It’s a great day; quite a bit of rain last night. It’s needed as we are in a drought. The grass in Liberty State Park was yellowing, and with this batch of rain, it may be green again. I won’t know since this weekend I will not be bicycling.

My sister is flying into town for 7 days. She’ll be here tomorrow and leave next Wednesday. My brother Brian might miss her completely as he is in Colorado tending to his son, Brian, who was in a motorcycle accident in May and did not look after himself, and now has issues regarding blood clots.

Brian 2 listened to his mother and went to the emergency room, and he’s been in the hospital ever since. Brian 1 flew there at the last minute and needed a ride share to get from Denver to Boulder, which I believe is about 30 miles and that more than likely cost a bit of money. Our niece Corrinne is dog-sitting in that area so last night she was able to help him out as much as possible.

Summer depression is no fun. I can feel its edges nearby. Usually at lunch, when I am just sitting outside enjoying a cigar, I get waylaid by existential questions, and those are never easy to deal with. If I were going to feel those feelings, I would rather do it at home.

Over the weekend, there were some ill feelings between Bill and myself. Bill had a tooth extraction and was prescribed antibiotics. Bill likes yogurt, which is probiotic. I remembered when I was on antibiotics for something or another, and my sister advised me to have yogurt for the probiotics.

I thought one could not enjoy yogurt while on antibiotics. I suggested Bill look it up, but on the way home from the supermarket, we stopped off at the chain store pharmacy where Bill asked the person behind the counter about antibiotics and probiotics. They reassured Bill, and Bill told me that it would be OK.

I still suggested getting a second opinion, and that upset Bill so much he got bratty, and getting bratty shut me down. That created a few hours of noncommunication between us and was very uncomfortable. I tried to take a nap but was too stressed.

I did talk to my sister, who told me that yogurt and antibiotics were alright to mix. So I was wrong. A twist of the knife was that Bill had back problems a few weeks ago and I always asked about it, making suggestions when possible. And now the tooth extraction had me looking after Bill even more.

The thing is, a few weeks ago, there was a mark on my face about the size of a quarter. I told Bill about it, and he listened and never asked about it, whereas I’m the idiot motherfucker asking about his tooth or his back.

After sitting on my front steps smoking a cigar, I went back upstairs where things had gotten quite frosty. I made dinner and asked if he could eat that with his tooth and all, and he couldn’t. We did have a talk, and he resented me not trusting him and thinking he was a moron.

I told him I did not think he was a moron. I did think he was incapable of returning care, though. I told him about the thing on my face that I have been managing, and it’s almost gone, and that I’m looking out for him, but he couldn’t be bothered to look out for me.

Only child syndrome, perhaps. Things did resolve. And things are better; he is actually making a show of looking at my face, and I need to tell him he is looking at the wrong side of my face. He is making an effort, and we shall see how long that lasts.

The fruit stand is having an off site event on Thursday. I am reluctant since my sister arrives tomorrow. Then again, I probably won’t see her until Friday so I guess it will all work out. I have sent my info in that I will be a team player and attending this soirée for what it’s worth

Ann Grauso passed way. She and her family lived a few doors down from my family growing up on Riverview Avenue back in the day. I can’t say I knew her, I barely knew her kids. They were older than me and would not want to have anything to do with kids 5 years younger than them.

I couldn’t blame them. I was just struck by a melancholy thought. How things were easier and simpler back then. Nothing to worry about except to get home when the street lights came on, and during the summer that was around 9 PM. Just about all the adults from back then have passed on.

Ann Grausso might have been the last one. Some of their children have passed on, Susan Lucas, Jimmy Grant, Jimmy Williams, Suzanne Williams, my brother Frank, Dorothy Foglio, and Audrey Iwanicki.

I’m sure there are some that slipped past my radar. My world was so much smaller then. I never considered how much it would expand. Then again I never thought I would move from that neighborhood. I never considered that I was desperately want to get out of there.

There is no going back. That world has changed very much. Still recognizable but the residents have changed. I believe the only one left is the heinous Natale named Debbie. She was awful back then and more than likely her awfulness has intensified.

In other news, Clive Davis has passed away. He was 94 and had been cicrling the drain for a few weeks now. I worked for him at Arista Records at 6 West 57th St, a building that no longer exists. I was told he was not easy to work alongside.

He was prone to throwing items at his staff during his Thursday morning meetings. I worked for a woman, Suzanne Savage who worked directly for him as the chief A&R Administrator.

She, too was known to throw items at her staff though not at me since I was at a difficult angle to throw things at. After I left the music business and worked in the corporate world in my then fetish of suits and ties, I was invited to a holiday party where I was told I had Clive’s attention.

I found that out after I shook his hand, thanking him for the wonderful holiday party. That world is gone now, the buildings are gone now, and Clive Davis, perhaps the last of the legendary record men of the second half of the twentieth century is gone now.

I sent a direct message to Miriam who responded with a sad emoji. That world is just a memory and now I am at the fruit stand. Miriam and I have a mutual friend in Corey Williams who is in that world of the music business and seems to be doing alright for himself.

After Meta killed off two of my accounts, I tried to reconnect with Corey Williams but it seems fruitless. He is in a position where he more than likely has thousands of people trying to contact and befriend him in one way or another.