Tag Archives: Julio

$2.00 Off

Well today has been an improvement over yesterday. My niece and her husband returned to New Jersey safe and sound after the Boston Marathon. They were safe yesterday and I would like to think they are safer at home. The whole family is relieved and also saddened by what happened.

My niece posted a photograph of herself and two running friends, right past the finish line. It was hard to believe that within a few minutes after that the bombs went off. Their friends all made it safely home as far as I know, and that is by judging by what their Facebook pages said.

I slept fairly well last night and woke up in good spirits. Bill was up and doing his thing and soon after I showered and had my coffee a text from Juan came through, asking if he could stop by. Of course he could stop by. Bill didn’t mind and neither did I.

I did have some errands to run beforehand so Juan would have to accompany me on my rounds. It wasn’t so bad. One was a trip to the grocery store and the rest were on Washington Street.

I ran into Julio yesterday before all the shit went down and he asked me if I still had his pocket sized bicycle pump. We had a good talk. He’s a new guy, more mature. Good to see him one on one since when it with the wife and kid they all vie for my attention. I can take them all one at a time, but three on one can be overwhelming, sometimes joyfully so.

And Juan was pretty funny this afternoon. Where he gets his cutting remarks from, I don’t know. He did grumble when I asked him to hold a cigar when I ran into a store. I reassured him that it would only make him look ‘butch’.

We came back home, Bill getting ready to head out while Juan and I watched Archer which we had on the DVR. And then just like that, my two favorite guys headed out. Juan to go get some lunch and Bill off to Manhattan.

I was fine with it, not that I had any say in the matter. Julio was also in Manhattan so I didn’t see him today. Still I have the bicycle pump should he call or text me again. I’ll be around.
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Kashmir

I Start to Run

Document 35. That was the number assigned to this file in Microsoft Word. Document 35. The point of it being document 35 doesn’t seem random, not at all. It is just the 35th document, perhaps for the year 2013. That is the explanation that makes sense the most. According to Word Press, I have posted 2,476 entries and this will make it the 2,477th. I lost count after the first month, but it was easy back then. It was before I decided taking Sundays off from writing. That was when I was becoming a servant to this blog. Now I am merely a savant.

I came across a cache of some papers, papers that weren’t swept away by Sandy last year. I guess I rescued them, along with the 45’s I had a few months before. I found a couple of versions of a film script I was supposedly writing with Julio in the 1990’s, when Julio was a production assistant on a film that a mutual friend was making. There was creativity in the air and once again my up to then unseen writing skills were brought up and it seemed like a good idea to collaborate with Julio.

It was probably the last time I collaborated with anyone which sucks since I am a very good collaborator. I helped write a script in the early 1990’s with John Bruce, an amazingly creative guy from the Maxwell’s era. He liked what I wrote, so much so that he made it a point to tell me that it made him cry. If he Google’s his name and this comes up, well I am 100% sure that is what he said. No embellishment on my part. It’s one of the things in the 1990’s that is not fuzzy at all. I think the script was called ‘This is My Plus One’

I find it good to have someone to bounce ideas off of, it works for me. And in the 1990’s with Julio I went into it wholeheartedly. Perhaps too much as I took it seriously, feeling that it was my last chance at doing anything. The script is untitled and there are a few drafts of it. I remember writing it on an electric typewriter using the equation of one page being one minute of film. I think the longest draft has about 25 pages and we were aiming for a 10 minute short film.

I think it could be saved somehow. The dialogue is quick and conversational, not quite His Girl Friday or Gilmore Girls. It is snappy though. I’m no Ben Hecht & Charles McArthur nor am I Amy Sherman Palladino and I certainly don’t claim to be. Julio proved to be uninterested in writing the script and I probably came on too strong. He had more important things going on in his life and I had this script. And soon it was put in a drawer, or what is more likely, underneath the dresser.

It’s about 2 characters named Alan and Vincent and their escapades in the 1990’s. I based Alan on myself and Vincent on Julio. The dialogue is almost verbatim, at least snatches of it. Written while living in Weehawken it is based on the time when I was living in a basement apartment in Hoboken. It was right around the time when Julio and I became friends via Maxwell’s. Nowadays Julio has his hands full with his wife Stine and their son Alexander and work as a stage manager as well as being a landlord in Hudson County. And I am going to do is look into seeing what I can do with the script.
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Downtown

I Speak Because I Can

Friday Friday, spent running around town. It was a nice day, if not cold. A trip to the bibliothèque, the supermarket nearby and a visit to the post office. Bill and I watched Lincoln the other night and I asked if he had ever seen My Left Foot. He hadn’t so I requested it from the bibliothèque, as well as Searching for Sugar Man, a documentary about Rodriquez, a singer from Detroit who had a record deal that went nowhere and after dropping out of sight, became a big star in South Africa of all places. I haven’t watched it yet, so that was gleaned from the DVD cover.

My Left Foot was the second movie I saw Daniel Day Lewis in, the first being My Beautiful Launderette, which I saw at Maxwells in the 1980’s when the wonderful Martha Griffin was running the film series. I remember seeing My Left Foot with Julio in Secaucus when it came out. Of course by the end of the film my bladder moved behind my eyes. I also saw my mother in the role played by Brenda Fricker in the role of Christy Brown’s long suffering and self-sacrificing mother. Irish stereotypes perhaps, but it did come out a few years before my mother shook off her mortal coil.

I also remember Catherine Cloud talking about how she couldn’t believe (though she did) that Daniel Day Lewis was the same actor, playing a mid 1980’s London punk in My Beautiful Launderette as well as a Victorian dandy twit named Cecil in A Room with a View. I did not see A Room with a View until a few years later when I was able to appreciate Catherine’s astonishment. And it is one of my favorite movies, definitely in my top twenty or thirty.

I did see Daniel Day Lewis once in Union Square Park in the 1990’s when wandering around with Julio one afternoon. He was alone and both Julio and I recognized him, not that he was disguised or anything. We thought we would tell him that we thought he was a great actor, but decided against it, leaving him alone to eat his lunch. No one else seemed to know who he was and I suppose going up to him and drawing attention probably would not be that good an idea. I do think he is probably the best actor working today.

Tonight I am home alone, Bill is driving once more, I think it is to Atlantic City. That is where he usually winds up, though last week was extra special, being an extra on Lawn Hors d’œuvre and driving a bus as part of the role. Of course I will write about when it is broadcast so you can clear your DVR of Cake Boss and Armenian Idol. I do have movies I can watch, and I am catching up on the New Yorker once again. And I have a few books to read that I got for Christmas as well as a book, ‘Suddenly, a Knock on the Door’ by Etgar Keret which is also on loan from the bibliothèque.
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Heartbreaker

I Run to You

Another day spent helping out Shlomo at the cigar shop. I thought Hanukkah was over but for Shlomo it’s all holidays, not just Chanukah. I don’t mind, a free cigar and someplace warm with a view of the street is all I need right now. I am happy,they are happy so everyone is happy, at least in the square footage in which I sit. And isn’t that what is most important at the end of a fiscal quarter when working retail? Israel just popped in looking for Shlomo who seems to have escaped from his electronic ankle bracelet.

A friend asked me the other day if I was going to the Maxwell’s Christmas party which was last night. I wasn’t invited and I was fine with that. I have a history there but it’s really not my scene anymore. I don’t know anyone that works there except for RoDa and Todd and neither of them invited me. It’s not like the Steve Fallon days where it was an open bar and filled with White Castle burgers. I did go a few years ago and tried several times to leave early but was stopped by various friends and acquaintances. I eventually did leave and wandered the streets of Hoboken for a few hours with RoDa.

Last night I was glad to be home. Bill had a lot on his chest that he needed to unload and it was my turn to listen. In fact I had to remind myself to just listen, not suggest anything, let him vent. I was happy to be there and gave a hearty ‘pshaw’ when Bill apologized for venting, I had to remind Bill that he listens to me vent often enough he should be certified for HVAC work or at least a listing as a casual therapist.

I do have a modest complaint. Some friends have taken to complaining about their bonuses this year. I am usually silent as they complain, waiting for my moment when I can remind them that they are complaining about their bonuses to someone who is currently out of work. Sometimes they understand, sometimes I get ‘Yeah I know but…’ In my years of working I have gone without bonuses more often than I had actually received them. There was that last Christmas at Wanker Banker where they were so desperate to get rid of me, they surprisingly screwed me over.

My assistant Ms. Miro and I discussed what we had gotten and she had gotten double what I had received. Then came the memo from good ol’ John Griff who said we weren’t allowed to discuss our bonuses with our co-workers. Once again a day late and a dollar short for that pretty polly John Griff. My co-workers and most of the people I supported heard about my being screwed and rallied enough to pass the hat making for a nice Christmas bonus despite what the useless and spineless Maggie Alexandre and her human be-in cabal had to say on the matter.

Today has been an interesting day otherwise. Leaving the building this morning on one cup of coffee I waved to people I did not immediately recognize, Julio & his father in law. Julio could tell I didn’t know it was him at first and of course mocked me for it. Later I ran into Tom, Mike and Juan at separate intervals. Good to see everyone, and everyone seemed to be in the holiday spirit. Now I am home, just had some dinner and not planning on doing much of anything tonight. That could all change once Bill eventually gets home.
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Make The World Go Away

I Love The Dead

Today was another beach day and another excellent day. Today it was Annemarie and myself along with our nieces Hillary and Cassie, our brother Brian and his wife Karen’s girls. They have a son also who was working and couldn’t make it. It was another gorgeous day with temperatures in the upper 80 degree range and the ocean temperature was about 76 degrees. Annemarie has been staying in Saddle Brook and this morning drove up further into Bergen County to pick up the girls while I waited in Hoboken. There was traffic and things started a bit later than we had planned.

