Monthly Archives: May 2007

One More Time

It’s back to work again. I didn’t mind though things got better for me yesterday with Julio and Stine and Juan. Julio who knows me well enough for the past 20 or so years, knew what he had to do. He and Stine had me over for burgers last night for diner and I hung out with them for a few hours, talking about how Frank is, how I am, and how Julio dealt with his father’s passing a few years ago. It was a good talk for me and I guess for Julio. Julio also hit the nail on the head, which was the fact that I was feeling so badly about Frank because of the guilt of having my meltdown at the Arcade Fire show.

That was true and I also heard the same thing from Juan who didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. Of course, Julio has 20 years of dealing with me under his belt (same with Pedro, they both worry about me and know that something is up when they speak to me on the phone), so Julio can come right out and say it. Juan was a little more cautious which is understandable. Juan made me a cd of songs that he knew I would like or at least be interested in and he was right on the money with that. Don’t know if there’s any messages in what he burned for me but it definitely sounds great on the iPod walking to and from work.

Bill was at his folks last night because his father had an MRI to be performed at the VA hospital. So that meant I was sleeping alone after Juan split. I slept really well despite waking up at 4:00. That was no problem as I went right back to sleep, awaking once again before the alarm clock. I did eventually get out of bed, showered, shaved and had some cereal and was out the door, headed to the bus. Got into the city in no time, and I listened to the Black Keys singing She Said, She Said which is an admirable cover and despite what Juan says, is not better than the Fabs version, and I’m sure he knows that deep down.

Got to work after listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as I took a short cut through Grand Central Station. It provided a great soundtrack to the visual of the morning hustle and bustle of commuters going to their offices. Almost as good as that scene in the Fisher King, though I really couldn’t tell you what role I would have played, but I’m sure I would have been dancing. Everyone at work caught up with what they did over the weekend and then they asked me how Frank was doing. I told them what I knew without giving too much away, don’t want to turn into Debbie Downer. After that, the day ended fast enough and I walked to the bus terminal, smoking a Padron 5000 and listening to Coco Rosie which is another track from the cd and so far, my favorite.

Check This Out
cut and paste
http://gristmill.grist.org/story/2007/5/28/123944/992

The War Prayer by Mark Twain

from jockohomo
War Prayer Face of the Dead
May 28th, 2007 | Category: warriors, usmc, war

Compelling animated video of Mark Twain’s War Prayer posted on The Grist. The short story is a scathing indictment of war, and particularly of blind patriotic and religious fervor as motivations for war. A Wikipedia entry notes “The piece was left unpublished by Mark Twain at his death, largely due to pressure from his family, who feared that the story would be considered sacrilegious. Twain’s publisher and other friends also discouraged him from publishing it. Twain instructed for it to be published after his death, however, and is said to have quipped ‘I don’t think the prayer will be published in my time. None but the dead are permitted to tell the truth.’

Not that anyone is ALLOWED to put a face on the dead siting the military’s coercive and unworkable 11(a) of IAW Change 3, DoD Directive 5122.5: “Names, video, identifiable written/oral descriptions or identifiable photographs of wounded service members will not be released without the service member’s prior written consent.” This means that memorials for those courageous that have lost their lives in Iraq can no longer be shown, even when the unit in question invites coverage.

Photograph

It’s hot out. I just walked up to Washington Street after blowing off Julio and Stine for a bike ride. Not that I didn’t want to go, but wasn’t sure if I wanted to go with them. Something about being a third wheel, and Bill doesn’t have a bike and even if he did, odds are he wouldn’t be riding it. I certainly didn’t want to go to dismal Liberty State Park, amongst the trash and garbage dumps. Just a drag really. I am still thinking about going riding, perhaps into the city, but having to deal with the crowds that accumulate at 42nd Street for Fleet Week is something I don’t want to do. Just read an article in todays Times Online about strokes. Scary stuff indeed.

Bill and I aren’t speaking for some reason. No bad feelings I think. Makes me uncomfortable. Let’s see, uncomfortable riding bikes with Julio and Stine, uncomfortable at home with Bill. I think about the only place I actually feel comfortable is visiting Frank in the hospital. That’s not a good frame of mind to be in. All in all, a really crappy Memorial Day weekend which is making me look forward to going to work tomorrow. I know I don’t feel uncomfortable there. It’s something to do and keeps me out of trouble most of the time.

A nice breeze wafts in through the open window to my left. No breezes on the street, only through 5th floor open windows. Maybe I did do the right thing by staying at home. To add to the general weirdness at home, Bill is in the next room doing vocal exercises which consist of just sounds, not words running up and down scales. Doesn’t really qualify as conversation, which is just as well since I’m not really looking for any, anyhow. Just feel adrift from most of the people around me lately. Wish I could tell you why, but I really don’t know.

Yesterday it was from not eating which creates some ogre type feelings in me. After I ate I felt better but no one was really around to notice. I did enjoy sitting on the pier and reading yesterday, listening to Rufus Wainwright. Now I’m doing some laundry, because it’s something to do. Pathetic, isn’t it? A situation of my own doing, so I really can’t complain. I’m listening to old Scritti Politti. Only 25 years old actually.

The plan now is to go to the river after the laundry is done. Also writing this blog hours earlier than I usually do. I’m definitely seeing more into the non communication between me and Bill than there actually is. No motive on his part, just doesn’t have much to say, which in his case is strange because he’s always talking. Just not now. Recharging his batteries perhaps.

I watched Pan’s Labyrinth, which was good, but I wasn’t as knocked out as I thought I would have been. Once again the hype overpowered the actual viewing for me. I’d watch it again but I threw it in the mail already. Now I have Babel left and I’m sure that’s the laugh riot, feel good picture of the year. I’m moving to Stars Hollow.

New York Times link
Cut and paste

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/28/health/28stroke.html?ei=5070&en=6ac5c6d6c3326922&ex=1181016000&pagewanted=all