Finally Friday arrives right on schedule. Actually a little later than right on schedule but I’m not going to say anything about it. Bill spent the night at his folks again since it was a Thursday. A son has got to do what a son has got to do. I just watched TV, read Mojo, an article about Ahmet Ertegun, co-founder of Atlantic Records. Ahmet was one of the talking heads at Arif Mardin’s tribute the other night. He died not too long ago after falling backstage at a Rolling Stones concert at the Beacon Theater for Bill “I signed the Defense of Marriage Act” Clinton who had somehow turned 60.

I love my Mojo and Uncut magazines. I’ve been reading them for years, really top shelf writing that maybe pitchfork media sometimes aspires to in the states. I used to read Q Magazine exclusively but I got tired fast from about Oasis month after month after month. I think the tide is turning and from what I understand Oasis albums are piling up in used record bins throughout old Blighty. I think that’s really funny. The Gallagher brothers got paid, or at least Noel did. I saw Noel Gallagher once on 48th street when I worked at Right Track. A right short bloke he is.

As luck would have it I see Noel Gallagher and a few days later a friend of mine named Gian East saw D’Angelo, another shorty on 48th street. I much rather would have liked to see D’Angelo than Mr. Old Recycled Beatle Riffs. I would also like to see Gian East again, but it’s one of those events where I introduced a friend to Bill and then never saw my friend again. I think there was no problem with me being gay, just me being gay and going out with someone. That takes being gay from the abstract and makes them think about gay sex more than most gay people do. And since they find that repulsive, they’d rather not have anything to do with me after that.

Another fair weather friend went by the name of Kevin McBean. Kevin walked into Right Track one day, totally unannounced looking for a job. He had a nice smile, quite handsome. His resume looked like it was written on tissue paper though and me, being Mr. Nice Guy took it upon myself to retype it and submit it on his behalf. Really, it was done purely out of the goodness of my heart. I knew Kevin was straight and so did Kevin. It was actually one of the few things he actually knew. That, and impregnating women.

One night, while hanging out with Kevin in a bar in midtown I was relatively walking on air due to Bill giving me a ring in front of my family and friends. I explained to Kevin my state of mind as we had a few pints and I smoked a Padron. This was before the anti smoking laws went into effect, mind you. The plan was for Kevin to hang out for a few hours but since I had just come out of the closet in such a positive manner, Kevin suddenly found an excuse to leave. He didn’t just leave the bar though, he left our friendship. He’s a good bass player but has lousy taste in bands to play with. He’s probably playing in some dive, sponging off women.

I suppose I’m better off without ‘friends’ like those two. I’m sure that I am.