Well today has been quite an interesting day. Interesting enough that I am not going to write about last night. It started out with Bill leaving the apartment at around 5:00 this morning.
He was driving a bus to Atlantic City. Bus driving is his passion and he has a gig working for a company based out of Garfield NJ. I vaguely remember Bill kissing me goodbye and me telling him to be careful.
I was fast asleep by the time the apartment door closed.
Woke up around 9:00 and showered, had some coffee and then headed out into the cold damp morning for the paper and some bagels. Spoke with Julio. He called me and asked if I would be available between 2 & 4 o’clock this afternoon.
I said sure and since I was headed out I asked if he wanted any bagels. He said no for himself but asked for a plain bagel for Stine and a cinnamon raisin bagel for Alexander. Not a problem.
The usual canary face behind the counter at the bagel shop. I was online behind the Jesus guy. Jesus guy is an acid fried casualty from the 1970’s, and went to school with Martin Kelly so he probably graduated from high school in 1978.
I’ve never seen Jesus guy inside before, and here I was right behind him. The bagel shop owner saw Jesus guy on line and asked what he wanted, then signaled for him to wait outside and someone would bring him a cup of coffee.
Jesus guy doesn’t ask for money, he just stands and stares all day long.
I got my bagels and headed to the supermarket, then stopped by Julio & Stine’s apartment. Julio asked Alexander where is John and Alexander pointed at me with a big smile on his face.
I gave him a Chewbacca holler, which made him laugh. I’m also known as Chewbacca thanks to Julio.
Stine, Julio and I made plans for me to come down while Alexander napped around 1:00. About 15 minutes later, back in my apartment, Julio calls. Stine would like me to come down around 12:45. No problem for me.
I was there on time, as Julio and Stine got ready to go to a wake a few blocks away. I brought a few issues of the New Yorker to read since I am now behind a few weeks.
Who knew I used to read so much while commuting?
Alexander was fast asleep, and the apartment was quiet enough that I could hear him breathing while I read. Of course a few times when I couldn’t hear him, I went in and checked to make sure.
Stine made it back and left Julio at the funeral parlor. The wake was for a relative of Julio’s. Of course Alexander was wide awake a few minutes after Stine came back.
Well in that nether land between sleep and being awake at least. I made my way upstairs again and got ready to head out. I was going to check out the Hoboken Artist’s Studio Tour again.
Only 2 artists I wanted to see, Hiro Takeshita and Tim Daly. I spoke to Annemarie on the phone as I headed towards 2nd Street & Madison Street. Earl had seen MGMT last night in San Francisco and had a great time she reported.
I also had a cigar, which went out all by itself as I walked u the stairs of the first apartment building I lived in, back in 1984. Hiro buzzed me in and asked ‘Who is it?’ I yelled up ‘Konnichi Wa, it’s John.’
He was very happy to see me and showed me his latest artwork. Had a really good time visiting him. He remarked that it was so cold and damp, that he hadn’t had many visitors.
Bill and I went to his exhibition at the Hoboken Historical Museum and he told me he sold all the works in the show, which was good news. Had a couple of glasses of wine with Hiro.
He saw I had a cigar and said I could smoke it, he didn’t mind and enjoyed the smell of the cigar. So I lit it up again and a few visitors stopped by. One seemed enthusiastic about Hiro’s work (which I posted on Facebook) and I hope he wasn’t talking through his hat.
I exchanged info with Hiro and made plans to stay in contact. He said he was going to give me an artwork for Christmas, which was embarrassingly generous. I stammered and he insisted.
We left it at that as I headed over to Tim Daly’s studio. I went in the back entrance at the Neumann Leather Building where Tim’s studio is and found myself in a totally different building.
I did see Jean Paul Picard’s photography. I didn’t take any pictures since I didn’t feel comfortable doing so. I thought it would be odd taking pictures of a photographer’s work with the photographer himself so close by.
Nice work though. He has a show coming up at the Hoboken Historical Museum next month so that’s something to look forward to. Jean Paul pointed me in the direction of Tim Daly’s studio in the building next door.
I passed by some rock group/performance artists outside doing something but since it was cold and damp I kept on truckin’.
Made the way to the 5th floor studio and saw a neighboring artist, Tim Heins whose work was a lot of fun. Tim Heins seemed like a lot of fun as he and 2 other people were packing up a piece of art to go.
