Sunday. Easter Sunday. Easter stopped meaning anything to me about 23 years ago or so. I remember doing acid across the street from the White House with Jet and Billie on the way to some club in 1984. It was an event to my mother since it was the first time I decided not to participate in the traditional dyeing of the eggs. It was also the first time I spent the night with someone. That was fun yet turned odd when I literally saw a swastika hanging in his closet. I soon left there the next morning. Some right wing trust fund character from Texas. He was going to get married somewhere down the line so he can get the rest of his trust find. Travis was his name I think. Also a member of the Heritage Foundation.
That’s an Easter memory. The other Easter memory is going to a CBGB’s matinée to see Let’s Active (Mitch Easter’s band) and stumbling upon Richard Barone and someone else thisclose to each others lips. Last night Juan came over and we watched the Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros dvd, Let’s Rock Again. Juan remarked what a nice guy Joe Strummer seemed to be and I had to agree. It was good to watch it again and I’ll probably lend it to my brother Frank when I seem him again. The Arcade Fire at Radio City which is now only a few weeks away. After the Joe Strummer dvd we watched an episode of the Sopranos
Bill came home after Juan left, around midnight. I stayed up and listened to Bill talk about the evening’s performance which was a benefit at a hundred dollars a pop. It seemed to have gone well and it was good to see that Bill listened to my advice and shaved his beard. Bill was up early this morning since it was Easter, I think he wanted to get a head start on his church’s Easter egg hunt. I went out and got the bagels and the papers. I figured that Julio wasn’t going to though I did keep an eye out for him when I was on the boulevard.
I also went to the supermarket and bought whatever things I thought I might need. I came home and put the Post and the bagels in a separate bag and hung it on Julio and Stine’s door. By the time I got to my apartment, my cell phone rang. It was Julio who was out and just bought me the papers and the bagels. So now I have double the amount which was actually ok, though I really don’t need 2 New York Posts. One is more than is necessary.
Had a nice breakfast and decided to watch Who Killed the Electric Car. A documentary directed by a friend of Rand’s, Chris Paine. I met Chris a few times and crashed on his floor in San Francisco in the eighties. Though I rented it out of familiarity, I really enjoyed it more than I thought I would have. Just another documentary about how this country, or even this world is run by the military industrial complex and big oil which is under the protection of the complex. I also watched, Why We Fight the other day which is also recommended.
As I was about to take a walk I surfed through the channels and found the very good James Baldwin documentary on American Masters, The Price of the Ticket. I’ve seen it a few times and it is still inspiring and woefully unavailable on dvd. And we’ve been having some snow flurries today.