Tag Archives: Dan Moore


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

Three Minute Hero

Ahh. A few years ago Bill and I saw a friend of mine have a recital. Dan Moore, the friend had rented out a studio space and had a pianist accompany him as he sang maybe a dozen songs with a couple of stories inter sped throughout. It was a good time, and similar to an idea I had, when I had ideas, that Bill and I dress up and cover Frank Sinatra and Count Basie’s album ‘It Might As Well Be Swing!’ I was to be the singer and Bill was to be the pianist.

I revisited that idea on the way home tonight listening to the forgotten Specials album, ‘In The Studio with the Special AKA’. I was listening to the song Break Down The Door and felt I could sing my own interpretation with Bill’s accompaniment. It could be fun, with a couple of shots under my belt perhaps. Break Down The Door was the B-side on the Specials single, Free Nelson Mandela.

I’ll always remember the night before Mandela was going to be released, I was spinning records at McSwells and I played Free Nelson Mandela. Martin Kelly came over to me and said it was the last time I would have to play that song. It’s still a good song, but a little dated. Oh the Specials have such a spot in my heart.

I found out in the latest issue of Mojo Magazine that the ‘We thought you were inferior’ header above my letter was part of a series of quotations from the movie, Planet of the Apes, not directed at me (see the post titled Ego Tripping Out) . So Mojo doesn’t think I’m inferior which is a weight off of my mind. Apparently that’s what they’re doing now, a line of dialog from a movie posted above each letter published, though that ‘inferior’ line didn’t do much for my self-esteem.

At work with the new people I am busy as ever and I don’t mind at all. It would have been great to have Juan in the office, but money is too tight. I’m doing all the work and finding some ways to get to do my own thing. For instance, I was in touch with the Roundabout Theater Company regarding Sunday in the Park with George and their volunteer usher program. I found out you have to go to the box office and inquire directly.

I planned to go to Studio 54 where it’s being performed at lunch time, but there was a file that needed to be delivered a few blocks away from there so I offered to save the company some money and deliver it myself, enabling me to check out the program at the box office. I go and talk to the proper people and found that all the volunteer slots are filled for the next two weeks, then the play closes.

Oh well.

I admit my ardor had cooled somewhat and I’ll have to be content with renting the dvd from Netflix of the original cast from 1984. I’m sure some volunteers will drop out between now and then, but I won’t have any way of knowing and they’ll have no way to contact me. Plus I don’t feel like lugging around black trousers and a white shirt, or wearing such an outfit, day in and day out for two weeks waiting for that call.

What am I? A stand by waiter?