It’s Friday. Left work early today, things were slow, half the office was out on holiday. Just woke up from a nap. I had a dream that I was living in a house on the border of Hoboken and Weehawken, by the overpasses on Park and Willow Avenues. At one point in the dream I was riding my bicycle, then all of a sudden I was riding my skateboard, the orange Bigfoot skateboard that Annemarie gave me 31 years ago. I was better on the skateboard in the dream than I was in real life. A lot of people had gathered in the middle of the street watching someone named Peter in a fist fight with a small person, actually a midget. From the point of view I was at, looking up at the overpass, all I could see was Peter swinging wildly. I skated past a growing mob and headed towards a party where there was a DJ spinning records by my house. Some spreading puddles of greenish water encroaching. Then I woke up.

Today was truly a bittersweet day. Billie heads back to Washington DC tomorrow after training up in New York for six weeks. It was originally supposed to be for two weeks then three which was bumped up to six. It was great to have him around for so long. He certainly enjoyed Bill and my company and we definitely enjoyed his. I stopped by to see him for a bit this morning at his store, but the street was closed off for yet another steam pipe breaking. Not as bad as the steam pipe explosion last month, but unnerving nonetheless.

I had burned a few cd’s for him, including the Corinne Bailey Rae that Annemarie had burned for me. I think Corinne Bailey Rae will be the soundtrack for a bittersweet summer this year. I told Billie that it felt like summer was over when Annemarie, Rex and Earl went back to Arcata in July, but that having Billie around seemed like an extension of that feeling. Now that Billie is heading back home, that feeling of summer ending has returned. I offered to meet up with Billie tomorrow to see him off at the train station and it seemed like a good idea.

After I left work for the day I stopped by again to touch base, and Billie said it probably wouldn’t be a good idea since he would probably wind up crying at the station. Billie also said that the crew he was leaving in New York had been saying their goodbyes and it was making him emotional. We stood there and talked for a bit when I felt my bladder inching up towards my eyes. Billie was right in the fact that there would be two queens crying in the middle of Penn Station tomorrow, so we would be better off if I didn’t see him off. I’ve had many teary farewells at boarding gates in the past, one more wouldn’t be so bad, but I’ll respect his wishes. Maybe.

As I was napping, Bill called. The WNBA game is off tonight since Bill’s father isn’t doing so well. There were some problems this morning and Bill called me, telling me they were going to go to the stroke unit at Bellevue at the paramedic’s suggestion. If there isn’t a stroke then they will take him to the Veterans Administration hospital on 23rd street. Bill’s father is 83.

On a lighter note, speaking of being 83 as I was walking through Bryant Park this morning I noticed that the Mike Love and Bruce Johnston version of The Beach Boys were putting on a show for Good Morning America. Didn’t see the Cowsill that was supposed to be playing with them but here’s some snap shots illegaldress.

some security looking like his head is in Mike Love’s crotch.

If given a choice I would have chosen Bruce Johnston.

and here is a clip from a few years ago, the finale of Six Feet Under which added to today being bittersweet.

Thursday. Just got back from a really good movie. Bill, Billie and I finally got it together and made it to see Talk to Me, about a Washington DC DJ, Petey Greene. Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejifor are the leads with excellent support from Martin Sheen and Taraji P. Henson as the station owner and Petey’s girlfriend, Vernell Watson. I recommend it. Great soundtrack and costumes. A little picture that is crazy cool, and little or no jive. It was once again a wonderful night with wonderful company. Of course there’s always something that almost derailed our plan, and it wasn’t too good.

Last night Bill was at his folks as Juan and I hung out watching Gosford Park. Bill called midway through. He was worried about his father who wasn’t doing so well last night. Naturally I went into comfort mode, knowing the road that Bill is going to have to go down. I felt bad for Bill and offered whatever assistance he might need. He appreciated it and hung up as he was getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing I could do one this end except to finish the movie. I always had problems with Robert Altman’s films but this one I really enjoyed. Perhaps I should give his life’s work another chance.

Juan split and I soon wet to bed, sleeping fitfully. Woke up earlier than I should have, which sucked. Stumbling around the apartment, I was still able to get out and head to the bus on time. An easy ride, reading the New Yorker, only two weeks behind. This issue has the rain forest New York on the cover. So far so good though I’ve skipped the article on golf. A boring sport, to watch on TV and even more so to read about. No thanks on that one. That’s one benefit of being behind in reading the New Yorker. If something doesn’t grab me quickly, I usually don’t feel bad about moving on to the next article.

Work was ok. I was certainly busier than I was yesterday, meaning I actually did something, and that meant that the day went by a little bit faster. I made it over to Billie’s store for lunch where I actually paid for a expensive salad that tasted a little bit odd. I told Billie about it and he told me to come back tomorrow for a replacement salad. Billie goes back to Washington DC on Saturday so I’m trying to get as much time in with him before he leaves.

The movie was at 6:15 in Chelsea so strolled around the terribly humid midtown and then we had a quick little jazz diversion in Central Park which was even more humid. I was drenched when we made it down to the subway, feeling pretty good and sweaty. I love talking with Billie, just walking around midtown talking freely about whatever it is on our minds. He’s such a dear friend and we’ve known each other about 23 years. Billie is my chocolate sister from the Chocolate City.