Monthly Archives: November 2008

Play Your Part (Pt. 1)

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It’s Thursday and for me it’s a Friday. I took tomorrow off. No biggie. Gave them advance notice and also set things up so everything should run with relative ease. I really miss Bill. I saw him after work today, for almost 10 minutes.

He’s such a goof, but he’s my goof and I love him. Hard to believe it’s been almost 2 weeks since he’s been staying with his mother in her apartment. I know it has to be done. I offered to go and sit with her should the need arise but so far it hasn’t.

I will say that it’s good to have a three day weekend. Next weekend will be a four day which is even better.

I did something out of the ordinary today. I bought a suit. I try to get a new suit every year and there was a sale at Syms. A nice sale. I was able to get it at a good discount. What’s out of the ordinary is that it’s a three piece. That means suit jacket, trousers and a vest. I’ve never worn a vest before but when I tried it on, it looked great.

It was a Bill Blass suit at a really good price. I planned on taking it to the tailor tomorrow, but I left it at my desk, so I may go in to pick it up. Bill offered to go on his lunch hour since he has to come here to pick up some clothes after work tomorrow.

I tried to dissuade him from doing that, but if he does he needs to give me a heads up so he can pick it up and it will be ready for him. But if there are no snow showers as they predicted this morning for tomorrow I could just as well run in and out and get it myself though I’d really rather not.

I know that if I go in I could be shanghaied into doing something. Today work was fairly busy. The new guys aren’t the pigs I expected them to be, but there is a right wing slant to them. One of them was going off on how he hated Barney Frank and wanted him dead. The other guys reminded him that Barney Frank isn’t so bad and a lot of republicans like him and that quieted him down somewhat.

I got two messages on My Space, one from Inara George from The Bird and the Bee. That was from last month. I sent them an email ‘Saw you for the first time and you were excellent. Thanks so much for getting me out of my bad mood! Look forward to seeing you again soon (I Hope!)’ Inara responded with a ‘Thank you!! xox Inara’. That was nice.

The other My Space message was from Gregg Gillis himself, aka Girl Talk I wrote, ‘I had a wonderful and enjoyable time Saturday night at Terminal 5. Really fantastic and unlike any other show I had ever been to, and I’ve been to a lot! Cheers!’

To which he replied, “thanks so much i had a great night! Gregg” Nice to see that they take the time to respond with a quick line to thank their fans.

I don’t think they have assistants to do it for them. It’s not like they’re Meat Loaf. Inara is in Holland tonight and in London this weekend. Girl Talk is in Cheswick PA this weekend.

So if you’re in either area, go check them out.

And though it isn’t really new, but I just found out yesterday, but Monty Python has an official YouTube channel, and here it is. Any minute now. Here it comes. Wait for it…..
ta da!

http://www.youtube.com/montypython

Writing on the Wall

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I just saw Eddie Love on the street. That’s not his real name and I don’t know what his real name is. His DJ name is Eddie Love though. We’ve been in the same universe of Hoboken and actually 20 years ago we were cordial to each other. We never competed with each other as DJ’s. He spun at the Beat n’ Path and I was spinning at McSwells.

Nowadays we pass each other on the street and neither one of us has anything to say to the other. It’s just something interesting. I could have seen his real name since I last saw him the night I was helping to register voters. But I just couldn’t be arsed.

He was friends with Maurice Menares back in the day. Everyone was friends with Maurice. He was such a charmer and still is probably. Last I heard he was managing the Beastie Boys store in Los Angeles. I last saw Maurice when Julio and I went to see Beck at Radio City.

He was doing something for Beck and was great to see him. He’s such a sweetheart. So if he Googles himself, Maurice Menares is a sweetheart.

Right now I’m in a Facebook chat with my niece Hillary. She’s Brian and Karen’s eldest daughter, smart and pretty and she just made the honor roll. Right now I’m trying to convince her that if she ever runs out of things to read, she can always write.

She hates writing though. I can’t ever imagine hating writing. I’ve been doing it all my life. I have journals from past years scattered throughout the apartment. Some embarrassing stuff. Some written while sober, some written while high or drunk.

A lot of friends knew I wrote and felt I was a good writer despite never having read anything that I had written. And so when gifts were given to me they were generally blank books and I have a few of those. I always found blank books intimidating. A keyboard on a typewriter or a computer, I always found them more welcoming.

I once got a good grade in grammar school for an interview that I completely made up. It was with a barber friend of my father’s and it was a last minute, Sunday night homework assignment. I wound up writing about how his customers would talk to him, almost like he was a psychiatrist. Totally bogus yet I aced it.

Another writing task was quite inadvertent. It was Junior year of high school, the dreaded Algebra final. I struggled all year long and I was poised to fail the final. Letters I can handle, numbers I can manage mostly, but putting letters and numbers together just scrambled my brain. If y equals 99 and x equals 1/8 what is the answer?

Things like that would cause a meltdown. And I faced the Algebra final exam and it was all like that. All I felt I could do was to write an essay.

I just wrote about how I never understood this and I probably never will and I swore that I would never apply the lessons Sister Reginald taught in real life. And I also mentioned that summer school would achieve nothing, that my parents would more than likely kill me and that she was a good teacher, that it was just that I was a poor student.

I passed, or rather Sister Reginald let me pass. Social promotion- I benefited!