Tag Archives: The New Yorker

I Alone

A day without the brain dead Bradley is like a day with sunshine. Yes the brain dead Bradley went back to the confederacy, just a few days off, not permanent, but one can hope and entertain fantasies. Like being struck by a homesickness, symptoms so strong that he may feel the best thing to do is stay put.

Just finished last week’s New Yorker, specifically the article on the brain and how it relates to time. Or the article on time and how the brain perceives it. To my surprise towards the end of the article they go to England where they meet up with Brian Eno, who is very much interested in that type of thing.

Then there was a review of the new book on Malcolm X which was a good read. I was big into Malcolm X before the Spike Lee revival, in fact I was one of the few white guys in the US who was wearing a Malcolm X t-shirt a few years before the movie came out.

Oh the stares I used to get. I still respect Malcolm X but I certainly do not have the same ardor that I used to have. And the OCD from the other day was a complete waste of time. Of course the door was locked. I realized that this morning on the way in. I remembered looking at the door key as I was walking out and that should have been the tip off.

I came in this morning, and Calvin had a complaint about how one of his customers, Steve Sciatica was upset with me. Mainly because he’s an idiot and I did not laugh at his asinine jokes, so he went running to Calvin to complain. The guy is strictly vaginal slang.

Funny thing is, or maybe the ironic thing, is that Bill’s boss bought Bill a box of cigars for administrative professionals day. I set the whole thing up on Tuesday, no discount, all on the up & up.

Now the same thing happened in December and Calvin took the sale and the commission then, he was all over Bill’s boss like white on rice. Yesterday since it was my sale Calvin barely gave Bill’s boss the time of day.

Now compare that to Calvin’s guy who is a gigantic asshole to Bill’s boss who isn’t. It’s the ace up my sleeve if and when Calvin has the cojones to bring up Steve Sciatica once again.

I did speak with Thomas (who while being only a year or two older than Juan, is so much younger mentally & culturally than our Juan) about the Calvin/Sciatica Bill’s boss thing while Calvin was at lunch and told Thomas that what I was telling him was in confidence and that I didn’t need to have to deal with another situation with the brain dead Bradley in any event.

When I came back from lunch I found that Calvin was oddly distant, but that might have been some substance marking the distance.

I spoke with Hyman Gross today. He is having surgery on his tibia and fibula tomorrow morning at 10:00. It all depends on his bone density whether or not he can get a pin inserted. Or it will require a cast on his leg, forcing him to stay put for 12 weeks, which isn’t that good since Hyman lives to get around. Or a plate for his leg which will also incapacitate him for a lengthy amount of time. We’re all hoping he has good bone density.

I won’t be able to see him until Sunday but I will be calling him tomorrow afternoon.








Interesting to see ol’ lazy teat Greg still reading the blog.

Wise Up! Sucker

It’s a beautiful day today. Nice and breezy, sunny, hardly a cloud in the sky.

Congratulations to Rand & Lisa for 14 years of wedded bliss. I believe the proper gift for the 14th anniversary is waffles.

Last night was another nice evening. Didn’t do much except to sweat over last night’s entry. And it was probably a bland entry, I was pulling out every word like I was pulling teeth.

I was just thinking about a bus ride into the city that I took the other day. A woman asked me if 19th and Willow was Hoboken or Weehawken. I told I thought it was Weehawken.

I lived on top of the Palisades and the area below, specifically 19th and Willow was called the Shades. It was in the shade of Troy Towers and the cliffs. Strange people down there, not really trusting of the people that lived on the top.

In any event, I told her to use landmarks instead of street directions since it would probably be easier. She mentioned that she was a former resident of Hoboken for 55 years then moved to the Land of Enchantment, New Mexico.

But now she was back for a funeral at St. Lawrence Church.

I walked over to St. Lawrence Church about 10 years ago when my landlady was on her death bed and since she was a Catholic I figured it would be nice for a priest from that parish to show up and comfort her in her final days.

The priest was hesitant, not really willing to play the role of shepherd of his flock. I sort of brow beat him into it and he did eventually show up. The landlady’s kids Derf and Pastie weren’t about to do anything like that.

