Monthly Archives: April 2011

I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here

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Where last week, working with Thomas and the Bradley was a lot of fun, this week is a total 180 degrees from that. Really no fun to be had this week. And I suppose my chickens have come home to roost.

I admit being a musical fascist, I’m somewhat known for my musical savvy (or so I would like to think) today I’ve been effectively shut out of any musical decisions of what gets played here in the shop.

Thomas has been manning the controls today, jazz jazz jazz and a smattering of Yo Yo Ma playing Bach Cello Concertos which was mournful and made an already slow day seem like a patient etherized on the table. And how I wished to be that patient.

I almost felt like the patient. It’s really too bad, but I didn’t have any actual expectations. I had none whatsoever and still I was let down. I guess both Thomas and the Bradley had gone out and had a few separately making them somewhat hung over today.

I do know the Bradley had a few coffee tequilas last night, at least that’s what he said. Thomas was out and about with his fiancé, at a jazz show last night in the vicinity of the cigar shack.

I did have an opportunity to play some of my own choices, but eventually a customer asked if he could play just one jazz song. I knew it would be more than one jazz song (though it could actually be one very long jazz song).

In any event I am quite glad I have off tomorrow and won’t have to see these yobs until Monday. Really, anytime away from these yobs is quality time. I certainly have to get the hell out of this shop though.

Hopefully things will pick up by the end of the week. Or at least I will have a clue with regards to a new direction. Of course I play the role of the tragic optimist quite well thank you.

I did have the foresight to as Calvin to arrange for me to have May 1 & May 3 off. May 1 is the Art & Music Festival, Ian Hunter headlining. And May 3 is when Bill sings the National Anthem at CitiField. I sent Calvin the email so either it will register or fall by the wayside, depending on the point of sobriety he may be at when creating the schedule.

I did get a call from Pedro. We’re supposed to hang out tomorrow. Hard to believe I hadn’t seen him since last summer. Perhaps he will have a lead. He was pulling for me to get a job at so & so’s restaurant but apparently that fell through. 2 hours and 20 minutes to go.

Probably more jazz to be played. It was so bad that I stepped out earlier with my iPod and played the Ramones to clear the decks so to speak. Did wonders for me and I came back whistling Beat on The Brat.

A few hours later and I am home now, it’s almost 10:30. Got in about 15 minutes ago. My drawer was short 3 cents and I had to find out why things could not reconcile. I found the sale, voided it and reentered it adding the 3 cents.

This job truly fills me with despair and despondency and those feelings have been occurring more and more lately. Being a janitor seems preferable. I caught a subway downtown and listened to the Cocteau Twins which reminded me of Jet.

I got to the bus terminal and rode the escalators up. I pulled out the Keith Richards autobiography and started to read it, and changed the iPod from the Cocteau twins to the Rolling Stones, Exile on Main Street.

I’ve owned Exile on vinyl but never really played it, and a few months ago I was able to get a copy of the deluxe CD from the bibliothèque, so I uploaded that. I pulled out Keef’s bio and started to listen to Casino Boogie when I felt a tap on my back.

Hyman Gross, tapping me with his cane. I did not see him at all, so focused I was on just getting home. Once again, thwarted from reading and escaping and relaxing. I talked with Hyman as we waited for the bus as well as riding on the bus.

Now I am home, more than happy to be here. RoDa texted me, telling me the bands at Maxwells were really kicking. If I wasn’t filled with dread and despair I might go, also if I wasn’t so damn tired, and if my knee wasn’t bothering me.

And Harpy called in response to my Facebook status. I am not alone, I have friends and family that love me. Nice to hear, but I really did not want to be on the phone with anyone, sorry Harpy. I’m so damn tired.

No posting tomorrow. Make up your own damn stories.

I Slipped, I Stumbled, I Fell

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Today is Friday and it’s also April Fool’s Day, making it April 1. It didn’t snow, in fact it was much like yesterday. Cold and drizzly mostly. It’s been a slow day at the cigar shack. Last night I left a few minutes early and was able to ride the bus home with Hyman Gross.

Tonight someone has to stay late (Calvin: Want to make some overtime John? Me: No. Get the Bradley to do it.) since there is some maintenance going on in the man cave. There is a very short man crawling around in the ventilation system, cleaning out a lot of gunk that has accumulated over the years.

Last night I took 2 melatonin tablets which helped me sleep so much that I really did not want to wake up and go to work this morning. I slept quite soundly and when I told Bill about the melatonin he asked if he could have a tablet since he hasn’t been sleeping too well as of late. I told them where I keep them.

I also saw Rand while I was waiting for the bus, just for a minute though since he was headed for a meeting at Stacks Pancake house. My type of meeting, lots of syrup. Reading the Keith Richards bio, which I neglected (didn’t know) it was written with James Fox, who probably deserves the lion’s share of credit for the exceptional narrative.

Now Keef is in art school and learning how to play guitar. He’s just met Mick and Ian Stewart and Brian Jones. It really is a fun book, I recommend it. I have until April 6 and since it’s such a new book I can’t renew it since someone is waiting for it.

My left leg is fine mostly. It’s when I stand up after sitting down, that’s when the problems start and then lately it goes away after a few minutes. Is it possible? Am I getting old? I mean in less than 2 years I will be 50 years old and I have to tell you, I never expected to make it this far.

And having written that, here comes a bus, barreling down after me, to make my words and give them that extra dose of irony. And since the Bradley is staying late (and he opened up my usual register) I get to leave a little after 9:00PM tonight.

I don’t think I will wait for the 9:42 bus to ride with Hyman Gross (sorry Hyman) but I would rather just go home and be with the one I love. And having written this much, it’s really one less thing I have to do tonight.

Well I might have written that too soon, since I haven’t hit the 500 word mark yet. For those that play at home, you probably realized that I write about 600 words every day lately, but tonight I will be satisfied with 500.

I hope you are satisfied with 500 words as well, but if you’re not, then TS. Thinks don’t always turn out as planned of course. I left the cigar shack at 9:00, leaving the Bradley behind the counter.

Despite my leg acting up lately, I decided to take my time, enjoy a cigar and walk (not stomp) down the avenue to the bus terminal. I was enjoying David Bowie, a playlist I made for my iPod. The cigar wasn’t that great but the weather was better than it’s been all day.

As I entered the terminal I noticed that I could easily catch a 9:25 bus and be back in Hoboken in no time. I was looking forward to reading more of Keith Richards book and seeing Bill soon enough.

I thought about calling Hyman to tell him I wouldn’t be on the bus with him, but decided and followed that line from Bob Dylan’s The Wicked Messenger, ‘If ye can’t bring good news, don’t bring any’.

I ascended the escalator and as I approached the gate I saw Hyman. He didn’t see me, and I almost kept on going. But I decided to see if he was OK. Hyman saw me and said he was glad to see me.

He said he was exhausted and I offered my arm and together we ascended another escalator and worked our way through self-involved twenty somethings to the gate where we needed to be. The bus I could have taken was idling and Hyman said I could take that instead of waiting with him, but I couldn’t leave him like that so I stayed.

I’m glad I did, it was a nice ride and a nice talk. Now I am home and don’t plan on doing anything else except to finish this entry. And the final word count, 803.