Posts Tagged ‘Central Park’

It’s a Long Way to the Top

Saturday, September 5th, 2009

Wow. Just got back from the first major bike ride of the year. I think I did close to 40 miles, if not more, though my odometer said 50 plus miles, but I doubt it. I am pretty tired though.

Stretched before and after but still I am a Zombie at best.

I thought about doing it last night but didn’t say anything. Bill and I watched an Eddie Izzard DVD that I took out from the library. Being a free DVD from the library means that there’s a good chance it won’t work, and sure enough the last two chapters were unwatchable.

We did watch the extras which were fun up to a point then it started freezing up and next thing you know it’s back to the library for Eddie Izzard. Watched the news after that and then it was time for a good night’s sleep.

I know tonight will be an even better sleep.

So I was up and around this morning, did the bagel/newspaper shuffle. After a nice breakfast and after reading the paper I decided to get the bike gear together.

Everything was where I left it a couple of months ago. Hard to believe it’s been a few months since I last went bicycling.

I kissed Bill good bye and headed downstairs where I stretched and tried to push over the tree in front of the apartment building.

Filled up the tires and it was off to the 9th Street Elevator to Union City. Saw the first couple of very good looking men on bicycles. Of course they weren’t wearing helmets like I was, raising my dork quotient up just that much.

Over to Palisade Avenue which was pretty much smooth sailing. The obligatory stop at 127 Jane Street where a US Marine Corps flag was hanging underneath and overgrown weeping willow that didn’t exist 7 years ago.

Back onto Hudson Street, no sexy, handsome Hector outside Five Corners liquor store. Hudson Street was busy but not overwhelming. Up to North Hudson County Park, named after James Braddock aka Cinderella Man.

Called Bill who thought I was in Bryant Park, which I wasn’t.

After a brief rest, up to the George Washington Bridge, where I was surrounded by the weekend bicycle riders who fancy themselves in the Tour de France, all geared up in branded clothing and thousand dollar bikes. I ride for fun, I don’t know why they ride.

Stopped at 178th Street where I called to see if Harpy was around. I didn’t want to hang just say Hello, but it was just as well since his cell phone went unanswered.

Headed down that very steep hill right at the start of the bike path for me, just under the bridge. Another rest then I was non stop to 59th street.

Got called a jerk by a sit down rider, one of these riders who sit in a chair and just pedal with a flag flapping behind them letting everyone know that they are there and to watch out for them.

There was a bottle neck of pedestrians and no one had a bell or a whistle to alert them to bicycles on the way. I had a horn which I tooted and said as I passed ‘doesn’t anyone have a bell or a whistle?’

That’s when I was called a jerk.

I just continued on my way and rode up 59th street and headed into the park. Watched the skaters for a while then decided to do a near lap around the park.

Not a full lap up to 110th Street, but used the short cut at 100th Street. Good looking cyclists everywhere.

I just wanted to avoid the killer hill, too steep and I figured I had done enough at that point. There were a few hills that don’t look too bad but they do have a slow incline which also takes a lot out of you.

Back to 59th Street and back on the bike path. Rode that to the World Trade Center Path train and then over to Exchange Place in Jersey City.

A nice ride through the Newport area but it still pisses me off how bike unfriendly is when compared to Manhattan.

One of the reasons it took me so long to do this bike ride today was a sudden fear of how long it is, and how for the first half I ride amongst cars which is unnerving sometimes.

Wouldn’t you know it, as I riding through Church Square Park just a block and a half away from my apartment, I nearly took a spill.

My front tire got caught in the space between the sections of the sidewalk and I couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t fall, just planted my feet and stopped.

A minute later I was in front of my building stretching again.

9.5.09 Bike Ride 001

9.5.09 Bike Ride 003

9.5.09 Bike Ride 005

9.5.09 Bike Ride 009

9.5.09 Bike Ride 012

9.5.09 Bike Ride 055

Old tree damaged by big storm a few weeks ago

Old tree damaged by big storm a few weeks ago

♫ La la la! ♪

♫ La la la! ♪

Hold Still

Sunday, August 23rd, 2009

Well I had better get started before True Blood starts. A bit tired after walking around the canyons of midtown Manhattan in sheer mugginess.