The streets are still devoid of children most of the day and that’s fine with me.

I sat by the river and read the New Yorker. Also canceled my monthly bus pass from NJ Transit since it didn’t make sense since I’m not going in as often as I had used to and it is belt tightening time after all. I’m just glad I have a New Yorker subscription until May 2011.

Been listening to Lucinda Williams which an on line buddy turned me onto. She’s pretty cool and of course I heard about her for years already. Once again late for the dance.

I am thinking about heading over to Journal Square tonight to take part in a health care reform rally. I signed up to show up and since there is nothing else to do, that might be the thing to do. And I do believe in health care reform.

Last night I spoke to Lovely Rita. It had been a while since we last chatted. She is now a dog groomer and making some extra bucks which is good. I called her to let her know that 2 of her favorite bands were on TV last night, Cheap Trick was on Conan and the Black Crowes were on Letterman.

She opted for Cheap Trick since the Black Crowes have slowly been mutating into the dreaded Allman Brothers. Does that make Kate Hudson, the Cher to Chris Robinson’s Gregg Allman?

None of that hippy crap for Rita!

I watched about a minute of the Black Crowes before Cheap Trick came on and I quickly changed channels when Rick Nielsen and the band came on. I was glad that I did.

Well soon I will be headed to Journal Square so I may post later on when I get back.

Same Bat time, same Bat channel.

Well I just got back. OK turn out, maybe 100 people.
It’s strange. I must put out an odd vibe or look conservative.
No one would really talk to me about the issues though I was there to support them.
The only one who did was May Young. They need more outgoing people like May Young, that are willing to reach out and talk to everyone.
Someone like her would get more people active in the cause.

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Her name is May. She was very friendly and outgoing.

Her name is May. She was very friendly and outgoing.


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9.2.09 Health Care Rally 078

August Day

Well today is Saturday, I figured that out by myself. Bill is here and we’ve been cooped up all day. It’s been raining on and off but I was able to get out for an hour or so.

So I walked by the river and sat, reading the New Yorker and enjoying a cigar. Deep sea diving without scuba apparatus is not on my list of things to do. That was one of the articles I read.

The other was a pretty funny piece by David Sedaris about going to Australia as well as about living with his father when he was growing up and singing a song about the Kookaburra bird with his sister Amy.

It was funny until he was smacked with a fraternity paddle by his father after being told to go to bed 3 times. Ah memories.

Not much of anything going on today, just waiting for the next rainstorm I guess. The cicadas are still doing their thing and it’s quite humid out.

I have some DVD’s from Netflix that Bill and I are planning on watching tonight. One is the Luis Bunuel directed version of Robinson Crusoe.

The other is John Huston’s production of Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood, but I think Bill would be more interested in the third DVD, The Panic in Needle Park.

My Uncle Joseph lived in the Bronx for a time and called basically any NYC playground Needle Park. When visiting we would sometimes go play in Needle Park, or what he said was Needle Park.

It didn’t sound charming but it was somewhere to go while the adults kibbutzed. I’ve never seen the movie before but it should be an interesting period piece of Manhattan starring a young Al Pacino.

Right now we’re watching the end of The Fugitive, starring Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones. I pointed out former Chicago politician, now US Senator Roland Burris in the St. Patrick’s Day parade.

I’m just waiting for the Janitor from Scrubs to make his appearance as the cop on the train. They even mentioned it in an episode of Scrubs a few years ago.

Today is also my sister’s birthday! Happy birthday to Annemarie! Tried calling at my usual weekend time but there was now answer so Bill & I left a nice happy birthday greeting accompanied by Altered Images singing Happy Birthday.

I’ll be giving a call later so hopefully Bill and I can sing live rather than committing to tape. That’s what I think would be preferable, don’t you?

No other plans for the evening and what I do tomorrow would depend on the weather as well. I’m hoping for a nice day. I guess a trip to Central Park would be nice.