It was all good though, I was sitting on the stoop as they pulled up. Cassie was in the front seat not willing to give it up. I rarely pull rank but this morning I had to. I am an adult, much older than Cassie and therefore she had to sit in the backseat while I took the front seat. Though the car manual says there is an adapter for an iPod or some other device, there was no adapter so last night I made a few CD’s for the drive down the Jersey shore and I think they went down well.

An uneventful ride to Sandy Hook, no need to stop off for food or snacks or sun block since we got what we needed yesterday and also made food to bring down. It was a tight schedule since Cassie had to be back home by 6:00 this evening. The ocean was like bathwater once again, we all went in except for Cassie who just stood at the waterline. We tried talking her into jumping in with us but she was not having it and would rather see us frolic in the water. To each their own, so we frolicked.

The time flew by as we had fun and huddled under the umbrella and before we wanted to, we had to head home. There was no time for an ice cream stop which turned out to be the smart idea since we hit bumper to bumper traffic on the way home. We made it just a few minutes past 6:00 which was just fine. There was Brian and Karen waiting for Cassie. Hillary being 20 years old does her own thing lately. Whatever functions they had to attend was their own business and Annemarie and I were back on Route 17 headed south.

We were both pretty hungry and decided on pizza once we got to Hobkoen. Being in a car meant parking would be a problem but I remembered a coal oven pizzeria across from Julio & Stine’s place. Since we were so close I invited Julio to join us, he’s going to Denmark tomorrow. But Julio was stuck at work, needing to stay longer than he liked. We sat outside on the sidewalk and enjoyed a so-so pizza near a mockingbird’s nest with newly hatched mockingbirds making noises while mama flew around looking for food.

Now I’m home, and that’s about it. Tomorrow won’t be a beach day. We’re heading into the city to have dinner with a friend of Annemarie and her husband Rex. Instead we will probably check out some galleries in Chelsea and maybe check out the latest Woody Allen movie. It seems fitting since Annemarie and I saw a few Woody Allen movies back in the day when we were both living in Lodi. Tomorrow would make it extra special since it would be the first time we’d be seeing a Woody Allen movie in Manhattan. Who cares that it takes place in Rome?




Hillary, Me, Annemarie and Cassie


Sky-Larking

I Love Rock And Roll

Well the temperature online says 87 degrees Fahrenheit and the ‘real feel’ is 90. When I checked earlier it said 98 degrees with a ‘real feel’ 101 degrees. It felt like wearing a suit though I was clad in a cotton shirt and shorts. If I was working it would probably feel like wearing two suits. It’s still hot and from where I sit I could see a storm approaching from the west. It will be welcomed, the rain that is, and hopefully it will be breaking up this heat and hummus. It is taking its sweet time getting here.

Last night was quiet and warm. Bill was off driving to Atlantic City again leaving me to my own devices. By devices I mean this here computer and the television as well as some guitar. Three devices as far as I can remember. I’ve been trying to figure out how to play Walk Don’t Run by the Ventures and it hasn’t been easy. I’m OK at playing chords but the leads are a bit difficult and I am trying to be more dexterous. It wasn’t that long before I gave up on the Ventures and just strummed a few songs from memory.

On the television I put on a Harry Potter movie since there was nothing else on and I wanted something familiar. It was background noise basically but still fun to watch the glimpses I’d seen. Julio did contact me to go out last night but today was a special day and wanted to be clear headed for that so I turned down his offer. He stopped by this morning to pick up the drill he lent me. Now looking out the window the storm clouds have dispersed leaving not one drop of rain. Julio has begun texting me about doing something tonight.

I am content to stay home and do nothing once again. Julio is flying to Denmark next week and we did talk about having a drink before he goes, but right now I am broke. If he wants to pick up the tab that’s fine with me, but I would understand if he doesn’t. My sister texted me, she is still at the airport in Arcata, which is weird since I thought she would have gotten here to New Jersey by now. But I misread the info yet again and she is due here tomorrow morning not tonight.

I guess I was getting a little ahead of myself. Another Harry Potter movie is on, and the sun is shining quite brightly through the window. The storm has passed and the forecasters were wrong yet again. I wish Julio still lived downstairs. It would make hanging out that much easier and cheaper. Golden light fills half of my apartment as the sun slowly sets. And now having looked in the direction of the sunset and accidentally looking at the sun, I see spots in the shape of the sun all over the place. Impressive considering that the sun is at an average distance of about 93,000,000 miles (150 million kilometers) away from Earth.

We had better take care of our environment or else the sun will roast us. And I know a bit about being roasted by the sun having had sun poisoning a few times when I was growing up. Blisters all over my body, swollen appendages are no fun despite what Anna Wintour might say. This was before sunscreens and whatnot and all I had for relief was old wives tales, cold compresses soaked in tea. I don’t want to go through that again and wouldn’t want you to either.









17 Walk, Don’t Run ’64

I Love My Shirt

It is hot. It has been hot the past week or so. This is nothing new. All across the US it has been hot in record temperatures. Still there are fools who do not believe in climate change and they also do not believe it is manmade. No, with all the cars and trucks on the roads, with environmental protection regulations reduced or discarded, with the rain forests being depleted, there is no way that climate change could be manmade.

Fucking idiots. In the winter when there is a record paralyzing snow storm these jackasses usually say ‘how about that global warming?’, not realizing that as they say that in 20 degree cold, on the other side of the planet forest fires and dust storms are all the rage. I mean just look at the cloud formations. Some crazy shapes or dark and violent storms appearing out of nowhere, unforeseen by meteorologists knocking out power for a million people in the Maryland/Virginia/Washington DC area.

It was in this heat that I went out this afternoon. It was the last day to feed Lois and Fred’s cat and I was more than happy to do it. For a moment I was happy to at least get out of the apartment. I did the same thing yesterday, but once on the street I noticed I did not use deodorant which left me feeling a bit overripe. No worries, I just went home after feline feeding and applied the deodorant and sweated some more in the apartment.

Bill was around, napping for a little while before getting up much earlier than expected. In a totally different move from last year’s July 4th Bill and I made plans to see the fireworks on the Hudson River. Julio and I had been texting about meeting up, and initially I thought we would go to 4th Street in Hoboken and watch there, but since Julio was uptown we headed that way. Of course there were a lot of people going in the same direction. Enough people to make meeting up a bit difficult.

But we figured it out. Julio pulled up on his bicycle while Bill and I sat on a curb smoking cigars. Rand and Lisa texted that they were at 14th Street and we were only 3 blocks away but there were a few thousand people between us so we decided to stay where we were. The fireworks were excellent. Usually it’s seen them once, why see them again, but they were impressive. Perhaps it was because they were so close and so loud.

Bill and I held hands while watching while Julio took pictures to send to Stine and Alexander in Denmark. In the back of my mind I had to be wary since two men holding hands can attract unwanted attention. In fact while Bill and I were waiting for Julio, a young gay couple walked by us holding hands. One of them was wearing a Wonder Woman t-shirt so I said ‘Hey Wonder Woman’, but he was too sullen to acknowledge and probably thought Bill and I were two Hoboken guys smoking cigars and putting him down. As if a Hoboken guy would recognize Diana Prince’s breastplate. Friggin’ newbies.

After the fireworks we decided to stay put and let everyone else go first. We stood and talked for a while, Julio telling us about his apartment with fantastic air conditioning. Julio was surprised to hear that we hadn’t installed our unit yet. I mentioned that Bill doesn’t mind since he’s Puerto Rican and Bill promptly shot that one down. That line was from a year or so ago.

I had come home from work, crazy hot outside and before I left the apartment that morning, I shut the windows since it was supposed to rain. It may have rained, it might not have, but when I came home there was Bill sitting in the dense heat in the apartment with the windows still closed. I asked him why he didn’t open the windows and he said ‘I don’t mind the heat, I’m Puerto Rican!’ So it’s been a running gag since then. But not anymore.

As we walked from the Hudson River there was a lot of traffic on the streets. Bill mentioned that the buses were not running down Washington but using the side streets instead. As we passed a bus stop there were a couple of dozen people waiting for a bus. I asked Bill if the buses were not coming their way and he said they weren’t and went to the people to tell them where they could catch the buses. As he was doing that Julio and I crossed the street. I asked a police officer if buses were running down Washington Street and the cop said they were.

Julio and I looked at each other and said ‘uh oh’. The dozens of people that Bill was talking to were walking past us to the designated stop. Bill made sure the last person who was waiting for the bus was on their way. We Bill caught up with me & Julio, we told him what the cop said. Bill said the cop was wrong and their were posters made telling people where to catch the bus. Why they didn’t read it, I don’t know. Bill was right, the cops were wrong. We soon split after that, Julio riding off on his bike and Bill and I walking home holding hands.

Bill stayed up for a while when we got back home, I stayed up and watched the directors cut of Alien. It was just as good as I remembered and didn’t notice much that was different from the previous times I had seen the movie. Maybe the scene where Tom Skerritt and Harry Dean Stanton are still alive and asking for Sigourney Weaver to kill them was different or new. Would I have stopped what I was doing to get Jones the cat? I couldn’t really say.

I woke up this morning and after some coffee and cereal, I installed the air conditioner again and waited for the cool down. Slowly the bedroom was getting cooler and after a while I turned it off and headed out to feed the cat. I wore a hat this time and while it kept the heat in my head, it also kept the sun off my face. I decided to go to the really big supermarket to get a few things and saved some money once again.

Lois had given me a big bag of socks from where she works. Apparently they are samples and they are nice to have, so I’m walking through the supermarket with the bag of socks as well as a canvas bag with a bottle of water in it. I get what I need and decide to head up to Washington Street before going home. There is a store on Washington that has a nice produce section and the celery I buy there lasts longer than celery bought in the supermarkets. Maybe it because it’s packed in ice, but it lasts about two weeks whereas the supermarket celery goes limp within a week.