There was a threat of rain so I carried a big ass umbrella and wore my work boots. Last time I was in Central Park and it rained it was a mess, so I tried to be prepared. It made for a cumbersome walk around Central Park but I managed.

Summerstage is mainly over except for a few paying shows and lot’s of strollers had taken over Bear Hill. I guess there are a lot of people who couldn’t get out of town or were tired of being cooped up yesterday from the rain.

A lot more musicians and street entertainers all out trying to make that elusive tourist buck. Not many places to sit and chill out.

Before I went into the park I did stop by the office to see if there were any more updates on the project I’ve been assisting Greg Stevens with. Part of that is reading his emails and I was surprised to find that the project that I was doing under the auspices of it being under the table doesn’t seem likely.

I came across an email from the check writers in Los Angeles asking that I fill out an I-9. Which would not make it under the table, nor off the books. And it’s an uneasy position that I find myself in since the email was not one of the emails I should have been looking for.

Greg Stevens is on vacation and to bring it up to him could mean I invaded his privacy. I could email the check writer in Los Angeles directly and ask her the status then break it down t her without leaving a paper trail.

To them it’s not a lot of money, but for me it could definitely help me out. So I guess I will do that tomorrow.

Last night Bill and I watched The Panic in Needle Park, from 1971. Definitely the seedy side of New York City. It was good, not great.

I told Bill of how my Uncle Joseph would call every park in New York City ‘Needle Park’ and he was probably right about that, even though when visiting Uncle Joseph and Aunt Lil in the Bronx, Needle Park was where we would sometimes go when the grown ups had enough of me and my brother Brian being antsy from sitting around my Uncle’s house for so long.

Sad to say my Uncle Joseph isn’t the guy he used to be. It turns out that Brian visited him in his nursing home today and he didn’t know who Brian was. Sad, he was always a funny outgoing guy to us. I couldn’t really say how he was to other people though.

He was a bit racist and I used to make excuses that he was from the old school and resistant to change. Now he sits blind and legless in a nursing home, unable to recognize one of his few living relatives.

Almost time for True Blood. See ya.

8.23.09 NYC 003
8.23.09 NYC 024
8.23.09 NYC 028
8.23.09 NYC 043
8.23.09 NYC 046
8.23.09 NYC 034

Don’t Fall In Love

Saturday, September 20th, 2008

Last night was most chill, and cool. Chill in the apartment, me and Bill watching Rachel Maddow and recordings of the Daily Show and The Colbert Report, followed by Bill Maher and cool weather wise. I was pretty much wide awake after having taken a nap when I got home.

All pretty good shows. Bill was watching Chris Rock on his laptop while wearing headphones and laughing at the most inappropriate times during Bill Maher. It was odd listening to Andrew Sullivan or Naomi Klein talk about some serious issues and hearing Bill chuckle,

Will I. Am was the third panelist and he didn’t have much to say except when Bill Maher discussed his documentary about the insanity of religion. My Bill went to bed soon after and I stayed up to unfortunately watch the last 45 minutes of Balls of Fury, the ping pong movie starring Christopher Walken. It was odd and elicited a giggle or two but overall not worth watching.

Woke up this morning around 8:30 and went out in the world picking up bagels for the family on the third floor. Julio was feeding Alexander while Stine was getting ready for a baby shower for Julio’s sister. Hung out with them for a while before heading upstairs and having my own breakfast.

Bill was getting ready to see his mom and I read the Daily News and started doing laundry. Another Saturday another bike ride. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I rode up the elevator to Congress Street and proceeded up Palisades Avenue, getting bananas in my old neighborhood.

Still wasn’t sure where I was going though the bike decided on heading north. I pedaled in agreement and eventually found myself in Fort Lee by the George Washington Bridge, after briefly talking to my sister on the cellphone while stopping in Cliffside Park. Had a quick bite to eat then I rode across the bridge.

Several other riders in bicycle riding gear passing me by in groups all shiny in their spandex and branding. I didn’t know until I was in the thick of it but today was a big festival for the Little Red Lighthouse underneath the bridge. It’s a children’s book too you know. Strollers and families everywhere slowing me down. I got around them with no problem and decided on a different route.