Now Harpy is on the phone, bemoaning the fact that it’s so humid. As if it wasn’t humid here in the swamplands of Hoboken. But it’s an outlet for him and I’m glad to oblige. It gives him a cooler head somewhat which is good for him and the rest of Washington Heights I suppose.

Bummed Out City

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

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

Like I wrote yesterday there were no survivors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I should have gone into Manhattan.

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News crews in their tents

News crews in their tents

Number One

Well today is a beautiful day, no rain, a blue sky with a few clouds, temperature just right, low humidity, everything seems just right and I’ve got the ‘blahs’.

The cloud of discontent which comes with unemployment sometimes floats in my head. I know things could be worse, but still- this malaise. It’s been around in small doses lately and I’ve been dealing with it, not writing about it, but today it is the elephant in the room.

Too much news didn’t help matters much at all. Lot’s of health care talk, lot’s of talk about right wing disruptions of Town Hall meetings. Nonstop throughout most of the day. It wore me down quite a bit.

Even took a cat nap which was good for a few minutes, but whatever good came from it didn’t last long. The highpoint of the day was a trip to the supermarket. Really, that was it.

Actually running into Scott Harbison who was on his way to Williamsburg was the highpoint. After Scott, I sat on Pier A and read the New Yorker, an article about traveling through Siberia. I couldn’t get into part one from last week, but I found myself somewhat engrossed by part two.

From reading that, I have no plans to travel in Siberia, not that I ever did before. I did DJ one night many years ago at a club in Manhattan called Siberia and that seems enough for me.

Last night I went for a walk with Julio again. Avoided some people that he didn’t want to see. Strolling by Sinatra Park there was a band doing the Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with attampts at the dance steps described in the song.

Spoke with my brother Brian for a few minutes on the phone and that was quite nice. Then Julio & I walked along the river further up to Pier 13 where some reggae music could be heard. We wandered over to check it out.

Where on Wednesday night, there was maybe 50 people watching Karen Kuhl, The Fave & Lloyd United, last night there was about 5 people. It was poorly promoted and it’s too bad since the Skyrockers Reggae Band were actually pretty good.

Julio and I stayed for a few songs. They sound more like Gregory Isaacs or Inner Circle with Jacob Miller than a cover band doing the Bob Marley & the Wailers’ Legend album.

It would have been fine with me to stay but Julio was more inclined to leave after buying a bottle of water for himself and a beer for me. If I had known the show would be so under attended I would have put up some fliers or at least tried to have gotten the word out online somehow.

Since there was no cover charge I could only guess the band was getting a flat fee, making their performance last night a paid rehearsal.

Came home after that and watched some TV with Bill which was nice. Just don’t ask me what was on since Bill was calling the shots.

Julio just called, he’s outside on the stoop. I told him to give me a call when he’s ready to go for a walk so that’s basically what I’m doing tonight, what I’ve done most every night this week.

I’m not complaining, Julio is good company and it is a nice night after all.

Best to get outside before I start watching the news again.

Tales of Brave Ulysses

Well I’m back. Been back for a few hours actually. Came home, showered and took a nap. Woke up to the sound of the St. Ann’s feast band marching through the streets, and stopping in front of my building for a blessing.

Not the way I wanted to wake up but it worked nonetheless. Still a bit groggy. Many beers were drunk last night and I woke up still buzzed.

Getting to Otisville was pretty easy, got on a train and just took the two hour train ride. Read most of the New Yorker including an interesting article on organ donation for altruistic reasons. Compare that to the organs for cash scheme which was revealed the other day as part of the NJ corruption arrests.

The scam was reportedly going on for 10 years, run by some Rabbi. Nice. I made it up to Otisville with no problems. A few girls making some noise was easily ignored. There was a hitch once I got off the train.

No cellphone service at the station. I stood around for 20 minutes trying to call Pedro & Connie, on their land line and his cellphone to no avail. I didn’t panic. It was a nice day, clear skies and I enjoyed a cigar while I tried to get through. Even tried a pay phone but that was out of service as well.

