46 years ago, while working for Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, I was sent to work in Moonachie. Perry Dedovich and I were assigned to clean out a warehouse, working under the supervision of Paul Lo Presti and his partner in embezzlement, Dave Manzo. The warehouse was mostly empty to begin, but there was a lot of dust and debris left behind.

We would take some blue substance and throw it atop the dust so that the dust wouldn’t create clouds. The blue substance was probably toxic but it was 1980 and no one knew any better. We would meet at the book warehouse in Saddle Brook, and get in a dilapidated van for the drive to Moonachie.

Perry and I were major fans of the Beatles and word on the street was that John Lennon was back in the studio after staying out of the recording business for about 5 years. And on top of that the band backing John Lennon was Cheap Trick and that seemed exciting. I believe when we were driving back to Saddle Brook we heard (Just Like) Starting Over for the first time. It was pleasant, not much of an edge to it.

It didn’t sound like Cheap Trick but we didn’t know anything back then. When the single became available I duly went out and bought it. It was a fun, out of the ordinary experience working with Perry under the watchful count of the money eyes of Lo Presti and Manzo.

A little over a year later they would be fired after the embezzlement was found out. Apparently it had been going on for a number of years. John McKenna, John Vasicek, Larry Ioli, Tony Grega and Harold Wind were some of the familiar names I knew since my brothers worked there as well as my Mother.

Mom worked with Mary Lynch who was not a nice person after all and until then, she thought Mary Lynch was a friend. They all benefited from the embezzlement and they were all caught and dismissed, luckily without any charges being filed.

Life was simpler then. Ignorance is bliss and I was certainly blissful. AIDS hadn’t made itself known yet so that part of my life was relatively carefree.

In today’s world, Bill is getting ready to hit the road once again, for. Number of days that bleed in weeks. He should be back by Halloween but who knows? Mike is looking to move in while Bill is on the road, but that depends on his availability and the phantom parole officer.

The parole officer calls and says don’t make any plans and so plans are dismissed or shuffled around

Time is slow at my little fruit stand. It is not busy at all and so time just crawls past. And it is a Friday which slows things down immensely. I’m not complaining. I was busy enough all week so this quietude is welcomed, just not as appreciated as it should be.

Hurricane Isias is expected and put the kibosh on the Sunday bike ride.

Photo is of a turnstile jumper

Thursday again. I was feeling comfortable in the belly of the fruit stand, perhaps too comfortable. I think the bloom is coming off the rose. People are edgy and it does not suit me well. I can’t help but react to how people present themselves to me. If they’re arrogant then I might have an aura of arrogance thrown back at them.

Today there was a fruit stand worker, with an air of European arrogance. I helped him out yesterday and today was the same problem. I’m sure the problem lies with him and his methods of receiving texts and emails, but he seemed to be shifting it onto us or more specifically, me.

He applied for a permanent pass on Monday and we tell them it might take a week or two though more than likely it is just a few days. It covers our butt somewhat and is supposed to provide relief but this malaka wanted to know why it was taking so long despite informing them that the task is in someone else’s hands.

Then there is the attitude of the pretzel woman, who slithers past. I focus on the fruit stand computer, determined to not have any eye contact with them. I’m old enough to be her abuelo. There is another person, used to be friendly but now not so much. They used my shoulder to cry on a few months ago when they had boyfriend issues.

She has a list of three names that she needed printed out. I just scanned the email, not seeing the names just figuring it was her signature and of course, after the fact that is what I actually read. Technically, she could have just kept it on her phone, and no one would be the wiser, but that is not where we are at right now.

I feel like I have egg on my face. I could be making more out of it than necessary, as I am prone to do.

Leon Bridges was here. I would have liked to meet him or shake his hand since I do enjoy his music. Alas, his arrival was in the hands of someone else that I have mentioned before. And it was during my lunch break, and working alongside Violet, she needed to go on break when I would’ve liked to go.

Her reason was medical related so of course, I deferred. I think she is back from her break and working her corner of the fruit stand in the belly since the phone rang and it was immediately answered.

I am supposed to be back at my little fruit stand tomorrow and all signs point to that being true. Earlier this week I had mentioned that I was ok with being here more often. The anxiety I had has lessened. I don’t have a say in the matter so wherever they want to send me, that is where I will go. And today has been the more awkwardly day of the four that I’ve had in the belly of the fruit stand.

Silly me, I took a request with a spreadsheet attached, thinking it would be a couple of dozen names, but when I looked at it, it was over 200 names. I soldiered on, finding a groove, losing the groove, taking a break, and a few hours later finished the task in front of me.

Also had some banana pudding, which was a nice late afternoon treat. It had been quite a while since I last had banana pudding, which was possibly famously made by Rome Neal. I can’t compare the two so I would call it a tie.