Monthly Archives: March 2009

Boom Boom

Well it’s Friday again. I just got back from a quick dinner with my sister in law Elaine and my niece Corinne. I was going to take a train home but they insisted on dinner before that and since I had pizza 2 times last night, pizza in Garfield was out of the question.

We wound up going to a restaurant named Charlie Blood’s where Corinne was able to schmooze with a few board of education people since she’s trying to get a job in education when she graduates from college this year.

I didn’t mind, I got some food and all I had to do was leave the tip. Elaine picked up the tab since I paid last time on St. Patrick’s Day. I was out in Garfield to play guitar with my brother Frank. The original plan was for me to go out there around noon and be back in Hoboken around 4:00.

Of course when dealing with Frank time is never of the essence. He thought he’d drive me home around 7:00. I first said no and stuck to my guns but as the morning passed I found that I didn’t want to hustle for a noon train. Plus I was still doing laundry.

I got it together eventually, burned a handful of CD’s for him, getting some old Mojo and Uncut magazines for my brother, brought some songbooks of Bowie, The Beatles, Macca and a download of Graham Parker & the Rumour’s Squeezing Out Sparks. Loaded them all into a now quite heavy bag.

It was good to see Frank, and I think he got a lot out of my visit. The train ride was uneventful. I wasn’t
the only person with a guitar. That was unexpected.

Across the aisle from me was a young man with a military type jacket with brass buttons, bed head and a Jay-Z patch as well as a Pink Floyd patch with hammers from the Wall movie. You’d think we’d communicate since I had a guitar and so did he, but no, it didn’t happen.

This wasn’t the early days of rock and roll where you would see someone else with a guitar and strike up a conversation and perhaps start a band.

I got off the train at 3:00 in Garfield and Frank showed up a few minutes later. He was the only one at home, now that he’s retired. Frank likes to warm up playing along to the blues channel on cable. He was surprised to learn that I don’t know anything about the blues.

Surprised since so much of the music I like is based in the blues. I’m not an Elvis Presley fan but a few bands that I like loved Elvis. Maybe it’s because I had seen too many bad blues bands, and I tend to avoid the blues at any cost. Maybe a John Lee Hooker song every now and then but really, no thanks.

I think I did a good job of following his lead but I tend to spend too much time trying to figure out the chord formations as he played. When it was my turn I started playing She’s A Woman by the Beatles. Easy enough, 5 maybe 6 chords total. Frank was playing lead to my rhythm since I can’t play lead to save my life.

It was going well until Frank turned the TV back on and threw in a DVD of Ken Kesey and Neil Cassidy at the World’s Fair in 1964. I learned years ago from Ann Boyles that a TV really takes away from a party or scene that might be happening.

I think next time I will have to insist that no TV will be turned on after he gets warmed up. Despite the stroke I think Frank is still a good guitar player, still way ahead of me on that.

Natty Dread

Well, it’s Thursday this time. For most it’s just a Thursday but for me it’s the last day of the work week. Still not used to it. I start thinking on Friday that it’s Saturday, then on Saturday I think it’s Sunday and on Sunday I have no idea what day it is.

I usually figure it out before I go to sleep, after I get the feeling in my stomach that there is homework that I hadn’t done and boy am I going to get it tomorrow.

Last night I watched Lost which was good. Sawyer/Le Fleur is calling the shots and there little or no Jack involved which was fine by me. I think it’s building up tot the reappearance of John Locke. The season finale.

Plus with Sayid taking care of little Ben last night, you know that it’s not the last we’ve seen of Ben. Last night was mainly about Sayid. He was dosed with a sugar cube of LSD, administered by William Sanderson. It made Sayid loosen his tongue and he almost gave away Sawyer’s identity.

It was a bit of a chore staying alert after coming down from the bourbon buzz. I found that Woodford Reserve is a very nice bourbon, a little bit sweet which helps it going down the gullet.

Bill was so tired that he didn’t pay any attention to Lost and didn’t stay up to watch Lawn Hors d’oeuvre, which was enjoyable. A little bit of the Madoff disaster, mixed in with an investigative TV reporter being killed and behind the scenes at a local newscast.

That was followed by the local news on Channel 4 and featured a celebration of Chuck Scarborough behind the desk for 35 years. I did think it was odd that the newscaster on Lawn Hors d’oeuvre resembled Chuck Scarborough.

On the news last night was an item about a proposed fare hike for the MTA. They had a guy complaining that he pays $272.00 a week already and the fare hike would cripple him. He said he wouldn’t be able to take his son to McDonalds or give him money so his son could buy extra tickets to the movies.

Whatever happened to parents saying, ‘No, we can’t afford it?’ I heard that often enough as my mother would buy sneakers for me at the A&P. Plastic soled sneakers that always got me unwanted laughs during gym class. I didn’t like it, but weren’t about to spend $40.00 on sneakers.

I know parents want their kids to have a better life that they did growing up but is giving the kid everything they wanted the way to go?

After that there was nothing to do but go to sleep. Woke up with Bill heading out and me getting out of bed at 6:30. Soon I found myself on the bus, finishing up the New Yorker from last week and starting on this weeks issue.

Walked across town and got to the office earlier than usual. I figured out that I am the office manager for 6 different companies. There are currently six companies working in my office and I support all of them though I’m only getting paid by one.

Maybe two if I count Vivek and his partner’s Cable box scheme, selling cable boxes to hotels and motels usually owned by Asian Indians. They’ve cut my work days to four from five and I figured I’d make up the money I lost with one company with hours worked for Vivek’s other company but I haven’t seen it yet.

One of my managerial duties is looking after the phone system. I had placed a call on Tuesday about a phone problem and hadn’t heard anything regarding it. No, that wasn’t the phone problem. My phone was working just fine, it was someone else’s phone.

I called the phone company today and they had no trouble ticket. They didn’t seem too concerned about it but I was, since I was going to be out until Monday. I got off the phone with them and asked the woman if she was still having phone problems and she said it was taken care of yesterday.

No, no one told me. I felt like an idiot. My old boss Risotto always used to say, ‘Communicate early and often’. It’s true, you do that and most problems can be avoided or solved. Just so frustrating. I called the phone company back and sort of apologized.

Their end was surprised that no one called me about the phone line being repaired. Bill always mentions that my astrological sign, Virgo, symbolizes communication so maybe that’s why I get hung up one communicating.

Today was also the day that Amy Sachs stopped by my office. She’s the woman who stopped me on the street last week to tell me how good I looked. She was nice enough to say that so I was nice enough to allow her to try to sell me a suit.

She was a bit new at the sales thing so she was accompanied by a supervisor, A Kristen Chenowith type named Brianne. I guess they were expecting a boy and were going to name him Brian. Surprise! It has a va-jay jay!

It was a nice pitch they threw and the fabric were incredible. Alas, a suit that usually goes for $1250.00 and now on sale for $950.00 is still rather expensive. Buy a suit? Or pay the rent?

I told them midway through their pitch that due to budgetary reasons, buying a suit is out of the question. My, how their faces fell. Still they took some information from me and asked me questions, like any golfing partners that might have the funds to afford such a nice bespoke suit.

Maybe my stockbroker? Fraternity buddies? No, no and no.

I love dressing up and looking like a million bucks with my off the rack suits, but no, I don’t have a million dollars and the bespoke suits are just a fleeting memory. I can always enjoy looking at the models though.

I overheard a conversation in the lobby of my office building today,
Guy #1: So are you bringing your girl to the bar tonight?
Guy #2: Dude, that’s like bringing sand to the beach!

Loved it.