I finally got through and Pedro was on his way. A few minutes later a car pulls up and I was expecting it to be our friend Excer. No, it was Ulysses, someone I hadn’t seen in years.

Ulysses started working at Murdoch Magazines the day after I started in 1986. We hit it off immediately back then, so much so that I was DJ’ing a friends wedding and Ulysses and his late brother Tony rented me their equipment for $100.00.

I hadn’t seen Ulysses since Tony’s wake in 2000 or so. After Ulysses started working there, in came Pedro and Tony and eventually Excer. Harpy was there by that time as well.

Last night was all about Stella Artois and dominoes Ulysses didn’t play dominoes, he was too busy downloading various programs for his music studio. Pedro, of course dominated the dominoes, I was a drunken second place.

Every one crashed by 1:00, the only 2 staying up were me & Ulysses, chatting away until 2:30 when he decided he had to head home despite Connie setting a bed for him.

I tried to convince him to stay over but as Pedro explained this morning, he never stays out, always heads home before sunrise. I woke up bleary eyed, hearing Excer and Connie talking in the kitchen.

Excer offered me a ride back to Hoboken so I figured he would want to get moving soon. I got out of bed and had some pancakes and scrambled eggs that Connie made as well as some coffee.

Excer and I were on the road at 10:30, taking Route 17 all the way down to Route 3 where I directed him to Hoboken, specifically right in front of my building.

Came upstairs, Bill was cleaning the apartment. I showered and took a nap. After being awoken by the St. Ann’s feast band, I went for a stroll with Julio.

We stopped in Radio Shack when all of a sudden, the skies opened and it started pouring and hailing. We were inside the store for about a half hour waiting for the rain to stop.

The staff didn’t mind, they were too busy laughing at the soggy people walking down the street avoiding cafe umbrellas that started flying on the sidewalks.

That is about it. I’m sure I will sleep well tonight. Here are some pictures from last night.
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Pedro

Pedro


Ulysses

Ulysses


Excer

Excer


Me

Me


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Connie

Connie


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loungin

loungin


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My Double Six

My Double Six

Kids

Well today turned out to be quite alright. Greg Stevens returned, no longer working for my company. That would make it 3 employees and there’s only 2 left and I’m the one who’s getting paid.

The day started out threatening to rain but it turned out not to happen despite people walking with open umbrellas, not wanting to be caught, no way, no how.

Very good New Yorker last week. Reading about exotic animals who were brought into this country, mainly Florida, then when they got to be too much to deal with, were released into the wild.

So there is a population explosion of Burmese pythons slithering about down there. Yet another reason, not to go to Florida. Never liked snakes and I’ve never touched one. Same thing with guns. Never liked them and never touched one.

Guns and snakes, two things not to give me for a present. Hope you kept the receipt just in case.

I was a bit busy dealing with Vivek’s business partner on the phone, getting things done for Greg Stevens, and the usual maintenance of the office, which included booking conference rooms and all three were reserved.

That made the conservatives a bit upset since they usually just take any room that’s available and leave it messy. But like Annemarie said, it’s job security to clean up after these do nothings.

One of the conservatives was mouthing off about how President Obama is going to release so ‘terrorists’ in this country. Of course he was stoking the fire, making it sound like Khalid Sheik Mohammad would be selling fresh Kalkalash from a food truck outside the office.

It actually means that they will be tried and held in US prisons and they will stay there if guilty and likely deported if not guilty. This one guy looks like Senator Boehner and seems to get all of his information from Fuck Snooze.

Last night Bill was off doing his reading series and I was home while a maelstrom raged outside. I watched Heroes which was ok. It was mainly about Sylar and it was a bit of a let down. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to Rebel Micah, and his scenes involving Ellen Greene as his mother were good.

But he seems to be going off the deep end in a mostly boring way. And Hiro is really quite annoying, mostly through his Japanese accent. I don’t mind the subtitles but he sounds like a moron most of the time when he’s speaking. Peke pani?

Tonight promises to be quite mellow which is always welcomed. Board of Education election was today and I usually don’t vote in those since I don’t have any kids. But Sheilah Scully asked that I vote, well asked me and her other Facebook friends, so I did.

