Well it’s Thursday. I found that out the hard way this morning. I lay in bed, barely remember Bill saying good bye like he always does. I lay there, the alarm on my cellphone going off to remind me not to forget it.

I drifted closer to the shores of being awake when I realized that as comfortable as I was in bed, it was Thursday and not Friday and I had better get moving.

Interruption at present: Harpy being a most curmudgeonly curmudgeon. Drunken call at 9:15 whining about how much he hates that I post things on Facebook that his other friends have posted already. It’s so cute to be berated by the drunken Harpy.

He complains that everyone is dumping on him so the thing to do is to call the guy who always takes his call and give him (me) a hard time. Oh he’s just dripping with charm tonight.

Anyway back to me, I got my act together and walked across midtown to the office winding up in the office at 9:20. No one seemed to care or notice. I ran a few errands and picked up a bagel. I actually had a few projects going on.

Next week I’ll probably be alone in the office since Greg Stevens will be back in Arizona and Vivek will be in Acapulco. Still there are four other companies I have to support. Harpy called me Apollo since out of most of his friends I am getting a steady paycheck.

I stayed a little later in the office since I had plans on going to the United Nations to support Jon Fried and Deena Shoshkes as well as their friend John O’Neil from the New York Times. It was a concert of sorts in support of World Autism Day.

John O’Neil would say a few words, ending on a keyword that would be the title of a song that he wrote with either Jon or Deena. It was quite nice and they had a good crowd. A few researchers and teachers of children with autism also said a few informative and encouraging words.

It was a nice change of pace and definitely good to see Jon and Deena. I always liked the Cucumbers, from the first time they played McSwells. I even gave their first EP as a holiday gift when it came out.

I didn’t get a chance to speak with Deena but I did speak with Jon. We gave each other a hug and he told me that his mother in law Googled his name and what came up was John Ozed, specifically last night’s entry about how Deena was shooting daggers at me from the back seat as Jon was driving me close to my apartment in Weehawken.

We had a larf about that, and Jon said he remembered the night perfectly and that Deena was shooting the daggers at him, not me. I was only collateral damage.

It was all in all a pleasant evening, topped off with a Padron as I strolled down 42nd Street, from the United Nations to the bus terminal where a bus was waiting.

Jon Fried & Deena Shoshkes

Jon

Deena

almost like the Exploding Plastic Inevitable

Me