Saturday morning dream that had John Hamilton and Jane Scarpantoni. When I was talking to my brother Brian on the phone he mentioned the vivid dreams he’s been having. I too have been having vivid dreams as of late.

It was a good weekend. Mike came over on Friday and I made a conscious effort to be in a good frame of mind. Bill and Mike sat on the couch chatting the hours away. I turned off the TV and listened with an occasional interjection.

I also played a selection of Brian Eno tracks and picked up the guitar for a bit. it was all very pleasant and I went to bed before Bill or Mike. I slept quite well and woke up before 9 AM on Saturday morning.

Bill dropped off his laundry and got us all breakfast sandwiches from the bagel shop I do not patronize anymore. Bill and I each had one, Mike had two which was fine since Mike paid for his own.

We ran some errands after the breakfast sandwiches, a trip to see Mona, a stop at the dispensary and the cigar shop and then the supermarket. Bill and Mike having good chats as we strolled on a nice Saturday.

Back at the apartment we watched the TV, settling on Wonder Man which was highly recommended by Marcus at work. And Marcus was right, it was very good.

I decided after the eight episodes of Wonder Man which flew by, that another Ben Kingsley movie might be worth checking out, Sexy Beast. I had seen it before. Ben Kingsley steals this movie with his performance.

Mike was not into it and Bill was seemingly ambivalent until the Don Logan character shows up. Soon Bill was off to bed, leaving Mike and me to carry on before I too went horizontal next to Bill, Mike stretched out on the couch. Mike likes the couch and sleeps soundly upon it

Both Bill and Mike were up before me on Sunday morning. No breakfast sandwiches for anyone, though Mike had his cereal and Bill has whatever it was that he had, probably soup. Yes Bill has soup for breakfast on occasion, not as odd as I used to think.

I am at work now. somehow I spaced on sending a reply to an email request. Of course, Yancy found it. Embarrassed and cautious. I was worried about my cognitive skills. So I downloaded a Self Administered Gerocognitive Examination, or SAGE.

I completed the test within a few minutes. Too easy. I guess I am not as far gone as I feared. Or am I? It is a scary prospect. A woman I grew up with, Audrey Iwanicki, had dementia for a number of years before passing away and she was only few years older than me.

It’s really nothing to brag about, taking the test. L’Orange merde brags about it like it was a major accomplishment, and perhaps it is to him

I had an email from the agency that placed me at the fruit stand. My goals have to be emailed today. I thought later this week but the email said otherwise.

Luckily I had actually fed some information into the dreaded AI and to me, the results were satisfactory. But it is not up to me. I sent out what I had and now have to see if it passes the smell test.

Dissolve – reveal

The Occupied Gents
TURN IT UP

Dream about running into 3 people who looked like Woody Harrelson, including a woman. I asked if they were related to Woody Harrelson, and they gave me a dirty look. I told them to remind him he owed me $3.00. One of them was walking on amputated legs.

Another dream where Firestone, Good Year, and other rubber moguls were finding out about rubber. It may have been the mid 1800s, and they were in trees hearing about rubber for the first time

This seems to be a morning where the routine solidifies, and I just have to follow wherever my feet are leading me. I have no idea how I got here, but here I am.

Names that have popped into my head this morning.

Tommy King.
Tommy King was a nice guy. A bit of a marshmallow. Would never hurt a fly.
I met him through Julio and Damian. He was their friend from when they were running around the streets of Hoboken back in the day. When I moved to Weehawken, Tommy was living with his father around the block from me.

We had a couple of nights around Jane Street, smoking weed, hanging out and listening to music. After 11 years on Jane Street, I moved back to Hoboken. I only saw Tommy once again; he was living elsewhere and doing handyman work. Julio told me that Tommy passed away after hanging out with a bad crowd. Julio was greatly upset. When I walk down Garden Street I pass by where I last saw him and think of Tommy King.

Fred Ince. Another nice guy. He looked out for me. We worked together at a bookstore on West Broadway. He was into photography and was hoping to be an assistant to a well-known name. I learned a lot about photography from Fred. When I left the bookstore and wound up at Skyline Studios, he showed up one day, so happy to see where I landed and advised me not to fuck it up.

Fred did like some harder substances than me and I sadly believe they might have been the end of Fred’s story. I’ve looked online but came up short. When I picture Fred, I picture Henry Lewis Gates for some reason.

Rae Guay. She was a sweetheart who believed I was intelligent. I stupidly called her vapid one night, not knowing the proper definition of the word, and saw that I had cut her badly with that remark.

My ignorance was hurtful enough to never see or hear from her again, though I have tried, perhaps half-heartedly, through this here blog. I’d love to speak with her again, she was positive and supportive, whereas I was an idiot know nothing, and I still am.

NOw it is Friday night. Mike is here on the couch listening to Bill’s stories. I sit with my back to them, typing an entry for this here blog. All is well and they’re netertained.