I got off the bike path and rode up to Riverside Drive and then down 96th street into the park. There was supposed to be something for the play, Hair going in in the park but I couldn’t find it. I rode over to the skate circle and sat watching Disco Granny and the guys on Bear Hill.

Bear Hill

It was nippy out and I was only there for just short of an hour. Rode down 59th street where on the hill between 10th and 11th Avenues some woman decides to make a U Turn just as I am hitting a nice speed. I yelled, ‘what the hell are you doing you fucking bitch’ she says I should just go around her, into oncoming traffic. A flip of the bird and I was on my way to the safety of the bike path again.

Rode to the World Trade Center and caught the Path back to Jersey City where I stumbled upon a Jersey City Irish Festival. Lot’s of people that looked like my tribe, most of them carrying cups full of Guinness. I thought about getting one for myself but decided to head on home and make dinner before meeting up with Rand finally for a pint or two at McSwells.

7 World Trade Center

Jersey City

Neumann Leather Building

Observer Highway

Desafinado

Sunday, August 31st, 2008

Well today has been an easy day. Nothing strenuous or stressful. All rather pleasant. Didn’t go to the shore, even though Chaz called at 9:00 this morning. Too late, we would hit traffic and Chaz had to get back early to take his pal Andy Bear to the airport. So that was a wash out, figuratively. Still a lot of people away from Hoboken today, most stores closed for the holiday.

Right now there is a party a few buildings away and they’re singing a karaoke version of Blitzkrieg Bop. I guess it’s near impossible to sing it badly, but they’re giving it a go. A polite round of applause as they now launch into Won’t Get Fooled Again.

I’m sitting next to an open window, hearing it all as Lord of The Rings is playing behind me. The last one, Return of the King. I started watching the deluxe editions last night, stopping half way in the second one and starting up again this morning. It’s been that kind of weekend.

Today I went into the city, to Sao Paolo it seemed as today was Brazil Day. Lot’s of Brazilians and their admirers on Sixth Avenue from 43rd up to 56th Street. Crowded, lot’s of people everywhere. Live entertainment on a big stage so if you wanted to walk up Sixth Avenue you had to walk up Fifth Avenue to 47th Street.

It thinned out, going from thousands to hundreds. Lot’s of sexy people out. I decided to make my way up to Central Park. Walked to where the trombone quartet was playing last week, finding them to be a trio this week. Their duffel bag was filled with singles, though they probably could have used some Euros since there were plenty of European tourists around.

Wandered over by the skate circle, wished I could skate, but it’s too late for that. Should have tried it a long time ago, now I’d be afraid of falling and breaking something, or worse yet, looking like a quadragenarian learning how to roller skate.

I pass them by all the time when I ride my bike. There they are on roller blades, arms and legs akimbo. Walked back through the park after listening to some very fine disco, through the Brazilian crowds back to the Path train where I lucked out and snagged a seat after walking around most of the afternoon.

Bill’s home asleep for a few hours, I watching the end of the Lord of the Rings, captivated which is keeping me from finishing tonight’s entry. I know how it ends so I’ll just keep writing. It’s just that it’s the deluxe edition with extras so I’m constantly hearing scenes that aren’t usually broadcast on TV.

The karaoke quieted down, crickets chirping. They’ll be around for a few more weeks I guess, the crickets. Unless they’re still doing the karaoke and if that’s the case, this is quite possibly the best version of a Buddy Holly song with some very convincing Crickets.

Bus Dem Shut

Sunday, August 17th, 2008

Just got home about an hour ago. Made a pound of pasta yesterday and I still have enough left over for tomorrow. It’s not bad. It’s the usual weekend fare, pasta, chicken with sauce. No pesto, that’s the Thursday thang.

Last night didn’t do much of anything. Wrote the blog, edited some pictures. The Olympics were on but without Bill’s enthusiasm it didn’t hold much interest for me. Today was going to be different. I was heading into the city to go to Summerstage and check out Sharon Jones and The Dap Kings.

Not a motorhead, but I thought this was worth looking at

I hopped on the bus and once in the city I decided to walk around, up to the park. I planned on walking up Park Avenue, a little out of the way because they had closed the street to traffic, leaving the streets to pedestrians and bicycles and kittens! Where they got the kittens from, I don’t know. But the last day for the street being closed was yesterday so no kittens today.

