and I was more than glad to help her out by carrying Alexander up to their apartment. Of course I was nervous, ‘don’t drop the baby…careful…now wouldn’t be a good time to fall down’ all running in my head.

Of course I had the camera available and took some shots of Superboy who is now walking, a bit like a drunken sailor, but still- he’s walking. And saying ‘Oooo’ every now and then.




Me and Superboy

Me and Superboy

Jeezy Creezy- I love this kid!

The Big Country

Well things have calmed down, quieted down. Not that it was frantic or anything. Just running from Manhattan to Hillsdale to Hoboken to Garfield back to Manhattan and returning to Hoboken in the past 24 hours.

So I guess maybe it was busy, but I wouldn’t say frantic. Bill’s mother met my family for the first time, my brothers and their families. Annemarie is in California so she was unable to be here. It was a good time, lots of food, plenty of Guinness for me.

Good to see the relatives, if only for a few hours. An interesting thing, I’ve found concerning my brother Frank. We don’t see each other so much and when we finally meet we immediately get on each other’s nerves.

He gets snippy and I in turn, amp up my snippiness and for about five minutes things are tense. Then after that things cool down and are relatively normal. My brother Brian has the same thing happen to him when dealing with Frank. Just something interesting.

Yesterday after I had finished my shopping, just one or two last minute items I wanted to get, I ran into Lois DiLivio who mentioned that all the stimulation that Bill’s mother would get from being around so many people could be good for her and it certainly was. I did hang with Juan yesterday for a few beers and some jazz riffs which was great. He’s an adorable kinda guy. And Also heard from Pedro who is also adorable and called to wish me a happy crimble.

And according to Bill, last night she wouldn’t stop talking about what a good time she had and how she appreciated all the love and attention that she received. Of course there was some drama, there always is. But it’s not my drama to write about so I won’t.

I did my best to bolster some heartbreak though by not overtly putting down anyone, but rather by building up the one with a broken heart. But young love is complicated to the one who is in love and sometimes words of comfort go unheard.

Like I said there was lots of food and I was able to snag some Care packages for myself, though I did give one to Bill’s mom. The package I shipped to California got there in time, but the cd I ordered from Amazon, scheduled to be delivered yesterday, Christmas Eve did not get delivered.

I called Amazon this morning and of course was speaking to someone in India who apologized enough that it eventually had no meaning. She was merely someone who answered the phone and has no pull at all.

The cd was to be shipped from Texas to California but with the seven days of bad weather, it’s still in Texas. I was glad that I disobeyed my sister’s edict and also got my nephew Earl an iTunes gift card since the cd is now scheduled to be delivered by December 31.

I can ship a package across country with no problem, but the US Post Office cannot deliver a cd as promised. I really don’t like using Amazon at all but it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Bill and I exchanged presents, I got him some cuff links, a tie with buses on it and some festive red braces (suspenders), which he loved. He spent a pretty penny on a set of braces for me with a cigar theme on it, which I of course love. And I do love Bill and after all this, it’s good to chill out.

I posted some pics on my Facebook page, here is the link for that:

And fare thee well to Harold Pinter and Eartha Kitt.
Santa Baby goes to The Birthday Party.

How Deep is Your Love?

Well it’s a Sunday and it’s quite a nothing Sunday despite the sun finally coming out. It rained last night so there’s a dampness in the air. Last night Bill and I watched Dexter, and I sort of forgotten how good it is. Bill and I are quite enamored of the show and both think Michael C. Hall is really a very good actor.

Then we watched Saturday Night Live which was really good. They are certainly on point this season. I hope they can carry the momentum once past the elections. Of course Tina Fey as Sarah Palin was spot on. The Killers were the musical guest, also good as was Anne Hathaway hosting and Queen Latifah as Gwen Ifill- the moderator of the debates. I wound up staying awake watching Lost until 1:45, falling fast asleep as my head hit the pillow.

