Well I had better get started before True Blood starts. A bit tired after walking around the canyons of midtown Manhattan in sheer mugginess.

There was a threat of rain so I carried a big ass umbrella and wore my work boots. Last time I was in Central Park and it rained it was a mess, so I tried to be prepared. It made for a cumbersome walk around Central Park but I managed.

Summerstage is mainly over except for a few paying shows and lot’s of strollers had taken over Bear Hill. I guess there are a lot of people who couldn’t get out of town or were tired of being cooped up yesterday from the rain.

A lot more musicians and street entertainers all out trying to make that elusive tourist buck. Not many places to sit and chill out.

Before I went into the park I did stop by the office to see if there were any more updates on the project I’ve been assisting Greg Stevens with. Part of that is reading his emails and I was surprised to find that the project that I was doing under the auspices of it being under the table doesn’t seem likely.

I came across an email from the check writers in Los Angeles asking that I fill out an I-9. Which would not make it under the table, nor off the books. And it’s an uneasy position that I find myself in since the email was not one of the emails I should have been looking for.

Greg Stevens is on vacation and to bring it up to him could mean I invaded his privacy. I could email the check writer in Los Angeles directly and ask her the status then break it down t her without leaving a paper trail.

To them it’s not a lot of money, but for me it could definitely help me out. So I guess I will do that tomorrow.

Last night Bill and I watched The Panic in Needle Park, from 1971. Definitely the seedy side of New York City. It was good, not great.

I told Bill of how my Uncle Joseph would call every park in New York City ‘Needle Park’ and he was probably right about that, even though when visiting Uncle Joseph and Aunt Lil in the Bronx, Needle Park was where we would sometimes go when the grown ups had enough of me and my brother Brian being antsy from sitting around my Uncle’s house for so long.

Sad to say my Uncle Joseph isn’t the guy he used to be. It turns out that Brian visited him in his nursing home today and he didn’t know who Brian was. Sad, he was always a funny outgoing guy to us. I couldn’t really say how he was to other people though.

He was a bit racist and I used to make excuses that he was from the old school and resistant to change. Now he sits blind and legless in a nursing home, unable to recognize one of his few living relatives.

Almost time for True Blood. See ya.