I have been here a little over 3 hours at the fruit stand, and I swear I have been here for about eight hours. It just feels that way. Fridays are generally slow, and today, being a Friday, lives up to that slowness. Bill is way down south, Mike is in my apartment, probably shooting videos or taking pictures.

It is a sunny day, which is an unusual occurrence lately. It’s been cold and damn the past week or so. Some days it’s cold, some days it’s damp. It’s the last Friday of the month of April in 2026. Yancy usually has a neeting scheduled at the main fruit stand but he mentioned on Wednesday he was thinking about cancelling it this month, and I asked him about it yesterday, and it served as a reminder to cancel said meeting.

For the past few months I have used the meeting to my advantage and getting a little more sleep in the morning since the meeting don’t start until 9 AM. That means I would leave my apartment at 8 AM instead of 7 AM. But my sanity was more important this week and after yesterday’s conscientious fiasco it was all for the best.

This weekend seems to be promised as a bit of a downer. Saturday is supposed to be a rainy day all day. And Sunday is supposed to be a bit colder than usual. Bill should be back on Wednesday though he says Tuesday I think I know better. He would be hesitant to agree but where Bill is good with being on the road and following a schedule, when it comes to me there is no schedule for Bill. He does what he does and I take his predicvtions with a grain of salt.

It is now almost 4 hours that I have been here and it feels like it is time to go home but I am getting ahead of myself by about 5 hours. Maybe 4 hours since I do intend on taking my lunch hour.

The lunch hour has passed. I am back at the ‘oh so quiet ‘ desk. I finally got in touch with Mike. He claimed to be napping which might make sense since he was up until 3:30 AM doing whatever it is that he does.

Videos, photos, men from around the world. I suppose he can’t resist the eyeballs on his profiles, his cigar smoking videos and of course that cock of his.
I fear that he might be getting used to not working and he’s going to have to get a job. It was difficult last year getting him a job or at least an interview. So, I am hesitant this year.

I was hoping to finish writing this on the tablet but I cannot so I am doing this on my phone. It is so quiet here; it is so slow nothing is happening. Generally it’s okay, sometimes it’s unnerving, and right now it’s a little bit unnerving.

Presently I am listening to a podcast called “off the record – on the charts” which features Joe Mardin, Adam Dorn, and Dana Dowd, the children of Arif Mardin, Joel Dorn and Tom Dowd. Right now they’re interviewing Paul Wexler, son of Jerry.

Legendary Atlantic Records producers. I’m fascinated by what I am hearing, especially since the producer fathers are no longer with us.

Around the corner from the fruit stand is a Catholic boys high school. I see a few boys riding the PATH train from Hoboken in the morning. I suppose there are boys from Jersey City as well. I looked up the yearly tuition for this Catholic high school and it’s $26000.00. 46 years ago the tuition for Paramus Catholic was $1000.00. I know this because of my father yelling at me as he hit me regarding a bad report card.

I need to remember to not listen to the first voice in my head when I wake up in the morning. This morning after a restless night, I emailed when I woke up that I was not feeling well. I sent it to Yancy and the counselor that set me up at the fruit stand.

Yancy was thankful and hoped that I would feel better. The counselor is on the west coast and was still asleep. Then I remembered I was participating in an LGBT panel for the agency this afternoon and had been preparing for it for a few weeks. I did not want to let them down.

I emailed that I would make it in after all, and Yancy advised against it. But my mind was made up, and I could not go back to sleep. I tried, I tossed, I turned but it was not going to happen so I made it to work 2 hours later than usual.

I showered and puttered about the apartment, Mike was sleeping. I effectively killed time between 8AM and 9AM. I walked up to Washington Street noticing more people out and about 2 hours that I usually see. The bagels were cooled so when I got mine, it was not a pile of greasy butter and dough which is what the bagels generally are when I get to my desk.

It is as quiet as I expected at the fruit stand. Whatever was going to happen happened yesterday. LGBT showtime is about an hour from now. Me and two other guys are talking heads regarding the March on Washington in April 1993. I’m sure it will go well. I am good at these things. Quick witted and off the cuff.

James Brown, 20 All Time Greatest Hits is playing. I admit I knew little about James Brown growing up. Perhaps it was really a case of ‘too black, too strong’. In the early 1980’s I bought a greatest hits compilation and that was more than likely my introduction. He wasn’t as sampled as he later became, and sampling hadn’t really occurred in 1982.

I did dub a cassette for my brother Frank. I missed James Brown at Skyline Studios in the 1990s by a few months. James Biondolillo told me all about the excitement of meeting the hardest working man in show business. As usual, I was late for the party. Time is crawling today. From food poisoning to mental health by way of Pepto Bismol I went to extraordinary lengths to show that I am a team player.

Also I did not want to take away any time from my personal time off routine. I reckon 2 hours might be better than 8 hours. Perhaps I was right. I don’t think I’ll know anything until the west coast wakes up and gets activated. Until then, here I am listening to James Brown’s Greatest HIts and watching the clock. After all it is a Thursday.

I’m on the street outside the fruit stand. I just participated in the LGBT panel discussion regarding the March on Washington on April 25th 1993. I was engaging, honest, open, and much to my surprise a little bit emotional.

Mainly about including people of color in the LGBT diaspora and how sometimes they are left out and it’s up to us to be more inclusive. How we have to keep fighting day by day sometimes hour by hour against people that would rather us not being around.

I think my emotions startled some people and it was a crowd of people from around the world so who knows where that will go if it goes anywhere? I am glad I have done it and will do it again if need be.