Tag Archives: Hudson River

I’m All Over It

What a beautiful day it has been. Simply splendid. Nice weather, not humid, an occasional breeze.

I slept soundly last night. Bill didn’t. When we left East LA last night it was cool and breezy and the comment was made about having the windows open while we slept. I was hesitant, figuring it that it still might be too hot.

But when I finally went to bed, Bill had the air conditioner on. I decided to turn it off and open the window. I don’t know if the open window prevented Bill from a good night’s sleep, but I think it helped me. I suppose we’ll continue the experiment tonight and see how that goes.

I was up hours after Bill left, and after breakfast and showering I dropped off a suit at the Cary’s Dry Cleaners and went to the bibliothèque. On the way I spoke to Pedro who got back from South Beach the other day.

He had a blast and recommended that I visit there some day. Unlikely, but I did not say no.

In the bibliothèque, Diane the librarian, remembered a DVD she recommended the other day, Role Models starring Paul Rudd. So I picked that up.

But my main thing was the fact that a book about the Beatles, You Never Give Me Your Money by Peter Doggett finally came in. It was released earlier this month and for once BCCLS did not say it was too new, like the message I got when I requested Iggy & the Stooges Raw Power remaster. And I requested it from the Hoboken bibliothèque.

So far so good with regards to the Beatle book. The prologue was all about 8 December 1980, how Paul was shocked, George wouldn’t answer the phone and Ringo was drunk. Cynthia Lennon was staying with Maureen Cox, Ringo’s ex when she got the call.

John’s Aunt Mimi was in bed drifting in and out of sleep, listening to the BBC World Service and not know if she was dreaming or not when she heard about John’s brutal murder. That was the prologue, not I’m in chapter one, where Brian Epstein has died and the Fabs are starting up Apple Corps. The book promises to be full of Apple juice and so far I’ve been entertained.

I sat by the river and read, smoking a cigar. The sweet Karen Kuhl stopped by for a minute. She’s playing the Pier 13 show tomorrow night, but I won’t be able to make it since it ends at 10:00 and I won’t be getting to Hoboken after work until 10:00.

She’s also unsure if she could make the party in 12 days (!), and that’s too bad since I had hoped she’d sing a song or two from the Gutbank days. She’s unsure like I said so who knows? She just might. Then Karen split and Rand pulled up on his bike, and we had a nice chat as well.

It was almost like a talk show, I’m on a bench and a few friends stop by for a chat. Simple premise. It could be done I suppose. I’d be willing to do it on Public Access, even in the winter and in the rain.

It would be a surreal affair and with me being me, I don’t see how it could be any other way.

I always wanted to have a talk show. I remember way back, growing up and sitting in mounds of snow with Donna Foglio and playing talk show. I wanted to be Mike Douglas and she was a reluctant Totie Fields.

A Beautiful Day in Hoboken

Hold Your Head Up

The earlier posting I did today, marked yesterday, Lady Godiva’s Operation was about 945 words. So I guess I did my 500 words a day already. But no, that was just coverage of last night. I did somethings today, but not too much.

I read the paper and watched Lord of the Rings basically on cable. Good stuff to take my mind off the fact that I drank a few pints more than usual last night. I didn’t feel too bad, but I was definitely not running at full speed.

Bill came home from church and was relaxing here while I watched LOTR. At around 2:30, I thought it best that I take a nap. Actually my body insisted that I get some more sleep so that’s what I did, leaving Bill with LOTR on TV.

I fell into a deep sleep, interrupted when Rand called saying that he was going for a bicycle ride around town. Was I willing to go? It seemed like a good idea, but having just woken up I was still horizontal and could have used a little but more sleep.

I told Rand that I didn’t think I was up for a ride, and that walking would be better suited for my 47 year old self.

I tried going back to sleep after Rand’s call but that didn’t happen. Instead I got out of bed and found Bill watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour which he likes a lot. Me? Not so much. I got myself together and set out to see the beautiful afternoon.

It was indeed a nice day and there were plenty of people out determined to enjoy themselves. Foolishly I walked through the Italian Festival and found it was jam packed as opposed to last night which was sparsely attended and rather damp.

No spot to sit and read, at least not in my preferred area so I walked along Sinatra Drive and found a bench in the shade of Steven’s Tech and read Uncut magazine. Called Rand a few times with updates on where I was but got no response.

I did see a replica of Henry Hudson’s Half Moon go sailing by. 400 Years since ol’ Henry found the river.

Eventually I got hungry and started walking home. Bill was watching an HBO documentary on Mickey Mantle. I made myself some chicken with penne and pesto.

Bill has headed off to the final rehearsal of the play that is going on tomorrow night. I’m home now watching the ending of LOTR. I did pick up a little hair of the dog, some Guinness for my viewing of True Blood tonight.

So it’s been a pretty good day basically.

Tomorrow I’m going into the office to help Greg Stevens out for a few hours and might also go in on Tuesday as well, but I’m sure I will know about that tomorrow.

That’s a late afternoon thing so I’ll just be staying in the city and then heading downtown to see Bill’s play at Theater for the New City. At least that’s the plan so far.

Anything could happen between now and then of course.