I walk through the heat, a panhandler asks me to buy him a soda to which I reply I am unemployed. He grimaced and walked away. I walk into the store and go to where the celery and produce was kept on ice but all I see is some oranges. The woman behind the counter sees my consternation and asks what I am looking for. I tell her and she tells me they’re not carrying it anymore. A week or so ago they get rid of their deli counter and now this.

Perhaps they’re going into the liquor business since they do sell that as well and you know there are simply not enough places to buy liquor in Hoboken. A liquor store on almost every other block will not do. So yeah, I was disappointed and overheated and had to get out of there as fast as possible before I said the wrong thing.

Now I am back home, relaxing and not doing much else. How about you?




He drinks ALL the milk and never replaces it!


crazy cloud formations!


15 Foolish Pride

I Love My Dog

Happy Interdependence Day. Got the Interdependence thing from Keith Strickland of the B-52’s. It seemed apt for July 4, 2012. And once again it is a scorcher. Quite hot out, but not much in the hummus department. And it feels like a holiday. Last night was calm and quiet, Bill came home from work early and stayed awake, enough to watch The News Room by Aaron Sorkin. Once again it was the second viewing for me and the first for Bill. He loves it, though I felt the second episode was not as compelling as the first episode. Still it is very good.

Bill went to bed around midnight and I stayed up for a bit after that. I was still involved with the Facebook thread but not as much as I was previously. Harpy even made an appearance, noting that there were over 400 comments on the thread at that point. Now it has 535 comments. I haven’t seen the latest comment so I might just make it 536. And I just did by adding Public Image Ltd after Maggie and Terre Roche. A perfect segue if you ask me. I did wake up this morning and added an extended version of Prince, The Future from the Batman record.

And I just added High Water (for Charley Patton) by Bob Dylan following a post of The Tide is High by Blondie. So inadvertently clever this group seems to be. Let’s hear it for cleverness! Things have been on a low flame today in a futile attempt to keep things cool. In the distance fireworks go off. I walked over to Lois & Fred’s apartment to feed their invisible cat. There were quite a few people out and about and almost all of them walking on the shady side of the street.

Texts went back and forth between Julio and myself trying to suss out what the other one was doing. Bill went to his cousin’s place in Stuyvesant Town to wish his aunt a happy birthday, a Yankee Doodle dandy at 95 years old. Julio was going to get some breakfast where I had just finished my own. I busied myself (if busy could actually be applied here) posting a number of 4th of July themed music. Some Aaron Copeland, some Bruce singing This Land Is Your Land, the Beatles with a video of Revolution that I had never seen before, among other videos.

Now Bill and I are just sitting around. He ate, I ate. John Addams is on HBO, marathon session. We enjoyed it when it was originally broadcast and it’s on today, mainly as background noise. We plan on going out to see the fireworks over the Hudson. It’s a big change from last year where I had a meltdown after working in the cigar shack, the possum in a suit & tie, me in guyabera and trousers and Jerry Vale somewhere in between. Not much going on there, and then having to deal with a lot of people going to Hoboken the same time I was trying to get home.

It was so bad I got off the bus eight blocks earlier just so I wouldn’t have to deal with people. Now I am ready to deal with people. No meltdown occurring. There are probably a lot of people coming to Hoboken for the display, up and down the waterfront on both sides of the Hudson River. The campus at Steven’s Tech is closed off to all except for students and staff. We will be on the street with the hoi polloi, looking skyward at explosions in the July 4th night.


02 Yo-Yo

I Love LA

Well it’s been a fun time the past 48 hours. Saturday night after posting I went out with Julio for some birthday drinks. I was watching Sullivan’s Travels on TCM when he called. Apparently he texted me while I was watching the movie and didn’t pay any attention. Then he called, feeling stood up. That was not my intention and I did want to go out for a drink with Julio. So after watching Sullivan’s Travels I got myself together and changed my undershirt for possibly the third or fourth time that day. Since Julio now lives uptown and not on the third floor of my building, a middle ground would have to be decided upon.

I headed out, the plan was to meet at 13th and Washington Street, closer to Julio’s place than to mine but I didn’t really mind. Neither one of us wanted to go to a pick up joint and I specifically said no to going to a bar with television sets everywhere. Julio agreed.

I walked up Washington Street, it was a beautiful evening, warm with a breeze and though a lot of Hoboken residents left town for the weekend (which felt like a holiday weekend), they were replaced by people going to restaurants as well as the twenty-somethings filling the bars.

I got to 13th and Washington and there was no Julio to be seen. At 14th and Washington there was someone who might have been Julio so I meandered up that way. Across the street by a firehouse, two fire engines were on the street returning from a call with their diesel engines making some noise. As I walked up to 14th, my phone rang. It was Bill calling from the road. He returned the young Turks to Hofstra University and was checked into an air conditioned motel room.

Bill was telling me about his adventures and I listened as he reminded me of a favor I was doing tomorrow. Bill wasn’t sure if he was driving the young Turks to Washington DC since there was a major power outage in that area. He might be driving them to Philadelphia instead.

I walked and talked to 14th Street and found the guy was not Julio. Standing on the corner, with traffic going by and being directed by a fireman near the two fire engines I asked Bill when he would know about going to Washington DC.

He didn’t hear me and I figured it was because of all the noise on my end (fire engines, cars going by) so I asked again, a little louder. Bill replied, ‘WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME? I AM WEARING A HEAD SET!’. I knew he had a head set but hell if I know when he is wearing it and when he is not. I do not take being yelled at that well and my good feeling did a 180 degree move. Bill was annoyed, I was pissed and up comes Julio. I reminded Bill about the favor I am doing for him on Sunday afternoon which calmed his ass down and he told me he would let me know.

I hung up the phone and wandered around 14th Street with Julio, me telling him about Bill and his headset and Julio telling me about how he gets routinely chewed out by his wife. Spouses- Who knew? We looked in a few bars around 14th street and I mentioned that Maxwells would be the spot since it doesn’t have television sets and it isn’t a pick up bar. He knew I was there the night before and that I would be going again on Sunday night with my brother Brian to see the Feelies. But I think Julio would be happy never to set foot in Maxwells again for some reason.

We opted for a wine bar, Bin 14. We found two seats at the bar and since Julio knows a bit more about wine, ordered a bottle of a Riesling. We sat, we sipped, and we talked. Some catching up, me telling him what happened with me and the cigar shack. We also discovered that wine doesn’t make you pee as much as beer does. Julio pointed out the option that we could have ordered beers but since we were in a wine bar- when in Rome…

It was a good wine, dry enough that the bartender made sure we had glasses of water with our wine. We polished off that bottle and I would have been fine with leaving right then and there but Julio ordered another bottle, a chilled Rioja. A much nicer wine and a bit less expensive.

More talking, a few laughs, and soon the bar was closing up. It was 1:00. Wine bars seem to close earlier than regular bars, at least in Hoboken. It was a more sedate and mature crowd, mature meaning the opposite of immature, not necessarily older.

We headed out, feeling nice, not overtly buzzed, not weaving on the sidewalk. I enjoyed a cigar as I walked Julio over to Willow Avenue. He’s going to meet up with Stine and Alexander on the 11th so we made tentative plans to have a drink before he flies to Denmark. In the back of my mind, Bill yelling at me on the phone lurked.

I came home, watched some TV and went to bed. Woke up on Sunday morning, went to the nearby supermarket. Julio texted me saying he felt OK but crappy, not great but functioning. His only plan was to watch the Euro Cup with his sister and her family.

At 10:30 AM I was back in my apartment making breakfast. Two bottles of wine and I felt OK. I had a hearty meal before heading out on Saturday night and I guess that Julio didn’t which is why he was feeling crappy. As the day progressed and as the temperature rose I too started feeling crappy.

I guess it was inevitable. I rarely drink these days and I guess Julio doesn’t either. But he has central air conditioning and I had my fans moving warm air around. I spoke briefly with Bill and he told me someone would be in his office to receive his clothes since he was going to Washington DC after all.

I really didn’t care. I was doing it because I said I was going to do it and I had his clothes all good to go. I just had to wait until 4:00PM since Bill mentioned that was what time the guy would be at the office. I napped and killed time. Oddly enough I was bummed out quite a bit since my bus pass expired on June 30 and now it was July 1. My reminder of daily commuting and having a job was now finished.

I checked the schedule to see when the bus would depart and timed it. It was still incredibly hot outside and where when I used to commute in the morning the sun would be in the east behind some buildings, now it was nearly 4:00 in the afternoon and there was no real cover to be had. Luckily I found a sliver of shade and a bus came mere moments after that.

As I rode the bus, Bill called seemingly happy to be wherever he was. I was feeling like crap. Hot, a bit hung over and reminded Bill that I do not like to talk on the phone while riding the bus. He understood and I told him I would call him after I dropped off his clothes.

After dropping off his clothes I was back on the street and called Bill. Voice mail. I walked to the Path train, and luckily there was a train about to depart. I sat in the air conditioned car which wasn’t that crowded and before I knew it I was back in Hoboken.

Back on the street, I called Bill. Voice mail again but I did not leave a message. I walked along the river promenade, which was a bit crowded with people trying to beat the heat. Feeling anti-social I kept to myself avoiding at least one person I saw up ahead. Soon I was safely home and took a nap.

My time in Manhattan was about 20 minutes from the bus terminal to Bill’s office to the Path train. The nap helped somewhat and after I woke up I texted my brother to move the time from 7:30 to meeting up at 8:00 at Maxwells. I felt better at 10:30 in the morning than I did at 5:30 in the afternoon.

