Tag Archives: Pat Longo

Faust Arp

Something happened yesterday that I forgot to write about. A nice thing, doesn’t happen often, at least not to me. I was at the supermarket buying groceries. I try to buy what’s on sale and use the store shopping card to get the necessary discounts.

At the express line the total came out to be $20.10. I checked my wallet and had the 20 dollars but no change. That meant I was going to have to charge it, which I was hoping not to do.

It’s not like Farfetched where when I was working I always made sure I had some extra coinage in my pocket so if someone couldn’t make the full total, maybe off by a quarter I would cover it for them.

That never really happened often but I had the money and didn’t really mind and it helped make Farfetched such a good place to shop, at least when I was behind the counter.

So at the supermarket in the express line I was short 10¢ and I said aloud that I had the 20 but no 10. I swiped my credit card when a young woman behind me offered me 10¢. Awfully nice of her and I took advantage of her generosity.

I thanked her profusely and wished her a good evening and headed out the door. Quite nice and almost restored my faith in the kindness of strangers.

I made myself a decent dinner of ravioli and after that started to watch Countdown with Keith Olbermann. But Olbermann was off and Laurence O’Donnell was guest hosting. In the middle of the first quarter, I got a distress call from Planet Bernadette.

The Planet just needed a ear to vent into and I was more than willing since I’ve done the same to her once or twice. I tried to reassure her that she was in a temporary set back, and sometimes 19 year old boys are just that, boys.

I did my best even though I don’t think it was enough but I did get her to chuckle by the end of the call. When the distress call came in I turned off the TV and when the call was over, I headed out for a walk around Hoboken.

No Bill, no Julio to accompany me and I didn’t bring the iPod. I did have a nice La Flor Domincana Double Ligero cigar that Bill got me for my birthday and walked up Bloomfield Street to the Lipton Tea building at 15th Street on the border of Weehawken.

On my way up there, walking past Rand’s house where the lights were out I got a phone call from Harpy. His disembodied voice made for some pretty good company. We were on the same page basically, ‘fucking republicans’ etc.

It was a 45 minute call with both ends making some pretty good points. I wasn’t red eyed and he didn’t seem too drunk. Came home finishing the cigar around 9:00 and settled in after walking around the Hoboken waterfront.

Around 10:00 I get a call from Lois whom I’ve been hearing a lot from lately and that’s a good thing. She was calling from a bar and she sounded drunk. She had 2 words to say to me, Art Hams.

The Art Hams were a band that Rand and I created about 22 years ago to play at the Martha-thon for Martha Griffin who was trying to make a movie at the time. I figured she was hoping to get Rand and I active again and I really didn’t see any reason we couldn’t do it.

Perhaps these Nurk Twins will ride again someday. Then Lois drunkenly slurred that she loved me and hung up.

It’s funny, nowadays when rand, Lois and I go out we’re usually home by midnight which moves the time for drunk dialing up a few hours, from 3:00AM to 10:00PM which is acceptable.

Then after that a text from Rand basically saying Art Hams. I figured that he was out with Lois. I was slightly put off by the fact that I wasn’t asked but I had just gotten home from walking around Hoboken and probably wouldn’t have gone out again, but with some prodding I probably would have made an attempt as my sneakers were still on my feet.

Am I a recluse? Is that why I wasn’t asked? Am I Greta Hughes or Howard Garbo or something? I didn’t care anyway, it was a momentary thing.

Bill was off in Elmira and after watching Bill Maher I watched the news, then the Simpsons and then started clearing out the DVR recorded list.

Such an exciting Friday night.

Wound up watching Scrubs from the last season and eventually deleted most of them except for the last 3 episodes. Then I went to bed, not because I was tired, but because I was bored.

Couldn’t fall asleep easily, perhaps because Bill wasn’t there next to me sleeping. I listened to the garbage truck roll up the street picking up the trash and my gigantic computer monitor that I had no use for and no one would want it since it was a big tube thing and not the flat screen that most everyone uses these days.

