Man I couldn’t wake up this morning. Perhaps too many jazz cigarettes last night. There’s an unease between Bill and myself lately. I need to keep reminding him to communicate. And it’s an odd thing to say to someone who usually has a lot to say. He claims to be embarrassed by talking about some things, embarrassed in front of the one person on the planet whom he shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of.
Yesterday I was hoping that we could spend some nice quality time together, hell, I would’ve gone to Tekserve with him if he had asked. He was there most of the afternoon, in the audio department playing a piano. Nice. Would have liked to have seen that. Would’ve been nice to walk around the city, even Chelsea with him. But I wasn’t asked.
The summer has a lot of fun things happening this summer and I plan on going to these shows with various friends, or even going alone. Tomorrow night, there is a show at the World Financial Center featuring the Eels. I’ve heard some good things about them, and the singer E, smokes cigars onstage, which should give me liberty to smoke a cigar in the audience while watching the show. It’s something to do, its outdoors and it’s free. This weekend Teddy Thompson will be at Summerstage and he falls in with the Wainwright crowd, Rufus and Martha. Teddy is the child of Richard and Linda Thompson. He’s sung a duet with Rufus on the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack, King of the Road.
Talented children from broken homes. Oh why wasn’t my house broken? Why wasn’t I house broken?
Work was ok, walked down Hudson listening to selections from the Beatles Anthology discs. Songs that never made the cut, songs with one of the Fabs joking about before launching into a nearly adequate version of one of their hits. Some were understandably never released, only available to feverish collectors of all things Fab.
Got to the office, major big wigs in from the UK. Nice blokes they seem to be. Felicia returned from her four day weekend which didn’t seem to be much fun for her since she was the planner for a coworkers wedding. She’s not too keen on the coworker, and according to Felicia, this coworker has a habit of saying the wrong thing. Apparently the coworker made a comment about it being a good thing that Felicia had cancer since planning for the wedding would enable Felicia to devote her depleted energy to the event.
Felicia does seem to be rather cool and I found we both agree that some of the Brits that work in the office really have some snobbish aspects. It’s mainly two women, two slags as they’re called over there. It’s almost as if they have titanium rods up their arses, all the way to their stiff upper lips. We ran down mental lists of who in the office we like and who we don’t and our lists were almost identical. Granted, Felicia was on top of that list when I started, then she started falling lower on the list, eventually winding up off the list completely.
It’s a good thing I wrote the list with a mental pencil.
Felicia and I have made plans to check out Me’Shell Ndegeocello next week in Madison Square Park. You’re welcome to join us.