Tag Archives: Cigar Shack

I Miss You- Bjork

It’s been quite an interesting day. First off I went to bed earlier and slept later than I intended. It was alright, I didn’t miss anything really. Bill had off to deal with the play from heck this afternoon and he also had to go to the department of motor vehicles since his wallet was stolen while in Philadelphia and needed to get a new license. He kissed me good bye and I stayed in bed, trying to hide from the sun for a few minutes longer. It worked for a little while then my body asked, ‘Who was I kidding?’

So I got out of bed and showered, made some coffee and had some cereal. No plans for busking today since I was going to be on the other side of the Hudson River. I don’t think I am good enough to play on the streets of Manhattan, I don’t even think I am good enough to play on the streets of Hoboken which is why I usually stick to the waterfront promenade. Less money, less guts, more stamina. No I had people to see in Manhattan and I also wanted to pick up some good cigars while I was there.

I took the Path train since I had my foot path all planned out. And NJ Transit bus schedules between rush hours are screwed up. You show up for the scheduled 1:15 bus and finally a bus shows up at 1:50. No point in asking the driver since they are generally ignorant and more often than not they are the ones who are late and don’t want to be reminded of that fact. Believe me I have asked and got no definite answer in return just the general patented belligerence of most NJ Transit drivers, except for Chief.

I walked down Washington Street to the Path train, not seeing anyone I knew. Found a nice seat on the train, nice and air conditioned and not crowded at all. I read some more of the James Wolcott book and soon enough I was in Herald Square. From there I called my friend Jesse who was unavailable so I walked over to JR Cigar on Fifth Avenue. Found some very good and nicely priced cigars and snagged a few. As I exited the store Jesse called and I met up with him for a few minutes before jetting further uptown.

Yes, Columbus Circle was my destination. The scene of the crime as it were. A few weeks before I was emancipated from the cigar shack courtesy of the bruised ego of Zack, the manager who professed to be so spiritual as to not have an ego, I lent a customer my copy of Luis Bunuel’s memoir, My Last Sigh. I’ve had a few copies of the book and lent them to friends or even gave them to friends and since this was the last copy I had and unable to get it again since it is out of print, I wanted it back.

So with some schedule coordination I was able to meet ace customer Lou Moreno who handed the book over. Lou is busy running a theater company and was juggling phone calls. He apologized for being unavailable to hang out and I totally understood. Lou went his way and I started to go mine when I ran into Jerrode, a former cigar shack employee who still works in the area. He was interested in hanging out so I happily obliged. We had a good talk. He’s turning 47 next week and new management at the store where he works is making a once happy work environment a bit hellish.

As we sat and talked outside the cigar shack area, another former employee of the cigar shack popped up. It was Sean who was interested in talking to me so once Jerrode went back to work, I met up with Sean. We walked over to the salad bar where I used to eat and had a nice lunch. Sean got married and has a baby on the way. He swore he told me he was getting married but I’m quite sure he didn’t. I congratulated him between bites of salad.

We swapped tales of the cigar shack. It turns out something I didn’t believe about him was true. He owned up to it and he regrets it, but what’s done is done. Steve Gray was right apparently (posted for those cigar shack employees who might read this). He also told me that I had been replaced by a nice guy, a former customer named Ryan who is now working part time. Ryan looks like I used to look like if I was a few inches shorter and about 50 pounds heavier minus 25 years. It was good to see Sean cleaning up his act. He is happy and doing well and living with his wife in Brooklyn. Sean went back to work and I started to head towards the bus terminal. But I had to pee.

I remembered that I did tell some neighbors of the cigar shack that I wouldn’t be back unless I had to use the bathroom and sure enough that is what I did. It’s a public restroom and to my chagrin it was definitely cruise central. I recognized the vibe from 30 years ago, a bunch of guys standing around waiting for the odd man out (me) to leave so they could get back into whatever it was they were doing before I relieved myself.

After washing my hands and making my way through about 6 guys standing around, I headed out to the street, walking what felt like being a floor above the cigar shack. It was a nice day and after stopping by Boots and Belts, a nearby S&M store I was out on the street, relighting a cigar that I had let extinguish earlier. I was glad to have made the jaunt to the area and saw some good people. Too bad the cigar shack puts out a strange vibe, but that could have been because Zack and or the Possum might have been working. I was happy not to see either one of them.