Woke up OK. Got a text from Casey Chasm, which is what actually woke me up. Mrs Chasm had a baby girl, Anna I believe, 8 pounds, 4 ounces. Beautiful news to wake up to.

Casey and Baby

I got myself together and headed out after a cuppa. Got some bagels and the paper and came back home where I noticed a bicycle lock, cut open.

Julio’s bike was no longer in the front of the building like it’s been for weeks. Gone. Not his $1,000 Bianchi but his everyday street bike. Douche bags a plenty. He was sad as was I. He was off with Stine and Alexander when I called.

After that I walked over to Target to get an over the door coat rack since I broke the one we had a week ago. A nice walk on the new walkway between Hoboken and Jersey City and within minutes I was in Target.

I found what I needed and also picked up a cool t-shirt and an iTunes gift card for a certain nephew who’s birthday is next week or so. Also picked up some t-shirts for Jim Mastro who asked Meghan to ask me.

Not a problem.

Ran into Rand (and also saw Patrick Murphy for the 2nd time today). Rand was on his bike and pedaled next to me as we headed back to Hoboken on the walkway.

Rand went his way and I gave Jim his t-shirts. He’s off to the UK to possibly play with Mott the Hoople at their reunion next month.

I came home, had a salad and headed to the Hoboken Historical Museum where my friend Pat Longo’s brother Mike has an exhibition. It was fun, good to see Pat who was spinning records and Allison Lee his wife, partner and mother of Hank. Allison and I share a birthday. After a crunchy Boca burger I was out of there.

Super nice guy Pat Longo

Super nice guy Pat Longo

So that was that.

Planet Bernadette still is a bit shaky but like Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius by way of 24 Hour Party People says: It’s my belief that history is a wheel. “Inconsistency is my very essence” -says the wheel- “Rise up on my spokes if you like, but don’t complain when you are cast back down into the depths. Good times pass away, but then so do the bad. Mutability is our tragedy, but it is also our hope. The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away”.

Probably said it in a bathhouse, but it’s the message, not the medium damn it!

9.19.09 Around HOB 001

This piece got my attention.

This piece got my attention.

9.19.09 Around HOB 010

Empire State Building out for a cruise

Empire State Building out for a cruise

The Planet Bernadette Dancers

The Planet Bernadette Dancers

9.19.09 Around HOB 019

Eight Miles High

Well today has been a lovely Sunday. Bright and sunny with only a few minutes of drizzle then it all went back to being sunny and gay. Well it’s always gay for me and maybe for some of you too.

Sorry about the late posting last night. Firefox has been misbehaving lately. Each time I would try to upload pics to the blog the Firefox browser would crash.

Over and over again.

Then I went out to meet up with Rand and Lois to discuss plans for their short film that might be shot over a weekend in a few weeks. I am game for it and told Lois that I would be willing to do just about anything she might want me to do.

It was a good meeting with laughs liberally applied. I’m not getting into any further for now. Don’t want to give anything away or offend any gentleman’s sensibilities though Clive Davis should be worried.

Some musical instruments were played with, a piano, a ukulele, a eastern European harp of some sort and a double necked bass & guitar as well as Lois’ Fender Squire which I liked. Lois asked if we were up for some drinks and Rand said yes and I said no. Then I thought about it and said why not?

It was off to DC’s Tavern on Eighth Street all the way in the back of Hoboken. Everyone’s friend Pat Longo DJ’s there sometimes and I can’t say I’ve ever made it to his spinning sessions. Finally making it there I wondered where does Pat Longo set up his turntables and whatnot.

It’s not that large a space and a lot smaller than I had imagined. It seems like DJ’s Tavern would really like to be a roadhouse. Streamers advertising Pabst Blue Ribbon were hanging underneath beer trays for Pabst as well as other beers.

I expected to see some Rhinegold, Ballentine’s and Schaffer beer trays hanging but didn’t see any from my angle. Cute bartender though, shaved head and inked which isn’t normally my style but any port in a storm. Alas, there was no storm though.