Slept until 9:30 and that felt nice. Bill was off to church and I was soon in the supermarket getting the papers. Saw Julio and Stine and the star of the show, Alexander once again. He’s getting more adorable each time I see him. And he seems to light up whenever I’m around. Of course I only see him maybe once a week so he each time he sees me, this exotic creature, it’s something new.

I gave them the John Lennon New York City baby t shirt I bought at the art and music festival last week. It’s for 12 months and he’s only 6 months. Which means I should see if Stine could take a picture of Alexander wearing the outfit my sister sent them a few months ago.

From then on it was pretty much a day of not much. Walked around Hoboken, finished the New Yorker from 2 weeks ago, and also picked up the 40th Anniversary issue of New York. I watched some of ‘From G’s to Gents’ on MTV. Basically the premise is taking thuggish young men and putting them in suits and ties and teaching them to speak and behave like well mannered adults.

Think of it as My Fair Gangsta. It was mindless and just some background noise actually. Probably the only ‘reality’ show I’ve seen this year.

Tonight I’m going to McSwells to see the Bird and the Bee with my brother Frank and two of his friends. We’re even having some dinner together which should be interesting. I don’t think I’ve eaten in a restaurant with my brother since 1999, though it is odd to think of McSwells as a restaurant. It should make for an interesting time I think.

Just killing time right now. Not going to show up on time since Frank rarely is. But he is being picked up by a friend of his and I have no idea about how prompt or tardy the friend is. Like I said, it’s been a lazy day and there’s really no rush.

Listening to the sounds of Hoboken and watching the sunset is where it’s at for me at this present moment.


Ok, just got back from McSwells, The Bird and The Bee put on a very good show. She’s so personable. In a different day and age I would have told Steve Fallon to get them to do a residency and play McSwells every Sunday night for a month.

Had dinner with my brother and two of his friends. Not the interesting conversation I had hoped for. Mumbly 50 somethings. Between the three of them they were all inept when paying the check and I wound up paying $50.00 for a meat loaf platter and 2 pints of Guinness.

Really hopeless 50 somethings the three of them. Frank gets a pass because of his stroke, but really embarrassingly inept the other two. If they were scamming, they got me good.

I was so annoyed though that I almost didn’t go to the show. Luckily the band was that good they took me out of my bad space and put me in a better space. At one point I went out for a smoke, a young guy followed me.

Nothing like that, mind you. Just two smokers smoking. He just turned 21 two weeks ago and was having a good time. Said it was his first time in a club, never drank underage or anything like that. Went to military school and all that.

It was his first time at McSwells and he asked me if I had ever been there before. I said I used to work there back in the day. He asked what day was that? Thursday?

He then went and tried to hit on two girls also out for a smoke and I went inside. Pints are now $6.00 and forget about buy backs from the douche bags behind the bar. No more tips for them.

If someone brings up an Obama/Bill Ayers connection, just ask them about the McCain/G. Gordon Liddy the convicted felon and his plans for murder connection.

Here’s Hoboken.
or Manhattan from Hoboken
actually NY from Hoboken

A Man and his dog

Alexander in his bouncy thing, looking like Bjork

Goo Goo Muck

I didn’t write about this yesterday but it was on my mind. A synchronicity of sorts. My brother Frank and I were talking about a few topics, one of them being a woman we grew up with passed away from leukemia a week ago, Dorothy Foglio. She didn’t have an easy life, major hearing loss in one ear that went undiagnosed for so long that Dorothy was regarded as slow.

She wasn’t, and I think it wasn’t until she reached adulthood that a significant hearing loss was discovered. Dorothy was the daughter of Jim and Lorraine Foglio who were good friends of my family. Jim was a great guy, really nice and always willing to lend a hand. He had four daughters which he loved but Frank and I figured he probably would have liked to have a son to play ball with.

