Monthly Archives: September 2007

Nessun Dorma

Luciano Pavarotti died at aged 71, pancreatic cancer. Probably the closest thing to a voice like Enrico Caruso’s that my generation will ever hear if they ever heard. I would have liked to have seen him sing, he did a free concert in Central Park a while ago, but I was too much of a rock snob to go. I may have been working or unavailable but I didn’t make an effort to go. My loss, for real. I like to think I’m well rounded in my taste in music, but I do have slip ups and ruefully appreciate things after the fact. I’m still a metal resistor, in all it’s forms from Death to Speed. Doesn’t go well with herbalization, does it? Well Bad Brains did it, but I never liked them either, so my resistance goes to Hardcore, Thrash and Straight Edge. There are one or two songs I like from both groups, but they slip my memory right now. Feel free to ask though. No really. I am writing to you phantom voyeur friends of Harpy.

Yesterday I woke up to My Sweet Lord, and went to sleep to I Should Have Known Better and woke up this morning to Yesterday. I do enjoy having WCBS back though it’s not the same, more like a reanimation of sorts. I just want to make my waking up peacefully, not wanting Black Sabbath or Pink Floyd on the radio. And since I recognize most oldies, it’s all pop music I have had a love hate relationship with pop music over the years. Loving it out of necessity and hating it when I didn’t need it.
Last night I didn’t do much of anything. I did watch A History of Violence by David Cronenberg and starring Viggo Mortenson and Maria Bello. It is a violent but tastefully done. There are reasons and consequences of the violence. It’s a stylized violence which makes a difference. I mean, consider crude violence and what that looks like. Not saying this is balletic like a Kung Fu movie, but it’s a good movie and rather fast paced. IMDB it if you don’t believe me. I’ll wait for the phantom voyeur friends of Harpy. I do recommend A History of Violence.

Work was fairly quiet, both Tom Chin and Vivek out on holiday, though not together. Got a phone call from Congressman Tom Cole for Tom Chin, saying that Tom Chin was going to get a Certificate of Merit from Tom Cole. Some big republican thing asking for money no doubt. I sent an email to Tom about it and he called back figuring out they were asking for money. He wanted to know why they asked for him, and I mentioned that he’s a republican from Connecticut. He said I was probably more right wing than he is. I certainly dress like a right winger for work, (it’s my belief that as abhorrent as I find the republican party, the men dress a lot better then their democratic opponents. If only there were a sharp dressed democrat.) but with my luck if and when the revolution happens I’ll be dressed in a suit and tie. Draw your own conclusions phantom friends of Harpy. Draw them I say!

Overheard this conversation on the street this afternoon, 51st between Park and Lexington.
I submitted this to http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/
“Her father always said them bitches better learn how to read. The only one was Cleo and she learned that legal shit and got hired. But every summer they would fire her so that kids from Harvard hospital…school could come in and do pre bono work.”

Yell Help (Wednesday Night/Ugly)

Wednesday feeling like Tuesday. I am a day behind myself this week but I don’t mind since I have such a nice ass. Didn’t do much last night. Watched a documentary on Neil Young called Heart of Gold. It was good, directed by Jonathan Demme. Just Neil and his band live at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, also known as the Grand Old Opry. It was mainly all songs from his last record, not the Living With War record, but the one where he sings about his mortality, or all of our mortality. Not exactly a party record but it was enjoyable nonetheless. I don’t know whether or not I got it for brother Frank last year for Xmas, so maybe if he reads this (and he’s known to read these from time to time) he will tell me so he won’t get an extra for his birthday.

Watched Law and Order after that, snore snore. Been there, spotted the corpse, figured out whodunit before the first commercial break. Then it was sleep. That went well. Woke up in a big empty bed, had to make my own damn coffee and pour my own damn cereal in my own damn bowl. Then I took a damned shower. I wore a suit today. It wasn’t too hot and there were big wigs coming in, so I had to make a good impression and I looked great as usual. Didn’t sweat too much, I paced my crosstown jaunt.

I got a call from the dreaded Crystal who didn’t log off my computer last night so I logged her off when I got to work. She called and asked when I was going to lunch so she could log in again and finish the work she should have done last night. So at 1:30 I logged off to take a whole hour for lunch, which I’m entitled to and haven’t done since I started working there. I ate before I left the office and decided to have a cigar and go to Dag Hammarskjöld Park by the United Nations building. I used to go there for lunch with Jet back in the eighties and get really jazzed up.

There was a Farmers Market going on and it was crowded and I decided to move to Park Avenue where I could smoke my cigar and look at various men parading up and down the avenue in some nice suits. Found a nice spot, somewhat shady, somewhat breezy. I saw James Brady, who is a writer or used to be. Now he does puff pieces in Parade magazine. Saw a guy that used to sell me cigars at Davidoff when I worked at Wanker Banker. He seemed happy to see me, but maybe it was a banana in his pocket or a LGC #7 cigar. And once again I saw Kelly the woman who waters plants in various buildings that I seem to be around.

Before I knew it, the hour was almost up and I had to make it back to the office. I don’t quite understand the latest footwear fashion for trendy young men, or metrosexuals. They wear shoes with an extra inch or two in front that make the toe curl up. It looks so stupid. I wear a size twelve shoe and extending it to fourteen would be ridiculous. Why would a size ten try to make it look like a size twelve? For an elvish look? Dumb dumb dumb. Then there is the other end of the spectrum with older guys all having buckles on their loafers. They all seem to. I don’t get it and I don’t want it. For now.

Cut and pasties (both are in the blogroll to your right, lazy asses)

from Rod 2.0
http://rodonline.typepad.com/rodonline/2007/09/uganda-ethics-m.html

from Joe.My.God
http://joemygod.blogspot.com/