Dinner was had and I also took a shower which helped me out quite a bit. I headed over to Maxwells with a stop at my friend Lois’ apartment. She and her husband Fred are heading out of town and I am feeding their cat so I needed to pick up the keys. Brian was at Maxwells before I was so I made there in time.

We walked in just as the Feelies were about to hit the stage. They were very good. I guess it had been a number of years since I had seen them last, perhaps when they opened up for Sonic Youth on the Fourth of July in Battery Park.

Great show, Brian enjoyed it a lot as did I. There were two sets and we were on the sidewalk in between sets talking to friends and also meeting friends that I only knew through Facebook and that was because they thought I was my brother Frank. The second Feelies set was even more high energy and ran longer than I thought, not that I was complaining since I had nowhere to go but Brian did have to work the next morning.

It was all over, I was able to give Stan an ashtray from the cigar shack as well as corresponding Avo cigar, as a way of saying thanks for putting me on the guest list with a plus one.

Brian gave me a ride home and we sat outside my building and talked for a while before he headed home. Once inside I let his wife know he was on his way. I slept alright after that, though I did have a few Stella Artois and needed to rehydrate a few times through the night, one time getting up to take off my wristwatch since it seemed so damn heavy as I slept. And that was basically that. It’s another hot day, and I have not gone outside at all. Stayed in, did some reading, watched some TV and napped often. It’s cheap and cool and it is still damn hot outside.

I’m sure a good part of my feeling ‘meh’ today is from the Stellas I had and also going out three nights in a row, two of those nights fueled with wine and beer. Not complaining, just paying the piper I suppose. Bill just came home and went to sleep saying he’ll be sleeping for a little while though I think he will be asleep for the rest of the night. I have no plans and I don’t want any plans.

Since the Fourth of July is Wednesday, right smack dab in the middle of the weeks, job postings online are thinner than usual. I guess things will fill out next week but it seems this week its slim pickings.



The Feelies


06 Let’s Go

I Fought In A War

Darlene Love is singing White Christmas from the Phil Spector Christmas Album. It’s a bit brisk outside. It is day two, eleven hour shift. It has been quite busy. The plan for Thomas to close the store tonight so that I might get a twenty minute head start and get to the bus so I could be home sooner has fallen by the wayside due to the inept schedule for the week.

Who knew it would be so busy, a fucking week before Christmas Eve? Zack had Thomas come in an hour earlier to help out since it was so fucking busy. So I will be closing tonight and opening tomorrow. It can be done but it will not be easy. I have to be up at 7:00 in the morning to catch the 8:00 bus since there is no 8:30 bus. And since I have to open the cigar shack I should be there by 9:00. At least I will have my egg sandwich before yet another eleven hour shift.

Word is out that Madonna is making a surprise appearance playing with the dreaded Wynton Marsalis Salad Bar Band tonight. Not my cuppa tea. It’s been very busy tonight and sales expectations were met and exceeded making Zack a very happy and giggly man. Forty minutes to go then the hustle.

Thomas is just about to head out and hopefully it won’t get too busy. Left alone to man the shack it won’t be easy, so people will just have to wait. And I just had two gentlemen in the store and they had me running back and forth like a chicken sans head. Twenty three minutes and Thomas is long gone.

Tomorrow will have a full staff minus Thomas and for myself I just have to make it through Monday before I get two days off in a row which is quite rare. This morning I was fortunate to see Bill for a few minutes before he passed out after driving to Atlantic City. He is doing that again tonight and I won’t be seeing my beloved until tomorrow night.

I just checked the numbers and they match up so that should be one less thing I have to worry about tonight. I will still worry about Bill though.

It’s funny, at least once a day someone will ask if we have Cuban cigars at the cigar shack and they are incredulous when I tell them they are illegal. Most people don’t know their history. Listening to Section 25 right now, no more holiday music. I’ve had my fill. Actually had my fill before Thanksgiving.

The rest is just a violation of the Geneva convention and that is another thing people don’t know about, what is the Geneva convention. Was John Kennedy Toole right? Is this really the way it is? Sixteen minutes to go and they won’t go fast enough, that’s for sure.

Killing time on the killing floor, that is what I am about.

Endless texting from Julio, trying to entice me into having a pint. I just got home and since I have to get up early, it ain’t happening but he will not take no for an answer. I still have to eat dinner and it’s 11:20. I suggested Tuesday or Wednesday, saying Tuesday would be better for me. After an hour of telling him that he finally tells me Tuesday is his job’s holiday party. His job, which wouldn’t hire me since I am not a woman. They’ve had such bad luck with women in the position, why not continue that direction?

He is also worried that I will be like his father, hooked on Xanax. Me, taking 0.05 once a week maybe, yeah I’m a regular William S. Burroughs. I love Julio and I appreciate his trying to get me out tonight as well as out of my own way, but not tonight. And now I feel guilty but I guess I am being responsible.

14 Ich Bin Von Kopf Bis Fuss Auf Lie

I Could Kick Your Ass

Something is happening but you don’t know what it is, do you Mr. Jones? Yes, Ballad of a Thin Man is playing at the cigar shack right now. It’s been a decent day, working alongside Thomas and Bradley. All of us in good moods so jokes and laughs were had throughout the day.

Not a bad day after all. Of course the tally could be better Sally, but it is a holiday weekend after all. Regulars have fled the city, people in Brooklyn have fled from the West Indian Day parade on Monday.

Tomorrow is Brazil day in midtown which is usually a fun thing to attend, but crazy crowded. So crowded that sometimes if you want to walk up Sixth Avenue, you have to walk up Fifth Avenue instead. I thought about it but then I thought again. Tomorrow is a day off so I have my doubts about attending. Perhaps if there was someone to go with, but with Bill driving tomorrow I think I will be staying on the western shores of the mighty Hudson River.

The day started out nicely, Bill was up and out hours before I stirred. I vaguely remember a kiss goodbye. Been having dreams that I actually remember lately, one dream involved my regret in not going to the bibliotheque with Roda, another dream had me in a cafeteria with my father and an old coworker from the Maxwells era, awkward introductions back and forth, considering one of those characters was dead.

Now it’s a little over a half an hour left. Thomas is closing so that means I get to go home a full 15 minutes earlier. Both he and I will be off tomorrow, due to return on Minday, Labor Day, working alongside Jerry Vale.

I am sick of tattoos. I know a few friends have them and have had them for years, but lately, it’s like an explosion, whole arms covered in ink by those who apparently did not consider what they will look like in 20 years.

Perhaps if I was in my twenties these days, and did not know any better I too would be inked way too much. When I was in my twenties I did not even consider the fact that I would be alive at 48 years, and here I am. Neck tattoos, I mean really. I just don’t get it. But that’s them and not me and not my concern, it’s just that I see so many of them it’s offputting. Live and let live I suppose.

I might take whatever train pulls into the station tonight. Lots of construction going on at the bus terminal on the way in, so the Path might be a viable option. I will throw the dice in the air and let the metro cards fall where they will.

It seems like a nice evening out anyhow, and a walk from the Path train to home should be nice, unless the other trains pull in first and if that’s the case well I will cross that bridge, or in this case- tunnel, when I get to it.

And the Path train turned out to be the way I got back to the mainland. A nice walk home, talking to Julio who invited me over next weekend when his in laws fly back to Europe. I mentioned that I never see them anymore and that is what prompted the invite.

I may just do that but of course I will have to reconnect next weekend. I will be working next Saturday and Sunday but since I get out early on Sunday that just might be the day. It would be nice to see Julio & Stine and of course, Alexander.

Fare thee well, Film Center Cafe










I Belong to Glasgow

Got to do what you can to stay alive. Though I would rather work in an office environment, I am working retail, doing what I can to make ends meet. It’s a Saturday night, I just got home from the cigar shack. The weather outside is wet and breezy.

Umbrellas are of no use since it’s a drizzly mist going on and the wind blows it whichever way it wants to go. It was relatively dry when I left the apartment this morning. I saw Bill for a few minutes before I left. He came home and went right to bed as I was getting ready to leave.

I made it to the bus stop and while enjoying a cigar I texted Julio to ask him if I could borrow some items on Monday, specifically a ladder and a drill. He called me back, asking why did I need the drill and would I need bits.

I explained what it was for and he’s such a handyman, he started talking me through the process on using anchors and specific bits. Always helpful, that Julio. We chatted a bit more and I got off the phone since I was getting on the bus, telling him that I would call him back in a minute.

I called Julio back once I got on the bus, and he had some pretty big news to tell me. He & Stine have closed on a property in Hoboken. They needed more space since Alexander is a growing boy and who knows, they might need even more in case they decide on having another kid.

They are debating whether to keep the apartment in my building. Julio doesn’t see the point, and Stine sees a place for friends and relatives from Denmark and elsewhere to stay when they visit.

It was interesting news indeed and while happy for them I am also sad to see them go, even though they aren’t going very far and I rarely see them much these days anyhow. The bus ride into the city was uneventful and I made it in early enough to walk to work.

It seems my knee has gotten a bit better and I did not wear the knee brace when walking up to the cigar shack. I did get an egg sandwich on my way which was quite nice. It was a nice enough morning as I listened to New Order.

I got to the cigar shack early enough and punched in about 20 minutes before I was scheduled to start. I immediately hit the ground running and after the first customers, Thomas came in and joined Bradley and myself.

Then we waited for customers most of the day. It was raining out so that meant I was staying indoors for lunch. I sat in the man cave and read Uncut magazine, all about the life of Steve Marriott of the Small Faces and then Humble Pie. Sad story.