The Half Moon

The Half Moon


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Bummed Out City

Yeah, It’s been one of those days. I should have stayed in bed until the afternoon instead of rising at 9:00.

Last night Julio and I took yet another walk along the river, a few other people looking at the wreckage or at least trying to. It was dark and all that could be seen were police boats anchored around the site where the helicopter and the plane hit the Hudson River.

Like I wrote yesterday there were no survivors.

Not much to see yet people kept coming and staring into the darkness that lay between the shores of Hoboken and Manhattan.

A block or so away the girls were all dolled up for a Saturday night on the town. Big bouncers stood next to them as the girls tried to entice Julio & myself into various bars and clubs.

We just wandered up the boulevard, running into the Latino kid who works at the shoemaker shop around the corner. He invited me to stop by the store sometime, saying he had a gift certificate for me.

Since the last time I was there in November 2008, things had gotten ugly real fast. It wasn’t his fault, it was the runner they have, some GED program drop out who turned up the heat on the problem at hand. A born & raised Hobokenite from way back when with nary a tooth in his head.

The Latino kid was gracious and shook my hand and wished me a good evening before going on his merry way.

Julio and I continued walking when we ran into Bill who was just getting back from stage managing a play in midtown, off off Broadway.

Actually we heard him first, saying that Julio and I made for a nice couple. The three of us walked back to our building, Bill explaining his plan for the night at 10:00.

He was going to rent a Zip Car at midnight so he could drive around Bergen County and explore the routes for the bus company he’s going to be driving for.

Having grown up in Bergen County I knew of some of the routes, but I wasn’t about to head out there and go driving. He expected to get back in a few hours, like around 2:00 or 3:00.

I didn’t stay up, I just went to bed. When I woke up this morning, there was Bill in bed. I asked him what time he got in and he said 5:00 making me feel I did the smart thing and stayed home.

It’s ridiculous, but Bill wants to drive a bus that badly and who am I to say otherwise? He doesn’t drink, he doesn’t do drugs. He just wants to drive a bus.

Now I’m at home after walking around by myself. I was going to head into the city, just to get out of Hoboken and brave what appeared to be approaching storm clouds.

But, I missed the bus and walked along the river and sat, enjoying a cigar and finishing up the New Yorker and reading some of the Tom Waits biography by Barney Hoskyns.

Not much to see again, just some boats and some buoys making where debris was submerged as well as various news trucks parked alongside the road.

I should have gone into Manhattan.

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News crews in their tents

News crews in their tents

Down By The River

Just got in from the cold. It’s been a bitterly cold day today and luckily I didn’t wind up in the Hudson River like the passengers on the US Air plane that landed on the water a few hours ago. I heard about it at work and watched it as it unfolded.

All the passengers have been reported safe and in various hospitals. No major injuries, some hypothermia from the freezing waters of the Hudson, 40 degrees. The ferries were first on the scene followed by NYPD and FDNY boats and the US Coast Guard.

From Hoboken411 YouTube. Couldn’t wait for permission.

I called Bill to tell him the news, which he hadn’t heard. I had a feeling the ferries would be tied up with the rescue and decided to take the Path train since the buses would be filled with ferry passengers unable to get across the river. Bill and I agreed that the Path would probably be the better bet.

It’s been reported that a flock of Canadian geese flew into the engines and tore up the fan blades. So with only a few days left, I guess BushCo. will invade Canada for revenge. So it was a bad thing that happened but so far no fatalities making it a semi happy ending.

This morning it was snowing out which was a surprise to me. Nothing too much, just a dusting. Some icy spots but no spills on my part. Took the short cut through Grand Central Station, navigating my way through the commuters coming in from upstate and Connecticut.

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As I was going through the doors on Lexington Avenue, I saw Gerri Delaney walking in from outside. I used to work with her at Staffmark, a staffing agency from 2001 to 2002. We worked side by side and got along well.

We also worked during 9/11. I was let go from the agency the following summer and when the first anniversary of 9/11 came up I gave her a call to see how she was doing. A lot of people had unhappy memories of that day and I figured since we both went through it together it might be a good time to reconnect.

Her reaction on the phone had the tone of ‘why are you calling me?’ That was the last I spoke with her until at some point last year when she somehow called me at work wondering how I was doing. I gave short answers and dutifully took her phone number on a post it which I stuck onto a printer that I eventually threw out.

I didn’t say anything to her this morning as I passed her and I didn’t look back either.

Despite the plane landing on the water it was pretty much a quiet day. Cold, but quiet. Bill had a visit with Medicare to see about getting a home health aide for round the clock care. Hopefully that will go well and Bill will be able to stay in Hoboken again.

Awfully cold in bed at night without the big lump on the right.

For the past couple of days or so I’ve been posting a lyric online from some random song. Today’s lyric was ‘In walked Bud with his exploding nose, he’s been giving it maximum today/shouted’ how the devil you in trouble I suppose, all you ever do is runaway’.

The song was written by Graham Parker and covered by Dave Edmunds/Rockpile, called ‘Crawling from the Wreckage’.

I am so Nostradamus.

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from http://obamiconme.pastemagazine.com/
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