Monthly Archives: May 2006

Dub

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Blogarama! Same bat time, same bat channel. Didn’t have too good a day at work. It was Friday and it was my thirteenth day, so it was Friday the Thirteenth in some way. Yeah, that must be why. Maybe it was my last day of feeling apart from most everyone that works there and I am apart physically. I am about 100 feet away from everyone else. I only see them coming and going, no one lingers. I’m sure I can find an advantage in that.

Today was also Cinco de Mayo. A celebration of all that is Mexican. I’m fine with that, though I was surprised to see so many people lining up outside of bars. St. Patrick’s Day from south of the border. I don’t feel much like celebrating and Bill is out of sorts as well. Juan was supposed to come over tonight but he was thinking later, I was thinking sooner and with the mood of Bill and I, it would probably be best if we hung out tomorrow night instead.

Juan was cool with that because Juan is cool.

So we are just chilling tonight really on the down low, listening to music and not even thinking about watching Law and Order or anything else on TV. Maybe Bill Maher, but we can catch the rebroadcast. A good night’s sleep would be so nice. Now twenty years ago it was a different story. Ten years ago it was a different story. I loved the nightlife, I got to boogie. Actually just partied a lot, not much boogying was involved.

Now I sit at home, doing laundry and listening to the Buena Vista Social Club cd. Not an homage to Cinco de Mayo, they’re Cubanos. I do have a Selena track somewhere, a duet with David Byrne. She was Mexican. But now I’m playing Nothing from Nothing by Billy Preston. Trying to get Bill out of his doldrums would certainly help lift me out of mine. Now Beny More with the Rafael de la Paz Orchestra. Next up, Andre 3000.

Love Hater. I’ve just discovered Speakerboxx/The Love Below by Outkast. I’ve only played Andre’s cd. Haven’t got to Big Boi’s disc yet. Andre’s is so good.

It’s really been and up and down day. Trying to get up somehow. Bill just went to bed and it’s 9:30. Dos Viejo’s! But when you’ve made it this far and it really ain’t all that far at all, we’re entitled to moments in which we do nothing but crash. It ain’t easy carrying the world on your shoulders. Like I would know….

I’m as mellow as I could be. Now playing Laraaji, Meditation. Picked it out because it’s almost twenty minutes long and I won’t have to think about much of anything during that time. I guess it’s like, meditation. Duh.

Tomorrow I’m going to East Harlem with Bill to jam with his friend Tom from work. I have to bring my guitar. It should be interesting. I suggested it because Bill once jammed with him and it didn’t really work. So I offered my talent for playing guitar to perhaps provide impetus. I also thought I was Brian Eno.

The Joker

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The day didn’t start out so good. Rather the commute didn’t. I couldn’t find my Path Quick fare card and I think I might’ve left it at the turnstile like a dodo. No wonder they went extinct. They lost their Quick fare cards at the turnstiles. So I had to pay for a one way trip and waited for a second for it to be returned to me from the turnstile. Dodo redo.

The day was ok otherwise. A glitch here, a glitch there, but nothing out of hand and they were easily remedied. The most major thing was the fact that a decanter broke when I was filling it with coffee to put in the refrigerator. It went crack and promptly spilled lukewarm coffee all over the counter. So it looks like I’ll have to buy the replacement. Felicia was out of the office. She reminds me of Brenda from Six Feet under a bit. Maybe not, it was fleeting thought.

I had an appointment to meet up with an old Rasta pal, Jesse in midtown and jumped on the subway. On the way to see Jesse I ran into another old Rasta pal, my friend Marcus’ woman, Marcia. She hasn’t been in town much but picked me out of the crowd. We always got along fine Marcia and I. I used to bring her hot chocolate if it was cold out or water if it was hot, when I worked at Wanker Banker. It was generally appreciated by both parties, Marcia and myself.

I walked through Bryant Park, talking about Marcus and his brothers, Clarence, Kenneth and Jamal. I knew them all fairly well. I don’t know if they knew me very well. Sexuality never came up. The brothers stayed in one apartment, Marcus in one of a few crash pads that he had. I ate dinner at the brother’s apartment a few times, all Ital food. No blood food. Very good stuff. The three of them were all good cooks.

I’d usually catch a train back to Manhattan and then a dollar van to Weehawken, all red eyed and reeking. I was oblivious, just coming back from a party. It was great to see Marcia. She and Marcus split up and she seems to be doing fine. My friend Miriam and I can’t seem to figure out how old Marcus is. She claims that he’s fairly older than us, since he has gnarly bony hands. Sure, why not?

Hello AARP Mon.

I found some Gauloises in midtown after I saw Marcia I visited a store I used to buy my Gauloises from. I chatted with the guy behind the counter. The guy who I’ve spoken to and seen for years and never got his name, nor he mine. He didn’t have Gauloises but said the guy around the corner with a store just like his, has them. They might be old, but he’s got ‘em. I walked over there and sure enough there was the familiar blue pouches offering comfort and unmentionable things.

I snapped them up… like someone snaps up a dropped Quick card.

I then walked back to the other guy who sent me there and thanked him for the tip. Walked the route I used to walk hundreds of times to the Path train. Had to buy another Quick card.

Tried to work it out with Transit check but it was a fiasco that is unresolved until 8:00 tomorrow morning.