johnozed

This has been an out of the ordinary day. Yesterday was fairly ordinary though. It was a day working alongside Jerry Vale and Thomas. Thomas was doing his best to get on my good side after a week or two of estrangement and it worked. I had forgotten that carrying a grudge could be a burden. SO there was a thawing out of the frosty relations between the two of us. Jerry Vale and I get along just fine.

Still I did get a bit upset with the two of them. On weekends it usually falls to me to clean up the man cave once it is closed to the public. It takes about a half hour generally and for that half hour I am off the floor, not taking sales. The front of the cigar shack needs a cleaning as well and yesterday since the two of them were just staring out the window ogling women walking by, I put the vacuum cleaner between the two of them, saying it was up for grabs.

Twenty minutes later, the vacuum cleaner was still there and I got upset with the two for them. I told Jerry Vale why I was upset and he said he didn’t vacuum since Thomas NEVER vacuums, so why should he? As if that was a viable excuse. So it was left to me to vacuum after I told Jerry Vale off, Thomas in the bathroom dealing with his irritable bowel syndrome.

After that I took the trash to the loading dock and figured that I would give myself a nice break and sat outside the cigar shack on the street watching life go by on a beautiful spring evening. I suppose it was similar to how my mother would ask my brother Brian and me to do something and neither of us would, at least not in the time frame that she had hoped it would get done. Instead Brian and I would fight about it, with Brian usually winning since he was bigger than me.

I came back to the cigar shack, and a little while after that Thomas left early with his IBS, leaving Jerry Vale and myself to close the cigar shack. Jerry Vale and I walked downtown a bit, I was headed to the bus terminal and he was off to who knows where.

I came home to a note on my computer from Bill, asking me to wake him up at 9:30, which I did. I watched Bob’s Burgers, then Nurse Jackie and the Big C followed by Mad Men. Bill was awake for a little while, telling me right in the middle of Mad Men what his past two days were like. He was at an acting seminar and it went well I suppose.

Then he went to bed and luckily I paused the DVR as Bill told his tale, and I was able to watch what was on hold while he talked. I watched the news up to the weather, me not caring much about the sports news that followed. Some more TV before I too went to bed. I had to have some blood work done this morning so I didn’t eat for about nine hours.

I woke up this morning, took a shower and without coffee went out into the world. I ran into my barber Tony, who told me more of his nerve problems, this time not in his left arm but from his neck to between his shoulder blades. It was a brief chat and then I was off to the bibliothèque where I chatted with Diane the librarian about her problems with her apartment.

I picked up Retromania by Simon Reynolds and Live Rust by Neil Young & Crazy Horse. I had a brief chat with Bill on the phone before I went into the local lab where I had four or five vials of blood drawn from my arm. That took about 10 minutes, paperwork included.

Then I left and ran into Jason Stasium who was with his adorable daughter Sophia. I worked with Jason in the last century at Right Track Recording. I didn’t recognize him at first when he started talking to me, thinking he was possibly a cigar shack customer. These things happen without coffee and interacting with humanity. He’s doing well, still an audio engineer and ready to work on whatever projects come his way. He and Sophia walked with me for a while then I was in the supermarket.

As I gathered my provisions I saw Clara, yet another person I worked within the last century. She just got her hair done a few days ago and looked great. She was most appreciative of my earnest compliment. We were both on the line for Isis and the three of us had a few chuckles, as Isis rang up our items. I was surprised at how civil I could be without my coffee, just a few beats behind everything.

I was only gone an hour but obviously a lot had happened in that hour. Finally I was home and able to have breakfast and some coffee that Bill had brewed for me before he left for work. I put away my clothes after breakfast and chatted online with friends. I texted Rand to see if he was around and he responded that he was up for a bike ride. But it was getting close to 90 degrees and I decided to head to the river with a cigar. No bike ride for me today. We may go on Thursday if the weather permits.

I sat by the water and read an interview with Jack White in Uncut Magazine Then I turned the page to an article on the late Alex Chilton, with a photograph taken quite near to where I was sitting by the river, from twenty years ago. It wasn’t exactly a happy article, it was more about Alex Chilton’s downward spiral in the 1970’s.

I walked around a bit after that. There have been advertisements around Hoboken for the Windmill, a Jersey shore fast food place. They were opening a store in Hoboken and I decided to check it out for lunch. I found it, near the Path station and it was still under construction. That was disappointing. Earlier I had gone to Ben & Jerry’s and wanted to treat myself to a Chocolate Therapy milkshake and just like two weeks ago, they were out of Chocolate Therapy.

I walked home, down Washington Street and as I walked past a hardware store I remembered I needed a light bulb. Not just any light bulb, a certain kind of light bulb. And since I didn’t know exactly what kind of light bulb I needed I kept on walking. And as I walked past another hardware store (there are two hardware stores in Hoboken) I overheard a woman telling her son that they needed to get a light bulb.

I came home and took a nap, set the alarm for an hour and woke up after twenty minutes. It’s been an odd day, for me at least. And I didn’t even mention the fact that I helped a few elderly and infirm people in the past 24 hours. Dinnertime!

It’s back to the cigar shack for me tomorrow. Who knows what fresh hell awaits me?

yesterday's sun