The polling place is only a hundred yards from my apartment so it was no big deal. I voted for the Kids First slate.

Also moved Casey Chasm closer to my former co-worker, Austin. Perhaps they’ll work something out. I know Casey and the Missus read this here blog, so I hope they realize that the people I work with do not know anything about this here blog. Ya heard?

Really diggin’ that one song from MGMT, which happens to be the title of today’s entry. t

Bedsitter

Well last night was Tuesday night and actually the first night since New Years Eve that Bill was able to sleep in our bed. He came home around 8:00 and was very happy to be home. I greeted him with a hug and a kiss.

Almost immediately we fell into our old routines, he sitting on the couch and me sitting where I am now, in front of the computer. Also like our old routine, we watched Scrubs from this past season which is now on ABC. And we had seen both episodes already.

I was surprised that he went to bed before the old stand by, Lawn Hors D’oeuvre SVU. It was a decent episode, but it lacked the made up lyrics that Bill and I used to sing over the theme song.

I watched the Daily Show after that, more of the Jon Stewart/Jim Cramer showdown, of which Jon Stewart has been hitting home runs with a ball that might as well be shaped like Jim Cramer’s face. Jon Stewart was on point.

I tried watching the Colbert Report but couldn’t keep up and soon went to bed. There was Bill, fast asleep and snoring. That kept me awake for a while but soon he stopped and I was able to fall asleep to the sound of the recyclables being dragged to the curb a little after midnight.

Getting up was out of the ordinary. It used to be that Bill was up around 5:30 to head to the gym but he was up around the same time as me after both of us kept hitting the snooze button on our respective alarm clocks. He was gone before I was, and I made my way to the bus stop.

One aspect of getting up earlier is the fact that it isn’t as crowded at 7:00 in the morning than at 8:00. Lot’s more people but still I found a comfortable seat and finished the article in the New Yorker about David Foster Wallace and the depression that eventually caused him to take his life.

It mentioned a few of his books, except for the book that I received as a gift about 5 years ago from Sarah Fortner, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. I tried reading it but found it too dense for my taste. Sad that he killed himself, the medications he was on didn’t help him at all.

I remember a quote but can’t figure out who said and I probably have it wrong anyway, but basically I relate it to how if a person would take their medications to deal with their inner devils, their inner angels would never forgive them.

The inner struggle that takes place and can cause creative urges. I still have the David Foster Wallace book and one day I’ll get around to reading it, perhaps with the proper dose of medication.

Work was quiet for me, and I wound up being more of a DJ than an office manager. Not much going on, Tom Chin out, Vivek still on the road. Since I wasn’t busy at all, the day crawled.

No ‘real’ errands to run, so I found the time to go to Sym’s where I bought a nice Ben Sherman tie, a skinny tie for $15.00, originally priced at $30.00. I plan to wear it tomorrow, Thursday which is the last day of my work week.

Bill is coming home tonight again, which makes it the first time since October where he’s spent 2 consecutive nights here in Hoboken. His mom is being monitored in Beth Israel hospital and she seems to be doing better.

Bill has a stress test on Friday morning so he’ll be staying in Stuyvesant Town Thursday night so he can get to the test on time with a minimum of fuss. Me, I’m looking forward to Lost tonight. Probably won’t be as focused on Sawyer as it was last week, but I do hope it will be as good as it was.

I’ve been playing the War Child- Heroes CD and so far it’s pretty good. Rufus Wainwright does an excellent cover of Brian Wilson’s Wonderful/Song for Children from Smile, and Franz Ferdinand’s live cover of Blondie’s Call Me is killer!

Beck’s cover of Dylan’s Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat isn’t as good as it should be. He changes the line, ‘I saw you making love to him/you forgot to close the garage door’ to ‘you forgot to close the Pill Box door’ which makes no sense at all.

Damn thetans!

Ya Ya

Well back to work, back to normal. The nap helped yesterday afternoon. Still out of it somewhat last night. Bill was also out of it. The weather has gotten considerably cooler so perhaps thats why we were both fatigued. It’s the only explanation I could think of and the idea was placed in my mind from Chaz and a co-worker.