Too thin!

I bought a different cigar, a La Flor Dominicana Double Legero. All I know is that it was Dominican. I got a good deal on it and strolled up Fifth Avenue puffing away and look at all the other pedestrians and tourists roaming around in the shady side of the avenue. It wasn’t as crowded as it was yesterday. A lot less people, but still plenty of toddlers.

My cigar and a dandy…

Yesterday in an odd moment I was talking to Annemarie on the phone while in the park and I mentioned that there were so many babies, that I wondered if it was because of the blackout that I wrote about on Friday. Annemarie brought me down to earth and punctured my omnipotence. She’s good like that. Reminded me that the blackout was five years ago, not last year.

Rock people

Tree People

The line to get into Summerstage

I sat on the rock and enjoyed my cigar, no one seemed to mind, Other substances were being smoked as well. Of course there’s one in every crowd. Some guy in a white hat was sitting maybe thirty feet away from me stood up with his friend and started to walk away, but not before the guy in the white hat turned and looked at me and said, ‘We’re leaving. You’re ruined everything with your cigar. It stinks.’ I just looked at him and said ‘Bye’.

Be on the lookout

Next to where the guy in the white hat sat, was a couple. The girl said she liked the smell and the boyfriend agreed loudly enough. I thanked them and said that I though the guy in the white hat had an ugly hat. That happens from time to time, albeit rarely.

Some sort of confrontation with a guy usually. I think the last time was last year on my birthday. After lunch I decided to smoke a cigar and was walking down the street when some yutz starts screaming at me, hoping that I would die since I was smoking a cigar.

The illegal beer vendors showed up and I had myself a Heineken and grooved to the opening acts, Menahan Street Band, and Naomi Shelton & The Gospel Queens. Both were very good. Naomi Shelton was gospel of course and the Menahan Street Band were styled like the Bar-Kays from Stax. Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings were great but it could have been a little louder.

One more beer and a surreptitious puff and I had to relieve myself. Wide range of people in the park and a ton of tourists of course, all clutching tourist guide books in so many different languages. I watched an older couple, white haired probably in their late 60′s sitting on a bench taking pictures of each other.

Lot’s of toddlers climbing the rock unattended to, somewhat foolishly since the rock is riddled with broken glass in various crevices. No one got hurt. At least while I was around. Not on my watch.

Headed back to the Path train, crowded but I snagged a seat since I knew where the door was going to open. I guess that was a little bit of instant karma. I was soon home heating up some very good leftovers. Bill’s here watching the Olympics as it starts all over again tomorrow.

It’s A Sunshine Day

Saturday, July 26th, 2008

It was a beautiful day yesterday and it continues today. Last night was so nice I actually left the apartment and walked around for a spell. I smoked a Padron and wandered Washington Street. Cafes and restaurants were bustling.

20 years ago I would always bump into someone I knew, nowadays I don’t know anyone. People moved, sobered up or overdosed I guess. Some of you who’ve I known have done that.

I enjoyed walking around by Pier A, a few fishermen, some couples and various groups of friends. I’m basically a shut in, I go to work and I come home. That’s about it. I forgot about the social scene that exists in Hoboken.

Big doormen checking IDs from various vapid 20 somethings that I could have sired if I was so inclined. I probably fit the bill, walking around smoking a cigar whereas everyone else was wearing the branding that they pay a lot of money to promote.

I strolled by Church Square Park on my return, disappointed that the regional basketball games weren’t happening. I hope I didn’t miss them entirely. I could hear the referee’s whistle from where I sit in my apartment, but never heeded the call.

The walk lasted an hour and I was soon back home, not watching anything in particular and going to bed not too long after that. That’s my Friday night in Hoboken.

Woke up around 8:00 this morning, taking my time before I headed out to do some shopping. I needed to get some more Stevia, some lettuce and of course bagels and the newspapers. Came home, had a nice breakfast and tried to think of something to do.

I watched SCTV: The Early Years and while it’s still funny, it really hasn’t aged too well. Plus after watching current comedies without laugh tracks, it’s unnerving to hear one from 30 years ago.

