Friday has arrived. Just in time for it to be March 6, 2026. Whereas yesterday was raining all day and quite dismal, today is just a little bit cold, a little bit damp. I just had halal food for lunch. It was good. The guys in the box like me, or remember me as the white guy who brings his own bag and does not want napkins or any utensils. I get a smile from them, and I’d like to think a little bit extra, whatever.

Bill is on an island off the coast of America, as am I. He will be back on the mainland eventually, as will I. Mike is landlocked and expected to come over tonight. It’s all planned. He comes over tonight and leaves Sunday, which works out fine for me. On nights where I have to work the next day, I need a good night’s sleep amd when Mike is around, things don’t always work out that way. An occasional grope, and last time Mike said I kept reaching out and hugging him tightly throughout the night.

I’m not complaining, and I don’t think Mike was either. Nothing sexual, more platonic than anything. Mike needs a hug now and then, and I guess I am happy to supply him with hugs. Daylight saving time is tomorrow. Spring ahead, fall behind. One hour of sleep is lost, and I can make it up with a nap. I think it works but we will find out Sunday afternoon I reckon.

My sleep routine has been quite good this past week. I’ve been going to bed around 10:30, and it makes all the difference in the world. I suppose 8 hours is what I require, and though I settle for 7.5 hours, 8 is the ideal. I do have some anxiety thinking it is time to wake up, and if I spy the alarm clock like I did this morning, I find I still have a few hours of sleep to achieve.

The train was not crowded at all this morning. That does not mean it will not be crowded this afternoon, though. Yancey is out today, as is Kimberly, leaving Janis to man the fort up at her fruit stand, and me battening the hatches at this small fruit stand. A box of cigars was delivered last night, but I did not know that until this morning, and I was not about to climb four flights of stairs to drop off a box. Perhaps one of my neighbors will carry it up as Bill & I sometimes do for them.

And my Mojo Magazine dilemma continues. They reupped my subscription, but I am still short an issue with David Bowie on the cover. I got the Small Faces cover, which was issued after Bowie, and it has gotten me playing some Small Faces hits, but let’s face it, it’s not Bowie. Mojo says they’ve mailed another issue to me, but so far, I have not received it. Am I paying for a subscription to a magazine that never arrives?

Last night, before going to sleep, I heard ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ by Billy Joel. This morning I heard ‘It’s Still Rock & Roll to Me’. Strangeness abounds. Walking to the PATH train this morning, Brian Wilson’s Melt Away played in my head.

Silica days

Rainy day in Manhattan, and it’s the same for Hoboken. Grey day, not much to look at. And the rain slows down the time, which makes the day crawl even more.

Bill is on the road once more. Right now, Bill is gathering his things for a four-day excursion. He leaves tonight and maybe back on Sunday, though Monday is probably more like it.

I am back at the fruit stand that I usually sit at. There was a camera meeting this morning, and my two cents lasted about 30 seconds.

IDK is in the studio. IDK stands for Ignorantly Delivering Knowledge, not I don’t know. Handsome bloke, friendly entourage. Handshaking is a way to measure how the artist and entourage are. They put their hand out, it’s all good. They don’t, then who knows what the hell is going on? Some think they’re better than everyone else, and while it’s true that one must have a strong ego to succeed in the business, but being nice certainly oils the machine.

Daylight saving time is this weekend. Moving the clocks up an hour means a loss of one hour of sleep. I like to think an afternoon nap on Sunday would set things straight, though I am not so sure how true that is nowadays. I suppose I will find out on Friday.

Mike plans on coming over to babysit me, that is, if his boyfriend does not make the trip back east. It’s good to have him around, as I have stated before. He mentioned coming over tonight, and I suggested tomorrow as a better day. But we shall find out one way or another, as it depends on the boyfriend from the West Coast.

Hoboken Bon vivant Jack Silbert is interviewing one of the Bongos tonight for the Hoboken Hysterical Museum. It’s not Rob, it’s not Frank, and it’s certainly not Jim. It’s the one that I met early one morning in Union Square, awaiting a free bus ride for a March on Washington. Being a fan of the Bongos, I approached this particular one, who recoiled in horror or shame at being recognized. I guess he did not want his career jeopardized by being seen as gay. Did it work?

Memory from the 1980s. My brother Frank, my sister Annemarie, her friend Patty, and I went to a CBGB matinee that featured Let’s Active. My memory has this matinee as not being crowded at all, and as we walked into CBGBs, Frank swore he saw 2 Bongos making out. I didn’t see it, but Frank did, and it was frankly traumatic for him.

This was before the March on Washington, probably early 1980s, as I may have been living with my parents at that time and in the closet myself. I certainly did not see what Frank said he saw.

Dismal and gray, that is the way of today, or so I say.
And it was now revealed that the interview from the Hoboken Hysterical Museum will be postponed until December 31, 2026.