Though I was plenty tired last night, the nap didn’t help with sleeping though. Bill went to sleep around 9:00, I hung in there until after Hillary Clinton spoke at the convention. That didn’t get me fired up not did it tire me out. It was just there. Juan wanted to come by, but things being what they were it was better off that he didn’t. Tonight would have been fine though.

Bill was up and out by 6:00 this morning, I dragged my ass out of bed and got myself ready. On the bus again, no Casey. Read the New Yorker, all about Myanmar/Burma/Rangoon. A definite totalitarian regime, military rulers not allowing aid to come in after the disaster there earlier this year.

The rulers don’t care about what the rest of the world thinks and they don’t care (in every sense of the word) for their own people. Of course since we created the Iraq fiasco, the US credibility is totally shot so if we have anything to say about anything, who would want to listen to us?

Like a few weeks ago, the US stamping it’s feet about Russia going into Georgia, US saying ‘You can’t invade a sovereign nation!’ and the world taking note of that and remembering that, that was exactly what we did when we went into Iraq.

I guess Afghanistan was necessary, sort of going after the Taliban who was fingered as being behind the attacks on 9/11. But you knew all this already.

Meanwhile back in the island off the coast of America called Manhattan, tourists are everywhere, most workers and residents have taken off this last unofficial week of summer. The office wasn’t doing much.

A few more people in, but for me it was like crossing paths since I have taken off tomorrow and Friday. I made a point to write down instructions on how to use the coffee pot. They will have to put their own paper in the printers, and I expect my desk to be covered with mail that arrived when I was out. Not that big of a deal, at least I know what I’m headed towards, come Tuesday.

I saw Chaz after work. He asked me to take his picture in front of the Robert Indiana LOVE sculpture on west 55th street and 6th avenue. So after work I walked over there and took 2 pics. The whole thing took less than 30 seconds.

Afterwards we walked down 6th avneue, just shooting the breeze. He was going to the Virgin Mega Store, and I was headed to the bus terminal. I could have walked over to Times Square with Chaz but if there were hundreds of tourists on 6th avenue, there were more than likely thousands in Times Square and I was not going to walk through that.

No line for the bus and I nabbed a seat in the back, reading some more of Alan Bennett, who’s mother has Alzheimers in the 1970’s. Not the fun, witty stories I envisioned when I took the book out of the library, but I’ll hang in there. He’s bound to eventually get to Oxford and then Beyond the Fringe with Peter Cook, Dudley Moore and Jonathan Miller.

More of the convention on the schedule for tonight. Bill’s home and he’ll probably go to bed soon. I’m off until Tuesday so who knows? I may stay up until midnight and watch the day begin.

and on today’s streets

Rest in Peace Del Martin
Lesbian rights pioneer Del Martin died Wednesday. She was 87. She and her partner Phyllis Lyon were the first to be legally married in the state of California.

Come Fly With Me

A pleasant Monday after a weekend of birthdays, none of which were mine. That would be in September which some of you knew already. It was a beautiful day weather-wise and as I write this clouds hover overhead letting me know that it will rain again if only for a few minutes.

I think I tried too hard on Sunday to duplicate the good feeling of Saturday’s posting. I know I did attempt it. Kind words from Annemarie and bhikku did the job of trying to polish too hard. Still I rallied and posted and hopefully it wasn’t too painful to read.

Girl Talk is still buggin’ me out. It’s so good and it’s driving me crazy. Little bits and pieces of other songs play and I usually start laughing when I hear it and then I rack my brain trying to figure out where that little bit came from.

Hopefully you went to his myspace page and followed the link to the free download. I got one continuous track, and paid the 10.00 fee so I will get the official cd when it eventually gets released.

I also got in the mail today, a previously viewed copy of Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. I still love this movie even though I hadn’t seen it in months. If you’re a music geek like me, I think you will enjoy it so very much.’Get out of here Dewey! You don’t want this!’, that’s all it takes for me to giggle. Worth checking out.