I decided around noon to go for a bike ride. Nothing planned really, just seeing where the bike would take me. I wound up riding to the Ninth Street elevator and rode it to Congress Street in Jersey City. Up Palisades Avenue, down Hudson Street in Weehawken through my old neighborhood. Some new buildings have gone up since I was last up there.

I also found that some drivers are terrible when dealing with a bicyclist on the road, but the ones talking on their cellphones are the worst. Really dangerous to everyone. And I was almost doored twice. New Jersey is so NOT bike friendly.

I’ve heard talk for years of a path from Bayonne up to the George Washington Bridge but it’s just talk. The right palms aren’t being greased. I take the side streets which are generally wide enough but still one has to maintain strict attention to everything that is going on. That’s a basic rule when riding a bicycle and no, I don’t wear an iPod when cycling. I have enough songs floating around my head and they provide an ample soundtrack.

I had enough water and made it to Fort Lee safely. Then it was over the bridge which still intimidates me. I’ve been riding across it for years but still it freaks me out. No stopping, just getting from point A to point B, from New Jersey to New York City.

On the bridge I get passed by, by various ‘serious’ cyclists with more branding. US Postal Service Lycra and spandex gear, and various other bicycle companies on $1,000 bikes. I’m a bike rat. I wear the bike shorts but keep them underneath whatever shorts I happen to be wearing, and the usual collared shirt with a back pack on. And my bicycle helmet.

There’s a lot more dumb riders than previous rides, who stand at the bottom of steep hills and decide that would be the best place to have a chat as you’re barreling towards them going 35 miles per hour. Or the two blondes who decide that even though that certain bike path is narrow, why not stop and discuss hair tips right then and there?

I made it to Central Park unscathed, and rode over to the rock by Summerstage where nothing was going on, at least not at 3:00. I then rode over to the skate circle which was just starting up. Some of the same characters that I’ve seen over the past dozen or so years.

Roller Granny, The schizo man who was on some news magazine a few years ago. Great at his job but he occasionally winds up somewhere and has no clue how he got there, but still he winds up roller skating around and around. The buff brutha who’s been there for years. Even some of the same spectators I’ve recognized over the years.

I usually sit in the same spot which is opposite the unofficial Bear Hill. I found that out via Joe My God’s blog. I read that everyday and comment occasionally on it. Perhaps if I met Joe without his group I would say hello, but there were a few bald, heavy set guys and I couldn’t tell which one was Joe anyhow. I’m more of a wolf than a bear anyway and my lycanthropic instincts told me to keep away.

It was a brief visit in the park and I was out of there maybe 90 minutes. I decided to go back to the bike path via 59th Street. No problem getting out of the park despite all the bicycle taxis driven by utter and complete morons. I was on Broadway behind one of these twats when he decided to make a U Turn in the street.

He sort of apologized and I told him was an idiot on a tricycle who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. That’s when he decided to hit my back tire. I didn’t stop I just kept going flipping him the bird as he yelled Fuck You in a Russian accent.

I decided to do something on the way back. Instead of catching a Path train from the World Trade Center station to Exchange Place, I took it easy and treated myself to a ferry ride to Hoboken. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon. $8.75 for a one way fare that takes 10 minutes to cross the Hudson River.

I know that it’s the fuel costs as well as paying the salary of everyone involved in the operation, but it would be cheaper if I had a car and drove into the city myself. But it was an exorbitant amount for my cheap ass. A single passenger without a bike is $7.75. That’s not bad since once you get to the city you get a bus that takes you in the general direction of wherever you want to go.

Me? I have a bike, I would get there myself thank you. Shanks mare. Next time the Path train for sure. And I wouldn’t have to listen to these newcomers to Hoboken prattle on about where the best nightclub is on 14th Street. I enjoyed today’s bike ride despite other people being around.

26 miles roughly. Not bad for the first time since last year. It would have been further if it I didn’t take the ferry.

The Hudson River

Off the bike path in Harlem

The Promenade

Shorty watching the dancers

Remembering how he used to dance…

Straight out of the news magazines….

Roller Granny

Buff brutha

Some blogging bears on the hill

Sailing past Florence…umm…err… Union City

Slouching towards Hoboken
way