Still Looking for song lists readers…help a blogga out!

According to Stephen N via Twitter and Facebook, Songfacts are having difficulty. Maybe they’re under attack, rendering them as ‘unsafe’.
And at 8:05PM, Stephen N commented that Songfacts is/are up and running. Thank you Stephen N, whomever you are!


“what fresh hell is this?” Dorothy Parker


Flashback!


07 I Miss You

I Miss You- Blink 182

Yesterday was such a nice day. Nice enough that I don’t feel like writing today, but here I am writing again. If Truman Capote were around and reading blogs he might have said ‘That’s not writing, that’s typing’. That is what Truman supposedly said about Jack Kerouac. I can’t fill Kerouac shoes, he was a 10.5 and I am a 12. It would be painful and awkward and I would be in dire need of an orthopedic shoe. I just returned from busking again, not too busy a day though my guitar playing has improved somewhat. I hadn’t busked since last Thursday.

Like I wrote, yesterday was nice, really a top day. Pleasant weather, nary a cloud in the sky. I did some filing, my nails have gotten back to where they should be. I strolled the waterfront promenade once again, enjoying a cigar. I found a spot and sat and read Lucking Out by James Wolcott. I’m enjoying reading about his exploits with Pauline Kael, hanging out at CBGB’s and a fixation on porn. When I finished reading yesterday, AIDS was beginning to make its appearance. The grim reaper and it’s scythe taking out a generation of gay men and soon to spread to non-gay men.

I remember hearing about GRID- Gay Related Immune Deficiency, or the gay cancer as it was first known. It was the beginning of the paranoia of the pandemic and I was still deep in the closet, living the two lives that I led back in the day. One of the symptoms was a loss of appetite, a wasting away. I told someone that in the future, overweight men will be the desirable set following the death of the clones. It didn’t take into consideration that there would be two sets, the gym bunnies constantly fixated on chiseled abs and toned bodies and the other group being the bears, the hirsute, stocky men.

Having never set foot in a gym I lean towards the bear contingent though I consider myself to be a wolf, and a lone wolf at that. When smoking was permissible in Central Park, when I would have the time to check out the disco skate circle I would be either opposite the bears on Bear Hill or above the bears at the top of the hill enjoying a cigar and enjoying the tunes. Since the smoking ban I haven’t been in Central Park. In fact since I was dismissed from the cigar shack I haven’t gone north of 47th Street.

While sitting and reading I got a phone call from Billie in DC. It had been a while since we last spoke and we kept missing each other on various phone calls. He’s doing well, working and in good health thanks to the government of Washington DC. I told him the story about my dismissal, how the guy who claimed to have no ego was pissed off and his ego bruised by what I wrote exactly. Billie was great and laughed several times at my tale. He knew I was unhappy there and claimed it was god’s doing that got me out of there.

He mentioned that he was thinking about taking a Bolt Bus from Washington DC and having a day trip to Manhattan. That would be great and since I have the time it seems likely that it would happen. It would be easier for Billie to come up here than for me to get to DC since in DC we would need a car to get around where in Manhattan no car would be needed. Billie’s visit is something to look forward to and hopefully we will get together soon enough.

I walked around Hoboken afterwards, talking on the phone with Lois and running into my friend Roger with his wife Dina and their 3 month old son Kennedy. What a happy chubby baby. Dina looked great as did Roger. It was fun catching up with Roger for a while and I walked them back to their car before heading home. Bill was home when I came home, so happy to see me. He was in better spirits than he was earlier. He had gone to Philadelphia on Saturday and while there his wallet was stolen, pickpocketed.

He had enough to get to Manhattan but had to borrow some cash from the producer of the play he is working on. We watched the closing of the Olympics, annoyed with Bob Costas and Ryan Seacrest endlessly talking over whatever as going on. We surmised it was because Americans needed to have things spelt out for them, instead of just showing the images without comment. They cut out Ray Davies singing Waterloo Sunset, and also Muse while postponing the Who, who were mediocre. And still no Elton. What was that about?

And I am DJ’ing from home again at the local tavern right now…











Kennedy!


The Nick Colas haircut!


Jimmy Roselli


05 All Night Long