After lunch things had slowed again with flurries of customers and tire kickers. Bradley left for the day leaving Thomas and myself to stand around and clean things up. It was that kind of day. There was some hubbub at the bus terminal when I was heading home. One of the ramps was closed so buses were queued up going in and going out.

A trip to the grocery store to get distilled water for Bill and then all of a sudden I was home again. And quite happy to be here. Tomorrow is Sunday and I am working but once again, I will not be writing unless there is something extraordinary to write about. Like driving a truck for US Beef or something.

Pinstripes and plaid! Deliberate!

Something going on

I Believe Fantasia

Monday May 30, 2011. A day off and quite a nice day off. It’s been very hot though, in the 90 degree range. I slept late, until 10:00AM. Bill was home already and he was getting ready to go to bed just as I was getting ready to start my day.

He was kind enough to pick up the paper as well as some bagels. That meant I didn’t have to leave the apartment until I wanted to. And I didn’t want to, at least not right away. Bill was a sleep and I was awake, having a lukewarm shower and making coffee. Not at the same time.

The reason for the lukewarm water was because I shut off the s for the gas on gas heater built into our stove. It’s old and I had to shut off the pilot which kept things in the kitchen very warm and with temperatures heading to triple digits I had to do something.

The thing is I turned off all the gas for the stove as well as the hot water heater. So the water stayed warm in the heater but once that was gone it was getting cooler and cooler. Manageable showers for the time being but not my preferred method of showering.

I tried relighting the pilot in the hot water heater several times last night, but to no avail. That meant if I couldn’t do it I would have to give Julio a call. He has the magic touch and would have it lit in no time at all. Me, it took a few hours before I gave up laying on the floor, one hand on the pilot thermostat and the other hitting the ignition repeatedly.

I tried again this morning before sending a text to Julio asking if he was home. About an hour later he called to tell me he just left. He asked what the problem was and I explained to me what it was.

He told me to do the same thing that I had done previously and after getting off the phone with him I tried it again and though I didn’t hear the ‘click click click’ of the ignition, I did hear that gas in the tank ignite. I turned on the hot water in the nearby sink and sure enough it was hot. Apparently just mentioning Julio coming over would be enough to get things to work again.

I wasn’t about to take another shower but was happy to have hot water again. I watched some TV, specifically a movie, Three O’Clock High a movie that Pedro turned me onto about 23 years ago. Silly little high school teen movie, still has its charm.

After that a walk around Hoboken, many people walking around on a gorgeous and hot afternoon. I enjoyed a La Flor Dominicana Air Bender Valiente and walked around the waterfront. I thought about bringing my guitar but decided against it.

I sat on a bench and looked at Manhattan glistening in the sun and read the rest of last week’s New Yorker. After a spell I finished my cigar and walked over to Washington Street, stopping by Ben & Jerry’s to treat myself to a Chocolate Therapy ice cream cone. Then I climbed up the 64 steps to my apartment where Bill was getting ready to head out and I was ready for a nap.

A lazy do nothing day, except for getting the hot water heater to work which was something. Perhaps tomorrow will be more of the same, but a gallery visit might be in order.









I Am a Cliché

Back in the shack full of cigars. Been another alright day. Working with the brain dead Bradley is getting easier and easier. Not that he is making an effort, on the contrary, he is getting easier to ignore.

I don’t think I had more than twenty words to say to him all day. And it gives me a nice enough distance to realize that the ‘man’ is a fucking idiot. I harbored suspicions previously but now it’s confirmed. And he’s a dirty little get over perhaps, or maybe it’s his idiocy.

This morning, as I slept, Bill was kissing my face over and over saying goodbye. I foolishly said to stop and let me go back to sleep, I mean, I still had two hours to sleep before I needed to get out of bed.

I regretted it later of course, like so many things that I do or say when it comes to Bill. But Bill knows that I am not a morning person and it’s a bit risky to tease this wolf before it’s had its coffee. I got up and did my thing, showered, cereal and of course coffee.

Reading emails and checking Facebook I was saddened to read that Poly Styrene from X Ray Spex died after a battle with cancer. Then later on I found out that Phoebe Snow died as well. Not a good day for singers with the initials of P.S. today. Patti Smith better beware.

Other than that the day was not at all impressive. Weather wise it was beautiful but here I was, inside, working with the brain dead Bradley. I was able to take a peek outside as well as seeing the red carpet laid out for Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential Doorknobs near the cigar shack.

The sky was blue, the temperature was close to, if not actually 80 degrees and the paparazzi was all lined up, waiting for those influential doorknobs.

The cigar shack’s cleaning woman just found a portfolio, containing legal documents that some customer left behind after they left the man cave. I looked into the portfolio to see if there was a recognizable name but there wasn’t. Some gruesome photographs though of what might have been a botched robbery attempt.

I saw Julio last night which was good. He’s off to Denmark on Friday. I got my new shoes from him after having them delivered this place of work. He and Stine may be moving soon, maybe staying in town.

It was a matter of time. They couldn’t keep the baby in a pen much longer, he will need room to grow and who knows if they have another baby on the way? It will be strange when they move out, but I already made my excuses not to help him move.

And Juan stopped by last night. Turned me onto yet some more good tunes which I will have to get somehow if someone will show me how to get torrents. It was good to see him again, he was up from South Jersey since his step grandfather died last week and it was wake last night, funeral this morning.

That’s it for now. Have to call Hyman when I get home and will have to see him tomorrow.

And I called Hyman, now that I am home. He is scheduled to have surgery on his foot or leg tomorrow and doesn’t want me to show up when he is in surgery. This is what he worries about the night before surgery.

And a touch of OCD visited upon me tonight. I always think that I didn’t lock the door when I leave the cigar shack and tonight it was the same thing. I almost got off the train to get on another train to go back to the shack to find out. But I always lock it and I always check.

I used to think the same thing about Farfetched. I would think I left a cigarette burning even though there was no smoking in the store. I tell you, if Bill had a car I would ask him to drive me to the cigar shack to check.






new shoes

I Ain’t Marching Anymore

Another rainy day, this time it is a Saturday. I slept really well last night. I took a fish oil pill/tablet early yesterday and then took another later in the day. My mood was elevated somewhat and I was feeling good.

Bill and I watched a talk show of sorts featuring Jerry Seinfeld, Ricky Gervais, Chris Rock and Louis CK. It was entertaining, and Bill certainly got a lot out of it. He went to bed soon after that and I stayed up.

The other night I stayed up and watched Frailty starring Bill Paxton, Matthew McConaughey and Powers Booth. I had seen it in the theater with Julio when it came out originally and I couldn’t take my eyes off it the other night. Definitely low key and engrossing.

Last night I don’t remember what I watched but wound up going to bed earlier than I usually do. I think the fish oil pills helped with my sleeping. When I woke up this morning it was all about rain. That made me want to sleep in some more but no, I had to get it together and get to work.

Bill was up and doing things on his computer. I shuffled about, making coffee, pouring cereal and stepping into the shower. Eventually Bill walked me to the bus stop where Hyman gave me a call.

Apparently he was getting into a cab and slipped and broke something. So instead of the cab driving him to the opera, it drove him to the emergency room. Bill was off today so he was going to visit Hyman in the hospital when he got a chance.

I was headed to work and killed as much time outside before heading in. Unfortunately the rain made me want to head in. Calvin was in the shop, Thomas was en route.

It’s been a slow day. I treated myself to a nice lunch at the Moon Rock diner and wandered around outside for the rest of my lunch hour since it had stopped raining. Still overcast and battleship grey skies, but no rain.

Just killing time now. It’s been an OK day so far and now it’s night time which for some is the right time, but for me it’s the time to go home. I was supposed to hang out with Julio last night but I postponed it to tonight and still despite my fondness for Julio I would rather just go home and not do anything at all.

Still if he calls I will show up. What’s a couple of beers between two old friends? Plus today is Alexander’s birthday, three years old! So maybe he would like to talk about that. I’d be cool about that.

Now Thomas and I are discussing the usage of the word ‘queer’. He uses it for describing things that he finds strange. I don’t. I hear it and think ‘derogatory word’. He said if he uses it and I’m offended, he won’t use it anymore. That’s nice to know.

No call from Julio and I am home now. Bill is coming home from visiting Hyman in the hospital, which is what I will be doing tomorrow. I am certainly quite happy, almost over the moon to have a paid holiday tomorrow.

Some good news from Harpy which was nice to hear, but it is still not my story and I won’t be intrusive but science does work, sometimes. Now I am waiting for Bill to come home from the supermarket.

And it is Sunday tomorrow, so no writing for me, unless of course there is something to write about.

a note in the hallway


a note in the vestibule





I Learned the Hard Way

Well well well. Where to begin? I’ll start at the end. As I was walking from the cigar shop to the bus terminal, listening to Pet Shop Boys singles collection, by cellphone rings. It’s Bill. My first thought was that Bill was nearby and saw me stomping down the avenue.

No, it wasn’t anything pleasant like that. Bill told me, he was washing his hands in the bathroom and heard some water running behind him and walked into the kitchen to find water spewing forth from the hot water heater that was installed 2 years ago.

Peter our absentee landlord decided to save money and bought a General Electric hot water heater from Home Depot. I told Bill to turn off the spigot (tighty righty, lefty Lucy) and then I called Julio. A hint of panic in my face as I asked him to do me a favor, to go up to our apartment and check to see if Bill was able to turn off the water.

He moaned but did come upstairs. I then called Peter and let him know what was going on. He was on the line with Bill and got off the phone with me as soon as he could. I trudged to the gate and chatted with Hyman Gross.

He asked how I was doing, what kind of day did I have. I told him I was glad the work was done and also told him about what happened with the hot water heater. He assumed the hot water heater was in the basement like other places have. Not us. Our hot water heater is between the stove and the kitchen sink.