His daughters ages roughly corresponded with me and my brothers and sister. Jim might have tossed a ball with me once or twice, something my father rarely did. My mother taught my brothers and me how to throw correctly not like a girl. One night in 1975 Jim had tickets to a Yankee game and he couldn’t go so he gave the tickets to my mother so that one of us boys could go.

My brother Brian was unavailable so the tickets went to Frank and myself. Frank was late of course and we drove to the Bronx in a drizzly rain, Frank telling me about some song about how the Red Sox were winning. I mentioned that trip to Frank, thinking it ‘funny’ since the last game to be played at Yankee Stadium was last night. Just something that was on my mind, that’s all.

Last night Bill and I watched True Blood while I wrestled with the computer which seems to have cleared up. That’s why the posting was later than usual and also the reason I got an irate phone call from Harpy whining about how late the blog was posted. Harpy would be the guy on a paper route who’s newspaper invariably wound up on the bushes.

True Blood was very good and very interesting since the guy who plays Anna Paquin’s dim brother was being videotaped dancing in his briefs with quite a large bulge that pointed to his left. That got our attention for sure. After that we watched Entourage where Ari Gold played by Jeremy Piven went apeshit and deservedly bitch slapped a rival agent in front of the rival’s staff.

Then we watched the end of the Emmy awards which Harpy called about during True Blood. Bill went to bed before the end of the awards and I stayed up and watched the usual bad news which keeps getting worse and worse.

Woke up to Bill’s alarm clock and heard that ‘more news on that terrible story later in the broadcast’. Horrible news? What now? More economic disasters? Going to work was scary thinking about all that. Nothing on the TV news said anything overtly horrible except for Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley converting from investment banks to holding companies.

I don’t know what that means but I keep hearing that yes it’s bad now, but it’s going to be a lot worse soon enough. Bush has a plan to give Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson a lot of power and money to bail out these corporations, with no questions asked and what Paulson decides will be the final word on the matter.

Fuck Bush and his plan. He allowed millions of people to be screwed and now he wants our money to bail out this monoliths? Call your Senators and Representatives and tell them you’re against this, that is- if you’re against that.
Cut n’paste

Today’s New Yorkers

Late addition: I just read on Joe.My.God.’s blog (in blogroll on your right) that McCain’s chief of staff is an out to his friends and family gay man. There’s an interesting and conflicted debate going on about it in his comments on the entry.

What do you think about a situation like that? Should he be outed? Can an out gay man be outed? There are some very interesting comments, what would yours be?

Voodoo Ray

Well I think last night’s entry was one of my best. It came quite easily too. I enjoyed it so much that I was the first to comment on it. I wrote it before I went to McSwells where I met Lois and her betrothed, Fred.

I walked up Washington Street distressed by the stroller set. Honestly these people with their strollers. A man and woman with a stroller and their toddler letting the kid look at and touch whatever he wanted until the kid just sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, mom with the stroller not moving and she and the dad were trying to reason with the kid to get up off the sidewalk.

Forget about making room for pedestrians like me, let junior sit where dogs shit. After I maneuvered around those three I was met head on with three young moms and their strollers, all walking side by side, stroller to stroller as if they owned the friggin’ sidewalk.

Julio and Stine are of course excused from this behavior simply because they don’t behave like that with Alexander.

I got up to McSwells where Lois and Fred were waiting. Lois offered to buy dinner but I had eaten already since when I got home I was famished. I did order some curly fries and shared them with Lois and Fred. Also had mayonnaise with the fries for that European feel. To further the Euro mindset I drank Stella Artois. Nice for a hot summer evening.

As I sat at the table with Lois and Fred I had one eye on the door looking out for my brother Frank. Once again it was old home week. Alice Genese, a few Bongos including super nice guy Jim Mastro and his wife Meghan the funniest girl alive. She brightens up my world when she’s around.

My brother eventually showed up and I think Meghan gave him a great big hug, thinking it was me. That’s what Frank thought. We do look alike. In fact a friend of his gave me a big hello when he saw me, not realizing that it wasn’t Frank until I said Hello back. It’s unnerving. I sometimes make a conscious decision not to walk around with a puss on since I’ve seen what Frank looks like with a puss on.

