January has finally arrived. It is cold, but the air is clean. It was a bright sunny day. Bill spent last night at his folks and I had the bed all to myself. And like the Police song, ‘The Bed’s Too Big Without You’, it’s true, it is. And it’s really a small bed for two fully-grown men like Bill and myself.
Can’t believe I quoted the Police.
Walked to work, wind at my back like the old Irish blessing, listening to Cocteau Twins’ ‘Treasure’. A pure Jet record. Jet was heavy into the Cocktail Shrimp as he liked to call them and also enamored of their label 4AD. So much so that he bought a ton of 4AD records when he was working at Tower Records and really used that employee discount as well as the five finger type.
I stopped by 4 Times Square to drop off Bill’s Ipod. That proved to be more difficult than dropping off his Thomas Pink shirt on a hanger. Was given a slight runaround by security when I saw Bill’s friend Tom who is another security guard. He had no problem holding the Ipod until Bill arrived.
Wandered to work, listening to the Cocteaus’, thinking about how I met them briefly at McSwells when Stan had them over for some drinks years ago. Stan was good friends with the three twins and brought them to Hoboken. It turned into a low key jockeying for Liz/Robin/Simon’s attention. Who can outwit who and get a word in to one of the three.
I met Stan through Dave Bell who was friends with my brother Brian. Christmas night 1979 Dave and I were going to see ‘Neighbors’ and we picked up Stan. I was playing Wire ‘154’ that my brother Frank had given me. I didn’t know who they were but I liked what I had heard. At least side one. It took me awhile to finally flip the record, like a few months. On the way home, Stan noticed what I was playing. He was the first person that knew who Wire was. He knew more than I did.
We bonded. Stan was one of the wittiest people around. Spent many hours riffing with him, fast repartee. Don’t see him as much as I used to, maybe once every other year. Last time was at Gang of Four in May 2005. I guess that’s how we’ll cross paths in the future, at old Post Punk reunion tours. Our Woodstock in black.
Work has been ridiculously lightweight lately. I’m busy, but not letting the proctological delights bother me so much. I had an interview today, around the block from where I work. A law firm, I think I aced the first part of the interview, the second interview, perhaps not as good. The Ozed charm didn’t go as far the second time. We’ll see.
Like I said, Wanker Banker hasn’t been as painful for me though not much has changed. It’s my attitude that has changed. It was weird being around the block and seeing the neighborhood where I spend most days from literally, a different perspective. I could see into my office a few stories higher and hoped that no one looked out the window with binoculars…
Not that they would, not during the daytime at least.
Caught up with Bill afterwork and there was drama but progress is being made since we’re able to talk about what the fuck is bothering us to put it bluntly. What was originally a walk to the Path station turned into standing outside of Madison Square Garden for almost an hour. Intense talking, no solutions but a strong will get through it together. The Billy Joel fans started to trickle in and Bill had to get to his cousin’s in the Bronx, and I wanted to get home. Listened to Elvis Costello and the Attractions, ‘Get Happy!!’ Perfect.
It’s bananas, but luckily we like bananas. Start conclusion drawing….NOW.