Work was really quiet today. Just me and 3 other people in. It was fine, I knew it was going to be like this. I ran a few errands, wandered around midtown. Lot’s of tourists in town and a lot of workers off for the week, due to the holiday weekend coming up. Even the commute in and out wasn’t so bad, meaning it was not as crowded as it’s been, only 8 people standing instead of 14.

I read the New Yorker from last week, a very funny Shouts and Murmurs by Simon Rich. I just ordered his book, Ant Farm through my library on the http://bccls.org system. Hopefully I’ll get it by Thursday.

Tonight I am meeting my brother Frank at McSwells for a secret gig by the reunited Feelies. They’re opening up for Sonic Youth on Friday, a Fourth of July show at Battery Park which is sold out. The Feelies are also doing 2 ‘practice’ shows tomorrow and Wednesday which are totally sold out, so tonight is for friends of the band.

I’m not a friend of the band, but Frank is friends with Stan Demeski the drummer who put him on the list with a plus one, which is me. So it should be a good show if not an interesting show. Who knows who will turn up? Who knows who was invited? Who knows if Frank got the correct night? All these questions will be answered in a few hours.

So that makes this the early edition. Tune in later I suppose for the rest of tonight’s saga.

I May Be Wrong (But I Think You’re Wonderful)

Well it’s Thursday but it feels like Friday. A holiday weekend Friday no less. But still it’s a Thursday and I made it through ok. My brother in law, Rex had his heart procedure this morning and it went beautifully, thanks to the Italian cardiologist in Cleveland. I said she was Italian because she’s from Italy and apparently the only one in North America who could do the procedure that the numb skulls at UCSF did not follow up on, throwing their bloody hands in the air saying, ‘oh Rex should have come in for a follow up. I guess we should have told you, but we didn’t so you’re fucked. Bye!’ Yeah fuck you too bitches.

I got a phone call from my sister Annemarie, happy to answer it, but dreading what I might hear, but it was Annemarie crying tears of joy, that it went so well. A relief to be able to call my family and tell them the good news. Everyone happy on the family front for Rex. Good news at last.

Last night Bill came home, the third time in a row this week. It’s so good to have him around. He didn’t drive me crazy like he sometimes does. I don’t mind the crazy. I mind the moments of solitude when he’s not here. We watched the season finale of Lawn Hor d’oeuvres. And like the Olivia Show on Lawn Hor d’oeuvres SVU it had an extremely weak ending.

I could have written a better ending than what was presented. Jack McCoy, car chase, shoot out, love scene would have been miles better than the Elliot Spitzer rehash with the governor played by the young Tom Hanks look alike from That Thing That You Do getting off the hook. Bill was vocally disappointed, I wasn’t paying that much attention. I didn’t stay up for the news, I went to bed and fell asleep rather quickly. Woke up Bill still asleep next to me, looking so cute.

I got myself together and was out the door, dropping off God is Not Great at the library having finished it last night. Reading the New Yorker about a club in Hollywood called Largo. It seems it’s the in spot for hipsters and musicians, probably much like McSwells used to be in the eighties and nineties. Almost made me want to go there but realizing that if it made it to the New Yorker it’s time had come and the time will soon be past. Been there done that.

True, John Paul Jones never played on stage at McSwells but hey, we had Peter Buck having French onion soup in the front room with Julie Panebianco and that has to count for something doesn’t it?

Also read about a Jazz afficianado, or Jazz queer as Ann Boyles like to say. A fanatic, the last of a breed searching out Charlie Parker 78’s or Bix Beiderbecke sides from the 1920’s. He has a radio show on WJCR at Columbia University. It was a good article, and I related to it somewhat, though not a jazz fan per se, but the hunting down of records that I loved or heard about was close to home. It almost got me interested in jazz. Almost.