He asked how big the hot water heater was and I told him it was as big as he was, which made him remark that it was probably shrinking like he is. Hyman is in his 80’s in case you didn’t know. His remark made me laugh somewhat.

But as the minutes moved on I realized how much of a hassle this was going to be. I have a job interview tomorrow morning, with a recruiter. It’s for a Monday through Friday job and that’s what I was looking for.

The hours are unlike any hours I’ve worked before. 5:30PM to 1:00AM. It’s a law firm and my job would be to make sure all the lawyers and others will get their town cars home. It’s also supposed to be an immediate hire.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I came home and trudged up the four flights to the fifth floor where U heard voices. I was hoping it would be Peter but he’s an absentee landlord after all. It was Bill and Julio in the kitchen.

The blue bucket underneath the spigot collecting a steady stream of water, wads of paper towels on the floor, some puddles as well. Julio took off a pipe from the water heater since it was difficult to use the bucket with the pipe there, and with the hot water heater now defunct, the pipe in question was redundant.

Julio stayed for a little while as I threw out the paper towels and laid down newspapers, remembering the method used when the cellar in our house in Lodi would sometimes flood. Super absorbent and cheaper than paper towels.

Also threw down some rags to sop up the water. Julio split and went back to his life, Bill and I discussed Bill taking off tomorrow for the installation of a new water heater. Peter’s flunky Robert is supposed to get one and deliver and install it.

Robert is an idiot and I don’t trust him so I will have to tell Bill to keep an eye on everything Robert does. So that is where I’m at right now. Very tired too.

(I’m) Stranded

Late news breaking, late news breaking. Not really news, just the usual blah blah blah from me. Just got back from a late snack with Julio. He with his hummus and pita and me with a burger. And some Stella Artois to accompany the meals.

A good time, a nice talk. He’s still a good guy and a good friend.

It was quite a hot day today, 90 degree range, closer to 100 degrees than I would have hoped. Quite humid out, so much so that by the time I got to the office I was drenched with sweat.

I don’t take the subway on weekends since the service really falls off on Saturday and Sunday. I did stop by the Farmer’s Market and picked up some cookies for the co-workers again. Just a little something nice, something sweet to glue the team together.

No Richard III auditions today. But there was a different type of royalty that visited the cigar shop this afternoon. Specifically the Prince of Morocco. Really.

There were a number of Middle Eastern guys standing outside the shop for an hour or so this afternoon, no one paying them much mind. Then a few of them came in and checked things out, followed by a handsome man in an emerald green polo shirt.

He checked out a few cigar punches and almost didn’t buy them until I demonstrated how they are used best with a large ring gauge cigar, which just so happens to be the ring gauge I prefer. He bought 2 cigar punches.

Then he asked to see some lighters and I showed them to him. He picked out 5 different lights and then left, leaving someone else to pay the $1500.00 bill.

It was my sale and I couldn’t have completed it without the help of Raymond, Don Birch and Sean, so I treated them to some milk chocolate covered pretzels from Godiva. They were surprised by my gratitude, so unaccustomed to behavior like this.

Luckily for me the pretzels were on sale, 3 boxes for $10.00.

It was the highlight of my day. The Prince also stopped by the leather goods shop next door where he dropped $20,000. It was more low key after the visit from Moroccan royalty. The 4 of us just passing the time, Don Birch waiting until he can leave at 7:30.

Sean, Raymond and I hung I there until 9:00. Sean and Raymond split after that, I stayed behind to close up the shop as that is my duty.

I hustled down to the bus terminal in 15.9 minutes, from Something About England to The Crooked Beat from the Clash’s Sandinista.

It being the weekend people in the terminal didn’t know of escalator protocol, instead of staying to the right if you’re not climbing the stairs on the escalator. I opted to climb the stairs next to the escalator, taking 2 at a time to make my bus.

I was doing well, listening to the Clash until I got to the top step where I tripped and landed on my hands and knees. It must have made for a sight for the escalator clots.

I gathered whatever it was that I dropped and quickened my pace to my gate where I found the bus had departed. In front of me was an Asian dude who started talking to me about how hot it was. As It got more crowded and I inched toward him I could smell the booze coming out of his pores.

I was glad to make it to Hoboken and glad to have a late meal with Julio who couldn’t stop laughing when I told him of my fall at the top of the stairs. I knew he would get a giggle out of it.

Still quite hot and Bill’s in Atlantic City.

I’m Bad

It’s July 3rd. It’s a Saturday. I have to work. Or rather, had to work. I didn’t mind. The day started off with the Supremes singing Love Child. Actually there were a few other songs that played before I hit the snooze button, but Love Child was the one that registered.

I set about starting my day. Julio called offering to buy bagels but I had to turn him down since I wouldn’t have any time to eat them. I did have time to check emails and such while the morning news played on behind me.

As I checked the email, I heard a report of an accident in New York Harbor by the Statue of Liberty. What may have happened was that two boats were near the statue, perhaps anchored when a larger boat cruised past creating a large wake causing the larger of the two boats to rise out of the water and land on the smaller boat.

There were three people in the smaller boat when the larger boat landed atop of it, killing one of the three. The other two were rushed to the hospital. The driver of the larger boat was charged with boating under the influence and vehicular homicide.

I knew the driver of the larger boat. The company he works for sublet office space from Bio-IB in the last year I was working there. He was a nice guy, one of the few in the group of Israeli conservatives. It’s a shame all around.

It was a shock to hear the name of someone you know on the news. I expect more will be said later on the 11:00 News.

After all that I was waiting for the bus where Rand stopped by for a few minutes, telling tales of his fun times at Maxwells the past few nights. Unfortunately the bus was fast approaching and I had to get on it to get to work on time.

Still reading You Never Give Me Your Money by Peter Doggett. Such nastiness between John, Paul, George & Ringo. Mainly John, George & Ringo with Allen Klein against Paul. Bitchiness, drugs, booze and Hare Krishna. A gripping read.

Got to the shop on time, hardly anyone in midtown Manhattan except for tourists. It was a slow day and there was only one register functioning since the other register was fucked up last night, and not because it was short.

It was slow enough that one register was all that was needed anyhow. Some of the usual customers who hadn’t fled the city came in, including one opera singer who dislikes me.

Calvin & I discussed this and figured out that it was probably because the opera singer, let’s call him Pagliacci, is deeply closeted and I am not. Calvin remembered that when Pagliacci and I first met, he wasn’t the usual jovial self he seems to be with everyone else.

In fact he quickly withdrew his hand after a brief handshake, whereas with everyone else he’s glad handing Andy. No skin off my back, I couldn’t care any less.

Came home by 10:00, from the cigar shop to the bus terminal in 15.4 minutes, courtesy of the Raybeats.

Bill is on his way home. There was an accident, some woman sideswiped his bus. No injuries, no passengers on the bus. He’s not too happy, and that’s understandable.

Foggy Notion

Well it was just one of those things, just one of those crazy things. But of course I must get through last night first. And what was last night all about? Not much really. Watched TV. Didn’t watch Rachel Maddow again.

Watched Lawrence O’Donnell filling in for Keith Olbermann and contrary to what some T shirt designers think, I don’t get my info from MSNBC exclusively, like they get their information from Fuck Snooze.

I watched the Watchmen DVD on loan from that fantastic socialist institution, the public library where one can pick up Mein Kampf or the modern day adaptation, Going Rogue by today’s distaff Yakov Smirnoff.

Bill came home and went to bed almost immediately. He’s up so early and off to work, then after to work he runs up to Harlem to stage manage a play then back here where he has me waiting for him. He does have the sleep apnea thing happening still but now has a mouth guard of sorts.

At first it worked well but the past 2 night’s he’s been snoring. I nudged the nudge last night, telling him he was snoring and he awoke and said, ‘I am?’ before falling asleep again. When he was kissing me goodbye this morning I mentioned that he was snoring again.

He felt like I was attacking him, and his response was, ‘Are you sure it wasn’t you? You snore too you know.’ I responded that I was sure it wasn’t me since I was awake when I noticed. He left, I went back to the usual as of late, uneasy sleep.

Lot’s of fighting in my dreams. Not very relaxing. Woke up and did my thing. Checked the email, a comment waiting for my approval. It wasn’t signed by Maurice from lamoes.com, or the Susquehanna Investment Group.

Nae, this was by Sally Mae. Same sentiment though. Some Beckian acolyte complaining that I get all my info from Rachel Maddow, and my ‘rant’ about Senator Bunning of Kentucky, blocking the extension of unemployment benefits was basically unfounded.

I’m sure Sally Mo likes the attention I’ve afforded her/him/it and I was feeling generous, enough so that I decided to help her/him/it with their t shirt/coffee cup/greeting card shingle on Cafe Press. I mean should she/he/it lose their job at Susquehanna Investment Group she/he/it will always have her/his/whatever rag trade to fall back on.

It’s no Sham Wow I’m sure but hey, charity is charity and some dogs should be thrown a bone every now and then. I’m not bitter and I’m not twisted and I certainly don’t drink the Kool Aid Tea that she/he/it seems to partake in. It’s all there under the other day’s Astronomy Domine entry.

See for yourself, you be the judge, Sally Mo will be the jury (and we know how that will end up). Other than stepping into the gutter to comment on her/his/it’s comments, it was a good day. Went to the Socialist building, you know, the library where I ran into Eileen Lynch.

You don’t see someone for years then all of a sudden you keep running into them. We had a nice talk for a while out on the sidewalk.

Then a phone call from Julio. He was on Washington Street inviting me to lunch. How could I refuse? Had a good time with him.

Been a while since we actually had a meal together. Lot’s of things talked about. Alexander is getting better, which is definitely good. Julio’s mom is getting better too. Julio & Stine are looking for a house to buy.