On a smoke break I wound up talking to two former denizens of the Beat N’ Path. We chatted about some people we had in common. I confessed a certain snobbery that McSwells people had towards the Beat N’ Pathers. One guy who used to run the Kitchen Table Music shows there told me of his first time at McSwells when gay people sat at one part of the bar and straight people sat at another. It sounded like bullshit to me since I had never seen such a thing and I sat wherever I damned well pleased.

The Individuals were good, but sorry to say, out of tune and dull. They had a nice crowd though. I hadn’t heard those songs in about 20 years and to tell you the truth, even though I liked them then, I could have gone another 20 years without hearing them again.

I’m sure they’re all nice people though I only know Glenn. Let me rephrase that, I don’t know if they’re all nice people. I’ve seen Janet through the years and she’s never said a word to me though we both know similar people. One time while in my suit and tie she sat opposite me on the bus and kept giving me the look that I know so well. The look that is, ‘He looks just like Frank…’

I just wanted to go home. The show ended, but Frank was in his element. Saying good night to his various friends. Funny- he used to have some comments about my friends, though I can’t remember ever commenting on his.

I was home a little before 12:30, past my bedtime. I have a real job now, a good job and needed to function on what was going to be 5.5 hours of sleep, and with the Stella Artois, it wasn’t a restful sleep.

Oh, how last night followed me throughout the day. I persevered and got through the day, even eating my usual healthy salad when my body wanted something more substantial. Still, I was able to get through the day and left at 4:00 instead of leaving a half hour later.

I was supposed to have dinner with two friends from my Wanker Banker days, but I had to help Bill out and his mom. Now I’m home again and I know I won’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.

Lois and Fred

The Individuals blurred

The Wrist

Open Late

A milestone approaches and I am inching towards it. I’m excited. No, really.

Add Some Music to Your Day

Damn it is hot out. Just past noon and it’s over 90 degrees inside, which mean it’s hotter outside. I just got back from the library and took a longer way home since it’s shadier. Right now I’m watching Aliens which is great.

The character of Vasquez kicks ass. She’s the tough Marine chick. I hate to see her go, she and Gorman in the vent, surrounded by oncoming aliens, blowing themselves up and taking out a few aliens in the process.

Of course it’s Sigourney Weaver’s movie and she rocks. It’s a good movie to watch. Most everyone is sweating. I did my best to hold off on putting in the air conditioner but I gave in. Right now it’s humming nicely, cooling off the bedroom.

Last night was a lot of fun. Brian Wilson at Brighton Beach. It was a free show, I met Bill there. Not too crowded at the beginning, though at the end it was a different story. Bill and I wandered around, me taking pictures of various interesting people.

One guy had a nice looking dog, the guy was a dick though. He started to complain, asking if I was taking a picture of him. I told the fat fuck, why would I do that? I said that if he gave me $5.00 I’d take his pictures before walking off telling him that his dog had better manners. That was the only trifling thing of the night and gave Bill and I something to laugh about for a few minutes.

Brian Wilson and his band were excellent. I had to explain to Bill, Brian’s story. Deaf in one ear, abused by his father, excessive drug use, overindulgence, weight problems and of course various mental problems. Bill was surprised by all that. I also explained that yes, Brian is sitting behind a keyboard, but no, he isn’t playing it. Just something Brian can hide behind.

Bill had no idea of the Brian Wilson stories, but luckily Bill knew most of the songs since it was nothing but hits. I also told Bill how the Beach Boys were the big American band for a while, top ten hits, then The Beatles hit these shores and all of a sudden there was competition that Brian was inspired by and vice versa.

It was fun to sing along with the band and the crowd to Help Me, Rhonda and California Girls among others. I gave Bill a capsule story of Good Vibrations and how it took six months to record. Also told Bill that part of the Dewey Cox story is about Brian Wilson. Bill didn’t know that but figured it had something to do with the goat.

