Tag Archives: More than a Few Exciting Moments with Frank O’Toole

I Never Knew You

It’s been a very rainy Friday. As I lay in bed this morning I thought, ‘now this is the day to stay in bed.’ Of course only a little while after that I got out of bed and started my day. There were plenty of mundane tasks to do, ennui waits. I wasn’t planning on doing much of anything today, it was raining quite hard and here on the sixth floor the wind was howling. A day not fit for man nor beast and here I was deciding which of those I was. I opted for being a man and duly stepped into the shower.

I got a few things off my chest with regards to this here blog. It’s noticeable if you know where to look. I mean, look beyond the obvious. Last night as I was going off to the arms of Morpheus, I came up with some lines for a song. I didn’t get out of bed and write them down, nor did I write them in the notebook I kept by the bed. The pen is there but the notebook is missing, or at least it was last night in the darkness. No, I went to sleep hoping to remember the line.

To my surprise I was able to remember the line so that worked out fine. It’s a good line, not to be revealed here, since I am trying to write a song. I was hoping to write a song for the benefit at Maxwells on the October 25, but it’s not as easy as I had hoped. I have songs in my head all the time and figured it would be easy, using the basic verse/chorus/verse, eschewing the middle eight. There’s still time anyhow. A few covers and an original might just be a few covers and nothing else.

Tomorrow there is an open mike in Church Square Park, sponsored by the Bibliothèque and I might just jump in for the sake of getting my chops. If I do that, I would be following a Flamenco act and possibly a rapper who raps in American Sign Language. And that would be after doing some volunteer work at the bibliothèque. Apparently they were all quite happy with me being there last Saturday so helping out again this Saturday would probably be helpful, but then again, no two days are the same. One day is busy, another day perhaps not so much.

Bill is driving to Atlantic City tonight and doing it again tomorrow night. So things will be quiet and quite dull here. Things just aren’t as entertaining and funny when Bill isn’t around. And once again I got all misty just thinking about him this afternoon. It could have been the rain though, but the rain doesn’t necessarily leave one with a warm heart does it?

Today is my brother Frank’s birthday. 11 years between us. He’s a good guy, but we’re so much alike sometimes that we can’t avoid butting heads. The first five minutes of seeing each other can be very combustible. There is a gathering planned on Sunday afternoon and Bill and I said we would attend. It’s in Saddle Brook, not too far away. It would be good to see family once again before we separate and come together again during the end of the year holidays.

So that’s about it for today I reckon. What’s done is done and of course there is always tomorrow and the day after. So much depends on the weather, both inside and out. But overall things should be alright as far as I can tell, and I can tell a lot…



05 Towers Of London

Like A Hurricane

Monday again. It’s sort of been a rather blah day. Not even blasé, but rather ‘blah’. Woke up this morning, still asleep with Bill kissing me good bye and asking what I was doing. I said sleeping and tried to get back to sleep.

He was snoring again last night. It doesn’t make for a restful sleep. Usually when he leaves for work, that is when I finally can get some rest. The last thing I needed was for Bill to ask what I was doing when it was plain to see that I was sleeping.

A letter I wrote was recently published in the Hudson Reporter, singing the praises of the bibliothèque. They’ve published me before, but this time I’ve used my pseudo real name instead of Anonymous.

I pointed it out to the librarians when I returned the DVD of The September Issue, a documentary on the making of the September issue of Vogue magazine. Anna Wintour, Grace Coddington and Andre Leon Talley.

It was a fascinating documentary on how a magazine is put together and reminded me of the time I spent at People Magazine. But Carol Wallace certainly did not have the clout of Anna Wintour. And Anna Wintour was the inspiration behind The Devil Wears Prada.

I wanted Bill to see it since his office building is shared with Conde Nast publications. But instead I returned it and will take it out again at another time.

I neglected to mention that yesterday while busking with Francine I also played along with Teach Your Children. Today I went to the river, not too many people around, despite it being a nice day. No Tariq around and the drunkards were nowhere to be found.

I played Walk On By without the capo that’s suggested and also The Wind Cries Mary. No singing, no encouragement. Nearby there were three women doing a modeling shoot. A photographer, a stylist and the model. They paid me no mind and I did the same.

While the model was changing clothes the photographer asked if she could take my photo. I said sure, and also gave her my camera and asked if she could take a couple of snaps with it. She gladly obliged. She said she was going to take my photograph when I wasn’t looking so she might have done just that.

I was only out for a couple of hours before heading back home. Bill is at rehearsal tonight, I’m watching TV once again. I did spend some time this morning listening to my brother Frank’s podcast.

It sounded good. I hardly listen to the radio though. He’s the exception. I’m embedding his podcast below for you to hear for yourself.

Not much going on other than that. Just a rather dull day. Bright and sunny, but a bit cool. Maybe tonight I will sleep well. I would appreciate that. But that’s more up to Bill than me.

Should be a nice quiet time tonight here at home. Hope you have the same, even if you’re in Bala Cynwyd.

While passing through Algiers...

While passing through Algiers...


The photographer, the model and the stylist

The photographer, the model and the stylist


Me, taken by the photographer with my camera

Me, taken by the photographer with my camera


Me again, taken by the photographer with my camera

Me again, taken by the photographer with my camera