I took a few snapshots, and someone asked if they were for a newspaper or magazine. I explained that they were for my blog, of which a few people read, maybe 6 that I know of, including Kap in Australia. Hi Kap.
Made it into Tim Daly’s studio where Tim’s wife Sheilah was sitting on the couch talking. I kissed her hello and looked around. I love Tim’s work. I wish I could afford it. It’s cool that I can’t, gives me something to aim towards, some art to buy if and when I win that lottery.
I met Mike Longo who also has a current show at the Hoboken Historical Museum. I know his brother Pat from McSwells and he’s also a friend of my brother Frank. Some talk between Mike and myself.
I told him I enjoyed his show and I really did. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have brought it up at all. I can’t lie about things I don’t like so I’d rather not talk about it at all.
Took some pictures of Tim’s stuff and wandered around for a while, having a giggle with Sheilah and 2 other guys who’s names I can’t remember. No good with new names lately. It was almost Seinfeld like, talking about people with nicknames we gave them like Cave Man and Pixie Spiky.
It was a good time but the tour was closing down so I said goodbye and headed out. I did stop at another studio neighbor of Tim’s, a gent named Santiago Cohen.
It was a familiar name and when I saw him I recognized him as a customer from the video store I worked at almost 20 years ago. A name like Santiago Cohen isn’t that common or easily forgettable.
I told him I remembered him from the video store and he used to come in with his son. Well his son is now taller as Santiago gestured with his hand, and probably 25 years old now I reckon.
A few times today I told people about the blog, how I write at least 500 words a day, and that it’s generally a personal thing, my observations and occasional (!) rants. I joked that if I stub my toe in the morning I try to figure out how to get 500 words out of it.
Of course I haven’t done that.
But the day wasn’t over. In the middle of the tour I got a call from Julio. Turns out he left his keys in Stine’s handbag and the handbag was in their apartment and could I buzz them in the building?
I told him I was in the Neumann Leather Building. He said OK, I could see them later when I get home, that they would just go to Julio’s aunt’s house and wait.
As I walked up Washington Street on the way home, I knew I was in Julio’s aunt’s neighborhood so I called him. He said I could just leave the keys under the mat outside their apartment.
So I did that and came home and struggled with the uploading of the tour pictures into Facebook on Bill’s Mac. A little while later, the buzzer buzzes. It’s Stine with Alexander.
A few minutes after that, Stine knocks on the door with the baby in her arms. Those aren’t the right keys. I could have sworn they were, I’ve been carrying them around for years now. But they weren’t.
I went down there and tried them thinking that maybe Stine didn’t know how to get into her apartment and I did.
Then I had them come upstairs and wait in my not baby proofed apartment. Alexander was of course all over the place with Stine directly behind him. Luckily the apartment wasn’t as bad as it was when Annemarie stopped by over the summer.
But still compared to Stine’s Scandinavian sense of order it’s a friggin’ pigsty.
I played the guitar for Alexander, D/A/E chords singing ‘Alexander’ over and over. He loved it and rocked in the chair. He is so like his father. With a more civil tongue.
Julio showed up from the funeral home, dressed in his funereal best. He was going to have to climb down the fire escape and in through his bathroom window.
In the dark. In the drizzle. In his funeral suit.
Stine worried that he was going to slip and fall and I hoped he would at least yell if that happened so we’d know he didn’t make it. Still, I kept playing guitar for Alexander’s enjoyment.
Finally someone likes my guitar playing! And he’s 18 months old!
Julio phoned, letting me know that he was in so Stine and Julio went down, Stine thanking me profusely for the shelter. I asked Alexander for a high five and I got 2 of them from his excited self.
But wait, that’s not all. After all that I get a call from Bill. Remember him? The guy from the beginning of the story?
He was driving on the parkway, and wasn’t sure if he would make it back to catch the 10:00 train back to Hoboken from Garfield. He asked if I could call my niece Corinne and ask if she could drive him back to Hoboken if he missed the train.
I called Corinne and she said she would help him out. I also told her that there was $20.00 in it for her.
It’s almost 10:00 now and I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m fine with that.
All the pictures have been uploaded on Facebook.
cut and paste if the link doesn’t work
after 1880 words written and many toes stubbed I am too tired to upload the photos from Bill’s Mac to this here blog.