It was a good evening with more laughs with Rand and Lois who I’ve known since 1983. I definitely look forward to the filming of their filmic world. After a few pints of Guinness and some cocktails for Lois we headed out, I was able to light up a San Luis Rey Rothchilde for the walk home, with even more laughing with old friends.

When I got home I checked the blog and was surprised that what I had written a few hours previous wasn’t posted. I was able to figure out what happened wrong on that front and re-posted. Then I watched some rebroadcasts of Lost from the first season.

Posted the pictures this morning on Internet Explorer. As I am doing right now.

With the Guinness and walking around Manhattan in the afternoon with Bill I decided to head to bed with Bill sleeping quietly under his sleep apnea mask. He was up and about around 7:00 which was just wrong in my book. I finally got out of bed myself around 9:00 after Bill had headed off to collect his mother.

I made some coffee, showered and was soon out and about picking up newspapers and other weekend morning items. Saw Julio with Alexander from a distance as they were waiting for Stine and her family from Denmark. I was off to the supermarket so a wave would have to suffice.

It was a nice morning and I wound up playing selections from Woody Allen’s movies, which were mainly songs from the Big Band era. Bill and I watched a little bit of Peter Marshall on PBS hosting a pledge time Big Band special.

I knew most of the songs last night and with Bill’s Shazam application for his iPhone we were able to identify and tell the difference between Chick Webb and Harry James.

My sister Annemarie had burned the Woody Allen stuff a few years ago but they couldn’t be identified through Gracenote on iTunes since I think Annemarie had her son Earl do the CD burning. Too complicated for her and some fun for Earl since he threw everything out of order and it took me a couple of years to figure out what’s what.

It was too nice to stay in today so I walked over to the Hudson River and sat by the soccer pitch and read the New Yorker and enjoyed another San Luis Rey Rothchilde.

I’m still trying to get my brothers and sister on board for what could be Paul McCartney being the first concert at the new Mets stadium in Flushing in July. Right now it’s only a rumor, but it’s a fab rumor.

a brief approaching storm from the west of Hoboken

a brief approaching storm from the west of Hoboken

You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)

Tuesday today. Let’s see, Bill woke me up again this morning at 6:50 which was fine. I was out of bed and doing my thing. Bill is off to his sleep apnea test tonight which leaves me solo. Not such a bad thing, though the bed will be emptier than it should.

Looking forward to President Obama’s press conference tonight. Still a refreshing thing to see and hear a world leader speak so intelligently and with authority. For some reason the right wing nuts have been going off on the fact that Obama reads from a teleprompter. What the fuck is that about?

I know the previous President, you know, the door knob, had difficulty pronouncing nuclear correctly, but all they could do is complain that Obama reads from a teleprompter? What? Did they think Bush was talking off the top of his soft skull?

They also have been complaining that Obama is busy multi-tasking. I know, that’s not right, especially since the door knob before him had difficulty watching TV and eating pretzels.

Yesterday was a busy Facebook day. Last night I was posting with a few other people, specifically Pat Longo. Nice guy, friends with my brother Frank and other WFMU types. Pat doesn’t like the Beatles. Says they’re overrated.

I can see how he might say that though I obviously don’t agree. For me, my love for the Beatles, isn’t just the music. It’s the whole cultural phenomenon that started 45 years ago and continues to this day.

They still sell plenty of records and books, and soon they’ll be on Guitar Hero or perhaps Rock Band. I don’t know, I’m not a gamer. For the seven years that they were active, they were in my eyes, four of the coolest people on the planet. Clothes, hair, & attitude still resonates. I know, I’m biased.

I love playing their songs on guitar and singing along. I’ve read their books, from badly written biographies to trainspotters writing about every recording session to the smallest detail. Moms and dads and kids liked them and still do.

I was devastated when John was murdered, and was very upset when George was attacked by an intruder and I cried when he passed away a year or so later. I shed a tear or two seeing Paul live at Madison Square Garden in 2005, and smiled sweetly when I saw Ringo do a morning set at Bryant Park for Good Morning America.

I think they were and still are amazing. There were moments that I resented them for casting such a large shadow on everything that came afterwards. The resentment was momentary and faded away and still I loved them. They probably resented the shadow that they had created and were forced to live in. Still, they weren’t going hungry.