Brian did two new songs, from his upcoming album Lucky Old Sun, one was called Southern California which seemed to be about the late Carl and Dennis Wilson. That was touching. I don’t know the name of the other song, so I guess I’ll have to wait for it to come out next month.

Bill knew some of the words to the set list too. Nice crowd too excepting the fat fuck with the nice dog which was good for a laugh. The train ride home was air conditioned, I lined up a few Beach Boys songs that the band played on the ride back, so Bill could hear them again for the first time.

Bill got off the Q train at Union Square and I rode on to Herald Square where I’d have a better chance of getting a seat on the Path train. It was interesting to give Bill a kiss good night on the train. Sometimes people disapprove, sometimes they don’t care. You can never tell. It’s a political act, kissing your same sex partner in public.

You really put yourself out there. If the wrong crowd sees it, there could be trouble. From a simple kiss between 2 men. Sometimes I’m nervous, sometimes I don’t care. I was prepared for trouble but it never happened.

I’m glad I wrote last night’s blog before since I was exhausted by the time I came home at 11:15.

It’s a beautiful yet awfully hot day. No need to go out into the world until later when it might cool off somewhat.

I was reminded of when I was growing up off from school during the summer, and my mother would have chores for my brother Brian and I to do during the day, telling us to do them in the morning before it got too hot. But being the dumb kids we were, we wouldn’t even get started until the afternoon, sometimes an hour before mom was due home from work.

And I do have to give a special mention to my brother Frank who was the biggest Beach Boys fan in our house. I wouldn’t have the appreciation or the knowledge of the Beach Boys if I hadn’t heard them so much, thanks to him when I was growing up.

Here’s some pics. Stay cool.

Brighton Beach residents

Fans queued up

Bill mid laugh. One of the things I love best about Bill is his laugh.

Brian’s in there somewhere

The Love Train over the years

Brian Wilson 2006

courtesy of wikipedia

One other thing, last night’s show was sponsored by Verizon among others(Verizon- always willing to tell the govt about what you’ve been doing). They encouraged the audience to send text messages and they were posted on screens through out the area.

Someone posted,
“We love you Brian, Love the Mansons’

Oh my god I thought that was hilarious.
Hopefully Brian didn’t see it.

Come Fly With Me

A pleasant Monday after a weekend of birthdays, none of which were mine. That would be in September which some of you knew already. It was a beautiful day weather-wise and as I write this clouds hover overhead letting me know that it will rain again if only for a few minutes.

I think I tried too hard on Sunday to duplicate the good feeling of Saturday’s posting. I know I did attempt it. Kind words from Annemarie and bhikku did the job of trying to polish too hard. Still I rallied and posted and hopefully it wasn’t too painful to read.

Girl Talk is still buggin’ me out. It’s so good and it’s driving me crazy. Little bits and pieces of other songs play and I usually start laughing when I hear it and then I rack my brain trying to figure out where that little bit came from.

Hopefully you went to his myspace page and followed the link to the free download. I got one continuous track, and paid the 10.00 fee so I will get the official cd when it eventually gets released.

I also got in the mail today, a previously viewed copy of Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. I still love this movie even though I hadn’t seen it in months. If you’re a music geek like me, I think you will enjoy it so very much.’Get out of here Dewey! You don’t want this!’, that’s all it takes for me to giggle. Worth checking out.

Work was really quiet today. Just me and 3 other people in. It was fine, I knew it was going to be like this. I ran a few errands, wandered around midtown. Lot’s of tourists in town and a lot of workers off for the week, due to the holiday weekend coming up. Even the commute in and out wasn’t so bad, meaning it was not as crowded as it’s been, only 8 people standing instead of 14.

I read the New Yorker from last week, a very funny Shouts and Murmurs by Simon Rich. I just ordered his book, Ant Farm through my library on the http://bccls.org system. Hopefully I’ll get it by Thursday.

