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.

It’s Thursday again. It’s been a hell of a week. Bill and I have been getting along fine lately, though his back is messed up and he hasn’t been to see the chiropractor yet due to the financial squeeze we both find ourselves in. Friday is when he’s planning on going. He is also in a new, different play which should be presented at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. It was written by his friend, Rome Neal who is the star of the one man show about Thelonius Monk called, Monk. Bill is making sure I will be at opening night, though with his back acting up, will he be at opening night?

Woke up as usual and did the routine and was out the door. It was a nice 27 degrees and not as windy as it’s been. I returned a book in the deposit box at the library and walked up to Washington Street where a bus just pulled up. I ran through the traffic and got midway to the door of the bus when it pulled away despite my hitting the side of the bus with my gloved hand. I know the driver heard it because he hesitated but then he kept on going.

I was pissed and because the idiot was in a rush to get to the next traffic light I was going to be a bit late for work. I caught another bus a few minutes later and sat down, pulling out ‘Claudius the King’, Robert Graves’ sequel to ‘I, Claudius’. So far it’s been about Herod Agrippa and his being raised in Rome in the palace of Augustus. Not as good a read so far but I’m sure it will get better. I walked to the office and got to work 5 minutes late. I sat at my computer and sent a complaint to NJ Transit about the douche bag bus driver. Hey, I am paying his salary and they can’t all be as dedicated to driving a bus like Bill is.

I told Bill about it and he gave me the lowdown about how to properly file a complaint with NJ Transit. Rule #1, no big words. Work was all about data entry which was a change from proofreading a website for the past two days. That was tedious because in one hand I had a pile of notes for the website designer from the past few weeks, most of them repeated suggestions and requests. Such bad grammar and punctuation. Not the designer’s fault. Mainly it was Naomi and Wally.

I did get an email from Mindy one of the headhunters I communicated with the other day. I like where I’m at now, but the money isn’t there. It sucks because I’m feeling comfortable with the people I work with and I think they’re getting comfortable with me. The job Mindy was suggesting was a better paying job but with a 7:00AM start time. Can I do that? I’m sure I could. It would be difficult at first, but I’d be missing the rush hour by an hour. I don’t go out anymore, I just stay home so it’s not like I’d be missing any sort of social life. I did express an interest though. I hate this decision making. If only there was a decider.

An interesting event on the web the past few days. I’m sure you all heard Ann ‘Why the long face’ Coulter’s fag comment about John Edwards. One of the other conservative speakers was a Cpl. Matt Sanchez who is a 38 year old Columbia student who says he was verbally assaulted by the International Socialist student group. This made him the darling of Bill O’Reilly, with Sanchez receiving an award named for Jeanne Kirkpatrick. It turns out that in a Jeff Gannon-esque way, Cpl. Matt Sanchez is a gay porn actor.

Here’s a link about it. cut n’ paste time
http://joemygod.blogspot.com/2007/03/jeff-gannon-redux.html

here’s a more sexplicit link
http://tombacchus.blogspot.com/2007/03/dirty-sanchez.html

and for good measure, here’s Pierre LaBranche…I mean Rod Majors…I mean USMC Cpl. Matt Sanchez’s blog.
http://mattsanchez.blogspot.com/

see? I can be fair and balanced. Give me a job at Fox. I’m better looking than Alan Colmes.