Somewhere close to Hoboken since Hoboken is out of their price range. I would suggest Bala Cyanide but well, you know, there seems to be something in the water out there.

Cloud

Beast of Burden

On Facebook there is a theme, put up a photo of a celebrity that you look like as your profile picture. I can’t do that there, but here I can do it. I’ve heard that I look like Philip Seymour Hoffman & Drew Carey.

At the play reading I had participated in the other day one of the audience members said I looked like Jim Carrey, then he corrected himself and said Drew Carey.

Drew Carey

Drew Carey

I’ve found in these two specific instances that it can be broken down into two groups. Black people think I look like Drew Carey and white people think I look like Philip Seymour Hoffman. I myself tend to think if I’m to look like either one of these guys I would prefer Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Philip Seymour Hoffman

Philip Seymour Hoffman

I do feel slightly insulted when I hear Drew Carey.

One time, years ago I found myself in a gay bar on the upper east side on 58th street called Oscar Wilde. It was the only gay bar that I knew of that served Guinness at $4.00 a pint. One night I’m just hanging out after work and next to me at the bar is a very drunk patron who claimed to be Carlo Gambino’s son.

Carlo Gambino

Carlo Gambino

I just nodded slowly as he slurred his words. On the TV at the end of the bar was an episode of the Drew Carey show. The younger Gambino turns to me, then to the TV, then back to me and says, ‘You know who you look like?’

I knew exactly what he meant even though that, I believe was the first time I ever heard the comparison. I guess the reason I would prefer to be compared to Philip Seymour Hoffman is that I prefer his work to Drew Carey’s.

The other day after hearing about J.D. Salinger’s death, I read a few obituaries bout him. One of them mentioned a fellow college student of Salinger’s recollection of Salinger walking around the college campus wearing a black chesterfield and walking with a cane saying he was going to make literary history.

JD Salinger

JD Salinger

A  burgandy Chesterfield

A burgandy Chesterfield

Me, not Drew Carey nor Philip Seymour Hoffman wearing a Chesterfield, not a couch

Me, not Drew Carey nor Philip Seymour Hoffman wearing a Chesterfield, not a couch

And I suppose he did. I never read The Catcher in the Rye. Most people have to read it in high school but I didn’t. I don’t think it’s because I went to a catholic school since I think other classes did read it. Not sure if I missed anything.

Salinger doesn’t really come up in conversation these days anyhow. Well actually because he recently died he comes up in conversation but other than that, not really.

It’s been a cold day today. Only went outside once or twice. And that was more than enough. Too bitter outside. Bill is driving to Atlantic City tonight once again. I’m content to stay home.

I figured out why my feet are so cold in the apartment. Cold ceramic tile above an vacant, unheated apartment. Well that is what Julio mentioned the other day.

I just had a nice spaghetti dinner with some home made sauce that Stine made. Quite nice and perfect for a cold night such as this.

Beast of Burden, a reading.

Blue Moon

Let’s get it over with shall we? Goodbye 2009. Crap year for me and a lot of other people. New calendars are in order. I was going to head into the city and go to a Barnes & Noble to see what calendars I can get there.

Also to exchange the John Lennon biography that Julio got me. I read it already and changed my mind about keeping it. I can get a calendar and probably a different book.

I started out stopping by the library to drop off the DVD of The Apartment, the Billy Wilder movie. I had never seen it before and neither did Bill. Very good movie, Jack Lemmon was perfect, Shirley MacLaine was pretty and Fred MacMurray was a real dick. Just a pretty good movie to watch at the end of the year.

I headed towards Washington Street intending to walk to the Path train or catch a bubs into Manhattan and by the time I made it up to the boulevard I changed my mind. I just walked around a bit and came back to the apartment building and shoveled the sidewalk in front.

No one else had and it didn’t seem likely that anyone would. I didn’t mind and it was just pushing the snow into the gutter. I was finished with that in about 10 minutes and climbed up the four flights to my apartment.

Bill was at work and I was going to take a nap but started watching videos on YouTube, then Juan called. He’s in California having a good time. Bill came home as I was listening to Tomorrow Never Knows on YouTube, quite loudly. I didn’t hear the door open and I was startled.

Also spoke with Ulysses who had called to wish me a Happy New Year. He wasn’t doing anything, just spending the night with his mother like he’s been doing the past few years.

So the plan for Bill and myself, after he wakes up from his nap, is to go to our annual steak dinner at Arthur’s restaurant in Hoboken. We’ve been doing it for a number of years, then we smoke cigars and stroll around Hoboken, come home and rest and then go to Rand and Lisa’s for cocktails.

It’s usually a low key night which is how we like it. No complaints on this end.

Just finished watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High on cable. Seen it a few times before, now it’s a look back on the early 1980’s. Back then I didn’t know what to make of it. More of a Southern California scene than a North Jersey scene. Still can’t relate to it and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to.

I think Dark Was the Night was the best CD release this year. Best reissues were the Beatles remasters. Best compilation was Bob Dylan: The Bootleg Series Vol. 8. (which may have come out in 2008 but I got it in 2009 so fuck off) I guess the best movie was Avatar. Best concert, Paul McCartney at CitiField of course. That was an easy end of year list.

Hope you all have a Happy New Year. All the best wishes for 2010. It has to be a better year. It just has to!

dark-was-the-night

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Best DVD watched in the past 24 hours!

Best DVD watched in the past 24 hours!

Blue moon New Years Eve which I will take as a good omen.

Perhaps the best song of the last decade:

Don’t Believe the Hype

Well right now it’s 25 degrees and it’s supposed to be a major snowstorm, but I can still see Penn Plaza, I can still see Jersey City and Marineview Plaza in Hoboken. The streets are wet but it’s not really sticking.

The local news channels are on full alert, alarming people but so far there’s really no need. My brother Brian texted me and said that the supermarket up by his neck of the woods was a madhouse. Here in Hoboken it’s windy and cold but really nothing to be worried about.

I say that of course since I don’t drive. Walking proved to be no problem, and I even strolled to the end of Pier A in Hoboken and took a snapshot or two just to show that it isn’t so bad.

Julio is flying to Denmark tonight and that hasn’t been much of a delay. He did call to tell me Helena Christiansen was on his flight. We’ve seen her around the village, having dinner a few tables away from us at Benny’s Burritos on Greenwich years ago.

So they are saying the 15 inches are expected but so far less than an inch has fallen in Hoboken. Bill is in the city doing some theater stuff. Last night we watched 2 hours of Chris Noth in Lawn Hors d’œuvre on the Sleuth channel.

Bill definitely enjoyed it. I remembered who the bad guys were or bad chicks actually. Bill didn’t despite his claims to have the memory of an elephant. I told him he must have been right next to me when we first watched the show, since I don’t watch it on my own.

More weather hype with the Winter Alert in effect until 11:00 tomorrow morning. Bah!

The other night I had a dream where I had to drive around the Garden State Plaza in a car with Alexander Lopez as my passenger, not in a baby seat. The objective was to get him to 13 Riverview Avenue which I did, safely.

Last night’s cannabis free dream, I was in the Riverview Avenue neighborhood, this time as a passenger. The driver was President Gerald Ford. Nice guy. I told him I saw him speak in 1976 at the Garden State Plaza and almost shook his hand.

That was true. I was on the line outside of Gimbels after he spoke outdoors at the Plaza but the Secret Service caught off the handshaking a few people before me. He dropped me off across the street where I grew up and I walked into a house devoid of people.

I woke up at 7:30 and almost woke Bill up as well, thinking that he was late for work. Oh, I’m in the unemployment zone where the days blur into one another. Then I went back to sleep.

From that dream of Lodi, I wound up in Chelsea where I then had an argument with Bill. I wrote these down when I woke up. The last notes I wrote with regards to dreams were about me being in the Office and talking to Jim Halpert about coffee.

It didn’t go well and I felt slighted when awards were being given out. So I split that scene and wandered to a bar located in a empty lot at 16th Street between Park and Willow Avenues in Hoboken. Lot’s of commuters getting off their buses and passing through and sometimes sitting on rusty lawn furniture from the 1950’s. And it wasn’t that good a bar since there was no booze.

Oh these dreams go on when I close my eyes. Every moment I’m awake, I live another life.

Looking north, up Park Avenue, 3PM

Looking north, up Park Avenue, 3PM

12.17.09 Hoboken Daily News 002

12.17.09 Hoboken Daily News 005

Looking souht on Park Avenue

Looking south on Park Avenue

Not so bad, is it?

Not so bad, is it?

On NBC News, some guy with a tan is pushing the snow hype, live from Times Square.

Dracula’s Lament

Well I was all set to start writing about a half hour ago but I started playing So It Goes by Nick Lowe on guitar, then wound up playing Stereotypes by the Specials and then I went into Give A Little Bit by Supertramp and then finally found myself playing The True Wheel by Brian Eno and I was in heaven.

So many changes but so much fun to play. A welcome distraction. My callouses are coming along quite nicely and my index finger on the left hand isn’t as cramped as it had been. I haven’t been playing as much as I would have liked to but apparently not playing had served me well.

This evening from Bill: You know baby, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Me: Aw I agree baby, I feel the same way. I AM the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

Last night I went down to Julio’s apartment and hung out. Like old times, we had a bottle of wine and talked. Stine and Alexander are in Denmark and Julio is flying out there on Saturday, not coming back until next year. And by next year, I mean in a couple of weeks.

It was good last night, we talked about McSwells and how he doesn’t ever want to go there again. Not even for a drink, but of course I am always game to hoist a pint or two with Rand.

We also talked about seeing Macca at both Madison Square Garden and CitiField. He felt the Garden was more intimate but the sound and sightlines at CitiField were much better.