I think one of the first musical memories I had was of my brother Frank playing Strawberry Fields Forever and when it faded out and in at the end he turned out the light in his bedroom and scared me. Strawberry Fields Forever makes for a better musical memory than Winchester Cathedral which could actually be the first song I actually recognized.

I owe my Beatles fixation to my brother Frank who gave me my first Beatles LP as a consolation for not taking me to see the bicentennial fireworks like he had promised. It was Abbey Road, their last album. Which in a way makes sense for me since I tend to do things backwards.

I started collecting their records, looking for the original Capitol Records rainbow edged albums, or releases on the Apple label, buying import singles with songs I never heard before, like The Ballad of John & Yoko.

Side note: one of the reasons that I took the job at McMann and Tate aka Wolff Olins was because they helped design the Apple Records label back in 1968. And that didn’t go so well for me 38 years later.

I just figured out a few weeks ago that John, Paul, George & Ringo, which I’m sure you know is sometimes how they’re mentioned, is the order that the band was formed. Maybe it was obvious, maybe I’m a dunce.

From July 5 1976 until December 9 1980 I felt I might have a chance of seeing the four of them perform again, or at least release a record. We know how that turned out.

But I still play them, I’m still enthralled, and I’m still a Beatles fan, and you know you should be glad. Yeah yeah yeah!

Tell Me Something Good

It’s Tuesday. In a much better mood at that. I did think about going to McSwells for their holiday party, but it’s always so awkward. I’d go and see Roda but he would be wanted by so many that I would stand around wondering what am I doing there.

Rand and Lisa went and I bet they had a good time. They always do. And the wonderful Pat Longo was DJing and I’m sure he did well. Whether or not any one danced is another story.

As much as I loved to DJ at the McSwells party, it was always a stressful affair, including one time Irwin Bicuspid was sitting next to the speakers and complaining about the music being too loud. He is or was a DJ at WFMU as well as my brother Frank.

No one would dance at the holiday party despite my best attempts. It didn’t matter since I wound up getting as fucked up as everyone else. New Years Eve was a nerve-wracking experience as well.

No one would dance at all before midnight when, no matter what year it was, I would play Prince- 1999. That would get those asses shaking not to mention those butts. And of course I would get as fucked up as everyone else, usually spinning from 9PM until 3 or 4AM.

I would usually be situated by the bar so it was an easy reach to the right for a fresh cocktail or pint of Guinness. But somehow I acquired the foresight and knew that I couldn’t keep on partying like that.

Plus I wasn’t in Hoboken anymore, I was in Weehawken and the walk home wasn’t as kind as it used to be. So I eventually faded from view at McSwells.

Steve Fallon eventually sold the place to a guy I never had the misfortune of meeting though I did see the huge beer vats that he had installed in the front room. He gave up after alienating most of the staff and regulars and it fell into the hands of Todd Abramson and 2 others.

When I did go back I didn’t know anyone, except for Roda who signed on after the Fallon era, after listening to the fun stories that Rand and Julio and myself told him about what fun we had there.

It wasn’t fun anymore, Todd had taken control and the regulars moved on, sobered up or died. He’s still there though and it would have been good to see him last night. Perhaps Friday I’ll pop in for a pint and give him a holiday hug.

Last night was quiet instead. I watched Heroes instead of recording it. I was glad that I did, especially with the Obama-esque president at the end. A black president. You only see his lips and his eyes, never his whole face.

If I recorded it, it more than likely would have been cut off like the previous weeks. It did give me a chuckle. He did a better job of a Barack Obama impersonation than Fred Armisen.

So I’m in a better mood today. The stalker phoned and Vivek took the call as he was at my desk. He told the stalker that I am being fired because she wouldn’t stop calling. She asked him where his ethics were, firing me at Christmastime.

He told her that if she wants to call me she should call Ireland starting in January and hung up the phone after wishing her a good life. I wished I would have thought of that. Still I forwarded my phone to the fax machine in case she calls again.