God damn it I’ve been waking up at 5:00 in the morning the past two days. Not fun. And with the neck being what it is, getting back to sleep is no easy task. It’s getting pretty bad back there and tomorrow I have an appointment with Bill’s chiropractor. She’s going to treat me, make some adjustments and then bill me when the insurance kicks in. I hope it works. I bought a pillow and a new computer chair, or rather a chair that I sit on in front of the computer, so that it might alleviate the neck problem. But it hasn’t. So it’s the chiropractor, after that, Lourdes.

It could be a Macanudo problem, as Julio has been so fond of saying, regarding my Mac experiences. Different heights of desks for computers that I sit at most of the day, like now. And all for you dear reader, whoever you might be. I write this for you. I hope you are grateful. You’d better be.

No, that’s the neck talking. Sorry. And all the good drugs with muscle relaxers that I should take, I can’t because they have affiliations with codeine and I’m allergic to that. Back in the day, while living at my parents house, I had some dental work done and was prescribed Tylenol 3 which has a little bit of codeine in it. I took two before I went to sleep and a few hours later woke up having great difficulty breathing. I went down to my parent’s bedroom and woke up my mother telling her I couldn’t breathe.

My mother thought I was having a heart attack. For some reason we didn’t call for an ambulance and I lay on the couch while my mother asked me from her chair if I was having any pains shooting down my arm. I told her I wasn’t and she felt relieved enough to have a cigarette, which promptly took all the oxygen out of the room. I yelled to her to put it out and she obliged. I think I just slept there all night with my mother a few feet behind me.

So codeine is out which sucks because Bill has Vicodin and it’s available but I did the research and felt anaphylactic shock is not the best way to relieve a pinched nerve. A little too extreme if you ask me. And 4 out of 5 doctors agree. Watch out for that one doctor though.

Juan is here, we’re hanging out. He’s reading the British music magazines, Mojo and Uncut while watching Batman Begins on HBO. Good to have company since Bill is at his parents tonight. Julio is doing last minute cleaning so Mrs. Stine Lopez would have a nice home to come home to. He’s pretty much excited. We all are. I expect to be drafted into helping out cleaning the backyard. I don’t mind at all. Everyone wins. Especially the cats and there are plenty of them, last time we counted there were over a dozen. Want one?

Last night the Sopranos was very good. Very powerful. Both the Sopranos and Big Love were on top of their game. Spoiler alert: Vito got killed quite brutally because he was gay. It was sad, but he couldn’t stay away from the life of the mob. He screamed for his life through duct tape. Big Love was as frantic as ever with the wives writing up their wills, Bill being offered a membership with a Kiwanis type merchants guild, and Roman’s grip getting tighter and tighter. Then there’s Roman’s 14 year old bride to be living with Bill and Barb’s family.

Nicki, played by Chloe Sevigny reminds me so much of a girl I grew up with, Barbara Williams. I thought the Williams family were the coolest when I was growing up. So hip and modern it seemed. They could almost be Cowsills that’s how cool I thought they were. Marge and Ed Williams had Jimmy, Suzanne, Barbara and Scott at 7 Riverview Avenue as well as Richie who was Marge’s flamboyant brother and Nanny who was Ed’s mother. My brother Frank was Jimmy’s age, Suzanne was my brother Brian’s age and Barbara and Scott were closer to my age. The Williams didn’t have any offspring that was Annemarie’s age.

My family and the Williams’ got along just fine. Back then the neighborhood I grew up with was much closer knit that most neighborhoods today. Kids were always running in and out of each other’s houses. Most parents and adults looked after children that weren’t their own. If I did something at the Williams’ house, you can be sure my parents would hear about it in no time.

There used to be neighborhood barbecues thrown by Phil and Betty Janowski. They had a gigantic pool it seemed to my 5 year old eyes. One time after a raucous day of swimming and running around like maniacs, Barbara and I were roasting marshmallows when someone called my name. Instead of merely turning my head I turned my whole body and the flaming marshmallow on a stick went right onto Barbara’s arm. She screamed. I screamed it was an accident. The very next week Barbara did the exact same thing to me, as if to say, ‘see how you like it!’ Good times.

Barbara discovered boys and wound up going out with a Neanderthal sociopath Brian Palladino who once beat me up while I was enrolled in Summer Recreation soon after I almost burned my parents’ house down. She eventually married Brian. I wound up hanging out with Barbara’s brother Scott a lot more at that time. No marshmallows were burned. We did play with firecrackers when we could get them for the Fourth of July. We also engaged in petty larceny like shoplifting dog collars and blank Memorex cassettes from Two Guys department store.

Time went on, I started driving and Scott joined the Marines. I saw him just before we really parted ways at the funeral of his grandmother, Nanny. I eventually found out that the rosy picture I saw of the Williams’ family was just a façade. They were just as fucked up as any other family, perhaps more so. I was there when Marge tore into her son Jimmy who was visiting and arrived stoned. I saw the fallout of Ed and Marge’s divorce. They were good people though. I remember my brother Brian and I calling Marge to come over because Annemarie stepped on a lead pencil and we were sure she was going to die of lead poisoning. I also remember seeing Ed when he was a security guard at the Garden State Plaza and rousting all the homos from the Public Bathroom. I walked by him hoping he was as stupid as I had heard and wouldn’t recognize the kid who lived next door. To his credit, I don’t think he said anything about it to anyone.

I last saw the Williams’ family at Marge’s wake. I saw Barbara, Scott and the once pretty Suzanne who was now bloated from alcohol abuse. Ed had died and Jimmy had passed away as well. Now it was just the three kids, and their flamboyant Uncle Richie. An Aunt Joanie was there, Marge’s sister in law, who hadn’t aged one day. Still looked the same. These days when I hear of the neighborhood that I grew up in, it’s usually because someone died.