Julio also had 2 Christmas presents for me, which was an awfully nice surprise.

One was a biography on Paul McCartney that just came out. I had read the reviews and they were quite good. It’s by Peter Ames Carlin and not a puff piece. I don’t think I’ve ever read a McCartney bio, except for the authorized one by Barry Miles, Many Years from Now.

That was good, but Paul was directly involved in it. The one that Julio gave me last night mentions how Paul has been rewriting the past to suit his needs, like saying that he basically wrote In My Life. Julio hoped I didn’t have it and I didn’t.

He also hoped I didn’t have the other book, John Lennon : The Life by Phillip Norman. I didn’t have that either but I did take it out of the library earlier this year and read it. Julio was dismayed by that but also to be on the safe side, gave me gift receipts for both books.

I did take a walk to Barnes and Noble in Hoboken this afternoon looking to exchange the Lennon book, but they had a meager selection. I could go to another Barnes and Noble in the city and exchange it there, but it’s such a lovely picture of John on the cover and not wanting to disappoint Julio, I think I will end up keeping it.

But I may go into the city and just take a look see. There is that Beatles book scheduled to be released in June 2010, You Never Give Me Your Money but I don’t think I can or should wait that long.

I came upstairs and stayed up to watch Craig Ferguson’s 1000th broadcast. I’m really enjoying his show and last night was very funny. No Craig Ferguson, he had puppets instead, interviewing the guests and also had Jason Segal and Nathan Danforth with The Broken West featuring Ferguson’s Dracula puppet singing Dracula’s Lament from Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

So sweet that I posted it on Facebook. Just something really nice and Jason Segal is cute too. And now I am posting it here too…

Bony Moronie

Wow it’s chilly out today. Been in the 30’s most of the day. No way was I going out to play guitar. No way, uh uh, not me. Julio came up last night after seeing Stine and Alexander to the airport. They were en route to Copenhagen where they eventually arrived safely.

Julio was of course feeling lonely, no little guy excited to see him and I’m not the guy excited to see him anymore either. Sure it’s good to see him but it’s not like how it used to be. I told him he was welcome to come up to watch a movie on the provision that he does not criticize the shape of the apartment.

Apparently he has a problem with rectangular apartments, the rail road style even though he lives in almost the same type of apartment. I asked if he had seen Snatch, to which he asked if that was the one with Brad Pitt, where you can’t understand a word he says. It was and he didn’t want to see that again.

He’s always had a problem with seeing a movie more than once, so that meant the Dark Knight was also out of the picture. We agreed on The Lives of Others which takes place in East Berlin in 1984. I had taken it from the library a few weeks ago but wasn’t in the mood for a subtitled movie after all and returned it unwatched.

I have to say it was totally engrossing and an interesting view on East German lives while the wall was up. Bill came home midway through and it was too late for him to get into, plus he was driving a bus to Atlantic City today and had to plan his routes, so he set himself up in the kitchen while Julio and I sat in the darkened media room/living room- room where the couch and the TV are and were both taken by the film.

The film was really quite good and I can’t recommend it enough. Julio also brought up the rest of the Galician wine we had the night before in his apartment and we polished it off. When the movie was over, Julio went home and fell asleep, Bill moved into the now lit media room and continued plotting his course.

Soon he too went to bed, and I went out after not really watching Saturday Night Live to get some money to lend to Bill since he’s broke at the moment. I also chatted on Facebook with a grammar school classmate, Donna who asked if I knew if another classmate had died. Jimmy Murray did overdose a few years ago, from what my brother Brian told me. On August 21, 2011 I heard from another classmate from St. Francis de Sales that Jimmy Murray is still alive.

Brian worked with Jimmy on a job a number of years ago. Jimmy grew up faster than I did, was groping girl’s breasts in 6th grade and probably smoking weed around the same time. After 6th grade he left parochial school and went to public school which was the last I heard of him.

Donna also mentioned another classmate, Steven Bronder also passed away, likely from an overdose as well. When I went to my high school reunion for the first and only time, I ran into another former grammar school classmate Jimmy Bartoli who told me that Steven was a crackhead who was busted for lurking about the elevators in an apartment building across the street from the Lincoln School on Main Street in Lodi.

Donna made overtures about an informal reunion of my grammar school classmates after the holidays which made me think that informal meant that black tie was not required. I told her that it would be in the timing since I was presently unemployed. She remarked her boyfriend was also out of a job.

I also told Donna that I don’t drive, not because of a DUI or DWI or anything like that, just that I got burnt out on driving and after having not driven for over 20 years now, I certainly have no desire to do so again. Having been a pedestrian all these years I see how horrible drivers are these day and plus, I wasn’t that good a driver to begin with.

Donna’s still in Lodi, raising her 2 boys, one is looking at college now. She asked how long Bill and I have been together and yes, it’s been 9 years. She was impressed by that and happy that I was happy. She was OK with my being gay since her older brother was gay as well. I sort of figured that out in 1976 since all her older brother listened to was the soundtrack to A Chorus Line nonstop.

It was a fun chat and it lasted longer than I anticipated. At 1:00 I told her I needed to get ready for bed and thanked her for the chat. It should be nice to see her again. I haven’t seen her or most of our classmates for over 30 years. Maybe that was enough, maybe not. It remains to be seen.

I did have a nice walk around Hoboken today, running from health food store to health food store, pricing Stevia. Decided to forgo the Hoboken Farmboy since they were about $4.00 more. Stopped by the Guitar Boy where Jim Mastro was busy. Just saying hi and took his picture.

Tim, the teenage ace guitarist popped in. His banjo needed new strings. I asked him how many instruments did he play and he wasn’t sure so he rattled off guitar, bass, mandolin, banjo and maybe one or tow others which my older graying mind forgot.

I told him he was an inspiration and I think that made him uncomfortable. I did see him and Lily Mastro playing on video at St Peter’s Prep school and I told him how good it was. Then after wishing him a Merry Christmas I was out of there, to smoke a cigar and wander around Hoboken on my own for a little while.

When I got home, I picked out my suit and polished my shoes for an interview tomorrow morning. It was a decent day today and I hope yours was as well.

What is it?

What is it?

Mister Wonderful Jim Mastro

Mister Wonderful Jim Mastro

from Times Sq 12.2.09- courtesy of Joe Jervis/Joe.My.God.

from Times Sq 12.2.09- courtesy of Joe Jervis/Joe.My.God.

Turn the Heater On

It’s a Tuesday. Not necessarily a sunny day but it was OK enough to get me out of the apartment after job searching for a good part of the day. Last night’s cannabis free dreams involved being in a taxi on Eighth Avenue with a former co-worker who was a composite of a few different co-workers.

In the dream I started out wandering lost in the Port Authority bus terminal. Larger and more sprawling than it actually is. Caught a cab with the co-worker, and as we sat in traffic the cab driver decided to take a short cut which was basically a parking lot with only one way to get in and out. Bumper to bumper traffic.

The co-worker left when we got back into the traffic and I eventually woke up. Made some coffee, had breakfast and showered. Yes, all blah blah blah. Living on the 5th floor of a building means that it’s generally cooler five stories up than it is on the street.

I usually turn on the heater built into the stove for a little while to warm things up but found that when I went to turn on the heater, there was no heat. I checked and the pilot was out. SO I lay on the floor trying to turn it on to no avail.

I texted Julio to see if he could help me with it, but they have a similar problem with the heater in the bedroom and even a handyman like Julio couldn’t fix it so they’ve been using a space heater. He suggested calling PSE&G for an appointment so they’re scheduled to come here tomorrow between 8AM and 12PM.

And since the stove which is pretty old is not under warranty it could cost us some money for the visit. The stove works, but not the heater. I called Bill and left a voice mail for him.

I’ve been doing good. Avoiding most TV news. No more MSNBC on during the day. Instead I watched the Gilmore Girls and wanted to move to Stars Hollow. I watched a repeat of the Daily Show from last week and then headed out.

Wandered around Hoboken, making my way up to 14th Street and then over to the river. Bill called back a few hours after I called and he was his usual ebullient self. He asked what I was up to and I told him I was walking around Hoboken, glad to get out of the apartment.

I also remarked that I was glad to be away from people and he laughed at how I was alone in the apartment and now alone outside. I told him that there was no one around where I was walking, that that was what I meant.

He asked how I was feeling and I told him I was reluctant to tell him about being a little depressed. He didn’t mind hearing it, saying that I would be there for him if the situation was different. And it’s true, I would be and I have been.

But this has been going on more and more lately, hence my reluctance to say anything. Then Bill had another call and said he’d call me back. That was about 6 hours ago, not that I’m counting. He’s at work and doesn’t need to hear the crap I’m going through.

Walked towards the train station, circled around Pier A. In the distance I saw Tariq, packing up his guitar and heading away from me. I could have yelled out to him but decided not to.

I made my way home, and called my brother Frank. It’s been hit or miss with him lately and decided not to let him interrupt. Told him about the guitar playing and the keyboard playing the other day and even how I’ve been a little bit depressed lately.

He suggested playing the guitar some more and once I got off the phone with him that is exactly what I did. And he was right. It took my mind off my problems and gave me a feeling that I was accomplishing something.

I’m trying to build up a repertoire for when I actually try my hand at busking and for the past couple of hours I’ve been playing Paul Simon songs courtesy of the Ultimate Guitar website.

One song in particular stands out and it’s a from a video by Gary Weis from the early days of Saturday Night Live, just footage of people coming home for the holidays at various terminals and meeting their loved ones.

I always think of Gary Weis’ video when I hear Homeward Bound, and just sent him an email telling him so. Another person sent an email to him saying basically the same thing. A short 3 minute video that resonated so deeply 30 years ago, still resides in my mind and my heart.