Tonight I am meeting my brother Frank at McSwells for a secret gig by the reunited Feelies. They’re opening up for Sonic Youth on Friday, a Fourth of July show at Battery Park which is sold out. The Feelies are also doing 2 ‘practice’ shows tomorrow and Wednesday which are totally sold out, so tonight is for friends of the band.

I’m not a friend of the band, but Frank is friends with Stan Demeski the drummer who put him on the list with a plus one, which is me. So it should be a good show if not an interesting show. Who knows who will turn up? Who knows who was invited? Who knows if Frank got the correct night? All these questions will be answered in a few hours.

So that makes this the early edition. Tune in later I suppose for the rest of tonight’s saga.

Slippery People

It’s hummus out once again. Much like sitting in a sauna, wearing a damp wool sweater that itches. Today was the day of Bill’s birthday. Bill is 44 today and at heart he’s 14. Which is a nice position to be in sometimes.

Last night Bill stayed at his mother’s apartment in Stuyvesant Town, he’s been keeping an eye on her since her supposed leaving the apartment the other night and getting lost on 14th street. Bill was able to take his mother to church today and then they had a nice lunch, finally dropping her off at the apartment.

Bill and I made plans to go out to Garfield for my niece Meghan and her husband Rob’s first wedding anniversary, so a BBQ was in order. I made arrangements to have Meghan’s sister Cory pick Bill and myself at the train station, as well as getting a ride back to Hoboken.

Everyone was there excepting Annemarie, Rex and Earl since they’re stuck in Northern California much to their consternation? Dismay? Rotten luck? And it’s smoky out there, no sun which a 50 degree average temperature.

Unbearably hot and sticky here with intermittent rain showers that make the humidity worse. Much like it is now. It was good to see most of my family again, Brian and Karen with their three kids, Hillary, Brian and Cassie. Brian’s got summer school this year which is something both his father and I could relate to.

I told Brian how I used to have to go to Hackensack High School my junior year for summer school, usually hitchhiking up Essex Street. I was able to get a ride a few times with no bad results and I eventually passed the class somehow while my parents went on vacation to Disney World without me. Brother Frank was there of course, with Elaine.

Brother Brian mentioned to me that he sometimes reads this blog of mine which was a trip to hear. I guess he knows about it, he sends me emails to johnozed, so perhaps he took it a step further and did a search, or more than likely I told him about it back in 2005 while we were both getting our drink on at his wife Karen’s 50th birthday party. I didn’t think he would remember it, but here he was telling me about reading it. I mentioned that he should write a comment about it, which is what I tell everyone.

Everyone was in good moods and having a good time. All very pleasant, no heavy drama and just a thunderstorm that lingered for about 15 minutes before turning the Field of Gar into a swamp once again. Excellent cake by Elaine as well a great grilled food by my nephew in law, Rob. Bill enjoyed the cuff links I got him and I told him about the tickets, but not actually showing him our access to Xanadu.

Bill brought up that when we watched a clip of the show on TV, there were people on the stage sitting there. Originally he thought that it was a chorus, but then noticed that they weren’t singing. He asked me about that and I decided to tell him that was we were going to be seated.

On stage, watching the show from behind the performers. He got super excited about that, and I have to admit, I am super excited about it too. That’s next Sunday, something to look forward to.

Tomorrow is back to work, a full three day work week, how horrible. Boo hoo.

Does sarcasm translate online?

Time to chill out for the evening. Bill’s coming back later with some things from his mother’s apartment so I have to wait for Bill to ring the bell so I can go down stairs and help him up with whatever it is that he has.

Here are some snaps from todays festivities. Have a good week and Happy Pride to all!

The birthday boy, farty far this year.

Some of the party goers

The Bruthas

my niece Hillary

my niece Corinne

Mr and Mrs DeCarlo

cake! again!

Teacher of the Year 2008!

Gay Pride Day 2008