Today was the penultimate day for the sweet receptionist Lydia. That meant going out for drinks. I was smart enough to hit McDonalds and have a little something in my system before quaffing a few pints. It was me and Lydia plus Allen and Rossi. A few laughs over pints with the guys, Lydia sipping a glass of white wine. Marty Allen and I bought a few rounds, I used petty cash, Marty Allen out of pocket. Vivek showed up and gregarious as usual bought the rest of the round as well as some snacks that we could munch on.

Somehow my age came up and I was compelled for the past year to keep it under wraps, but since I was on the spot I had to tell the truth, I am 45. Their reaction? I was a young looking 45. I actually look as young or younger than them, excepting Lydia who’s 21. I act younger than them that’s for sure, excepting Lydia once again. After 4 pints, 2 more than I had planned I made an exit with Lydia, walking her to her train.

Here I am now, hearing that John McCrazy disowned John Hagee’s endorsement which is good news for the country and showing that John McCain really isn’t a good judge of character or a good judge of anything really worthwhile. Now, let’s arrest Karl ‘Big Ass Closet Case’ Rove.

Time to chill. Peace out cub scouts.
Here’s Ian Hunter, a dedication for Annemarie, Rex and Earl

Sister Golden Hair

Ugh, the day after St. Patrick’s Day. Not hungover, just a little buzzed last night, three pints only, no more no less. Slept really well after laboring with the editing of photos last night. Lately I’ve been having dreams that seem to resolve themselves by the time I wake up, though this morning’s dream seemed to take place on a deserted island ala Lost, in a Winnebago that was being shot at. That was where I woke up. I didn’t seem to be disturbed by being shot at in the dream, oddly enough.

Read the New Yorker on the way in and everything seemed to be fine, until I returned from an errand that took about an hour, and when I got back and sat down, I was exhausted. Eventually I rallied and got through the afternoon but it wasn’t easy. Yesterday was a good day, time spent in the love bubble with Bill. The love bubble is when Bill and I are somewhere in public, surrounded by people and all we feel is affection for each other. I doesn’t happen too often lately, both of us need to be in the same space, both mentally and physically and things being the way they are lately makes it difficult. I thanked Bill for that when I got back to Hoboken and waited for Corinne.

Got word from Chaz about our former neighbors in Weehawken. Three sisters, raising a boy and a girl. They were nice, thought our landlords were crazy. Never really hung out with the neighbors, just a friendly hello when we would pass each other. Chaz told me the youngest, the boy named TJ had died in a balcony accident somewhere. That was a shock. He must have been maybe 20 years old. I couldn’t find any information about what happened, if it happened. If it did happen I’m sure they’re devastated. I remember one time after a major blizzard, I was walking past a snowbank when I heard a cry and a scream. TJ was stuck on a snow drift, being pudgy, and his friends all deserted him. I walked over and dug him out and made sure he was alright before he ran back home. That’s what I’ll remember about TJ. A pudgy kid stuck in a snowbank.

In my search for information regarding TJ I googled Jane Street Weehawken. What came up was an apartment listing for my old apartment that I shared with William for 11 years. In those 11 years, the rent never went above $500, which we split. He had 2 rooms, I had 2 rooms ( a bit smaller than his though) separated by a room, with a shared kitchen and bath. It was great, and William was a great decorator, but his decorating sometimes got out of hand. I’d leave in the morning and comeback from work in the evening to find rooms painted a different color, furniture moved around. Sometimes the rent would go up, sometimes it would go down. Now the same apartment is $2200.

Crazy.

They took out the garden in the backyard, and I don’t know what else they did in the apartment, but man that was an eye opener. I split that scene after 11 years with William, 9 of those years silently resenting each other, hoping the other one would move out first. I surrendered when Julio found this apartment in Hoboken. No Pattie and Fred Kleinke banning Bill from the apartment more than 2 nights a week, though lately Bill’s only been here 2 nights a week.

I admit I lucked out with the timing of my moving out, William and Chaz and Kathe had to abandon their apartments about 6 months later when Pattie and Fred decided to sell the house and promised to deliver it empty, not offering William and Chaz a chance to buy it from them. Resentment all around. Even from me though I was already gone. What’s done is done and Jane Street, that magical time, and it wasn’t all bad, is history.