Back to dictation. Concrete jungle by Bob Marley plays in my head. Very good song appears on a couple of his albums, live and in the studio

I am reminded of when I was working at 36 West 37th Street at skyline studios. It was the height of my Rasta reggae infatuation. Hanging out one night in the hallway I just had considerably red eyeballs considerably red and me with a gold magic marker in my hand feeling holier than now and tagging up a marble hallway or a hallway lined with marble walls writing no chains around my feet but I’m not free.

Those were the days my friend. Now I don’t see anybody from that time except for maybe Miriam online. She wished me a happy birthday the other day.

Mike’s beloved, wade, has a job offer in New jersey. It’s a big jump from Northern California to New Jersey but that seems to be the plan and I just hope it works out for all concerned

There’s that beautiful black man running by with his headphones on I should have taken his picture but it would be too obvious

It’s another gorgeous Summer afternoon on September 15th. Having had off on Monday I’m at work again on Tuesday. People have commented on my haircut which is understandable since last week it was down to my shoulders and this week it’s barely an inch off my head.

Today I’m at my fruit stand. Tomorrow I will be at the belly of the other food stamp stand.

I have certainly smoked a lot of cigars these past 4 days and I felt it yesterday with bike riding and just walking to work this morning. I told myself perhaps I should cut back and I didn’t listen to myself because I’m outside at my spot smoking a cigar and not a mini cigar but it’s (a guy that it went last week a cigar) that I bought last week.

Julio’s has been working on Dexter: Resurrection. I mentioned to him that a friend of mine, (at Irwin) Pat Irwin, did the music for (us) it. I sort of fudged it though; Pat is a Facebook friend and I have chatted with them a couple of times in person. Pat Irwin is a very nice guy and very talented.

Regardless (cigar v cigar) the cigar that I have smoking is larger than I am used to and I am uncertain whether or not I will finish it before I go back to the office and have to do something with it carrying it around won’t suffice

Perhaps getting at least halfway through it would be the only choice that I have

It was cold (and) in the fruit stand because the air conditioner was on and I was uncertain how it would be on the street. I wore a fleece at the fruit stand and wore it downstairs to the street where I found that it’s warm enough to not need the (police or the police please please) f l e e c e.

Oh this dictation drives me nuts and I will have to edit these things when I get home tonight

I just watched a man who maybe (announced) unhoused walk up to a garbage can holding a drink which he put on the firebox next to the garbage again can and started yelling in Spanish at the garbage can as he goes through looking for food or empty bottles to be recycled

He just grabbed his beverage and walked away shouting in Spanish.

I’m sitting smoking my cigar minding my own business watching everybody go by. A woman (except) smoked a Parliament cigarette and sits about 6 feet away from me. I assume that she will complain about the cigar or the smoke or the smell but she just sat there and getting up a moment ago she turns to me and says nice cigar and walks away.

Concrete jungle with marble walls
A guy with big hair and a Mickey mouse tie underneath his suit jacket just walked by and said he liked my socks. They are yellow socks with images of The Beatles on it.

It’s either you it’s either me it’s either two or maybe three

It’s Monday. I had the day off on Friday and today. A birthday break for myself. I’m glad I did it, though it was up and down for me somewhat. Nothing bad, just weird, unsettling feelings that popped up every now and then, and I kept those feelings to myself. At least, until now.

Over 1400 words posted on Friday. I made it to Kidding Around, a charming little store on West 15th Street. Came home to Bill who was so great this weekend. He went out of my way to make sure I was having a good weekend, and thanks to Bill, I did. It was those times alone when the oddness crept in.

Odd dreams occurred as well. Sometimes disturbing. One had a song by Boz Scaggs, Love Me Tomorrow. An attempt at reggae, I guess. The album Silk Degrees came out in 1976, and reggae was still relatively new to white North American ears. Not the best song on the album, and it played over and over in my dreams.

Saturday morning, Bill was on his way back, and he told me what the plan was for my birthday night. I had a feeling it was a show of some sort. At 5:42 AM, he sent a text: we were going to see ‘In Honor of Jean-Michel Basquiat. A one-man show by Roger Guenveur Smith.

Roger Guenveur Smith was in a few Spike Lee movies. I reminded Bill that his character ‘Smiley’ was the one who started the fire at Sal’s Pizza in Do the Right Thing. The show was about his friendship with Jean-Michel back in the day, initially meeting at a club in Southern California where Roger was rapping and Jean-Michel was dancing.

It was enjoyable, but what was even better was getting off the Path train at Christopher Street and walking across town to the East Village where the show was. It was a pleasant walk, me smoking a cigar or course and having good conversations with Bill.

The show was about an hour long so the walk back was pleasant and we wound up at Grimaldi’s in Hoboken for what is turning out to be a tradition. We both like their pizza very much so everyone wins!

Sunday was a trip to Saddle Brook where my Grand Niece Shelby turned 6 on Thursday. It was supposed to be a barbecue but there was a crazy rainstorm on Sunday morning and though it ended by the afternoon, everything was wet and it was terribly humid.

The food was barbecued, and we ate indoors. My nieces Meghan and Corrine, Meghan’s husband Rob, did the cooking; Shelby was entertaining. Elaine was there as was my brother Brian and his wife Karen, and their daughter Hillary and her boyfriend Seth. Hillary is living in Lodi now.

We were on the train back to Hoboken at 6 PM and had another nice walk home. Bill has been so great. I look in his eyes and see the love he has for me. I hope he sees the same in my eyes. Not much sleep despite all of my attempts. I wisely got out of bed when unable to sleep. It was better than trying to sleep and getting frustrated.

Sleep did come and I slept a little bit later than usual on my days off. I had a plan to go bike riding today since I did not do my usual Sunday jaunt. And I got a haircut. It had been over a year since the last time and Nick the barber also trimmed my beard considerably.

The bike ride was lowkey. Instead of riding to Liberty State Park, I headed to North Bergen. I figured the streets would be crowded with business and traffic in Jersey City where getting to North Bergen is pleasant and has a walkway along the Hudson River which was easily accessed.

I got home and Bill headed out a little while after. The past week or so we had a problem with the bathtub drain. Whereas it would take an hour to drain, the past few days it did not drain at all. Bill used the wet-vac the past couple of days and I wet-vacced today.

Roberto, the handyman finally showed up after Bill was in contact with him for a few weeks. And Roberto fixed it within 15 minutes and then I made my usual pesto, pasta and chicken dinner. Half for tonight, the other half for lunch tomorrow, when I go back to my fruit stand.