Monthly Archives: May 2011

I Am the Walrus

5 Replies

The rain poured down quite heavily this morning as I was sleeping, it was raining hard enough that I wondered if there was to be flooding when I headed out to work. It stopped for a while when I walked to the bus stop and held off as I made my way to the cigar shack.

Things are improving at the cigar shack, the new regime isn’t fully installed yet but I assured Calvin that I was up for the task of working underneath him. I don’t want to see him fail and will do my utmost to support him.

The day started out easily enough despite working with everyone’s favorite cipher the brain dead Bradley. Calvin was in a meeting with Marcus in the man cave as I set about starting up my duties. I spoke with Bill a few times and was surprised to get his call about an hour later.

He had some sad news. Our friend Hyman gross had passed away. The information was sketchy, gather from Hyman’s nephew. Apparently Hyman died either en route to the Jewish Home in East Harlem where Hyman was going for rehab for his broken ankle, or once he was actually placed in the home. It was a shock, though we knew it was going to happen sooner or later.

Hyman was about 84 years old, his heart was broken since his companion Joan died in 2009 and he was very lonely. Bill and I could only fill that void so much, and the moments when Hyman was alone, waking up almost every night at 3AM. He told me sometimes he felt so alone that he would call the suicide hotline. He never went that far, but I’m sure the idea was there.

I feel bad, and wish I could have done more for him. I also wish he didn’t hit my buttons so much that I would tell him how upset he was making me.

I am glad that I was able to see him in the hospital and bring him the New York Times. I am also glad that he was able to see Bill perform in 2 plays. And I am happy to have been able to take him to what turned out to be his last Thanksgiving dinner at the Waldorf Astoria with Bill.

I tried to get Hyman to write his life story down, he had quite a few tales to tell. Being cruised by Rex Harrison was just one of the stories.

At the end of the night a vendor came to the cigar shack with a bottle of champagne to toast Calvin and his promotion. I was asked to sit in and I gladly did, enjoying a cigar and a flute of the bubbly. Calvin turned to me and asked how I was doing since I told him about Hyman’s passing.

I told him I regretted not being able to say good bye and Calvin understood. I then asked if I could make a toast to the memory of Hyman and Calvin and the vendor and I clinked glasses in Hyman’s memory. It was nice. Calvin was able to get a ride home with the vendor and I closed the store, making my way to the subway.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Hyman, how he was surprised that I would walk from the cigar shack to the bus terminal in minutes (before my knee got jacked up of course) and be able to catch that 9:42 Willow Avenue bus with him.

He always brightened up when he saw me and I was usually tired and grouchy by then. Still I would sit and talk with him. The bus drivers knew Hyman and tonight when I told the bus driver what happened to Hyman, he was visibly saddened.

I am sad to see him go, and I hope he is happy somewhere out there in the universe, hopefully with Joan. Rest in peace, Hyman Gross.

Hyman Gross

I Am the Sword

2 Replies

It’s one of those Mondays, rainy but not really. More drizzly, sideways winds blowing spray to & fro. Perfect weather for the chronically malcontent as well as the regular (& irregular) snippy people.

Of course I leave out the most important piece of the equation, the shallow and lazy people, also known as the weepies. I would include them but I wiped my feet on the doormat.

It’s been another interesting day today. Thomas and Calvin and myself, getting along famously. It wasn’t an easy start for me today though. The rain certainly lent itself to wanting to stay in bed and sleep as much as possible. Of course that didn’t happen.

I got out of bed, Bill sleeping in having a day off since he’s been on the ill side of things the past few days. He drove to Atlantic City on Friday and wasn’t feeling 100%. Thankfully he made it there and back safely.

He came home on Saturday and went right to bed as I headed off to work. He was awake when I came home but not for long. I stayed up and watched Saturday Night Live turning in before the end.

Yesterday was basically a blasé day, went out in the morning and out again in the afternoon to return Punk: Attitude to Netflix. Turned out I had seen it before. Still good, sad to see young Ari Up and remember she passed away not too long ago. Same with Poly Styrene.

My timing turned out to be good. I sat by the river for a few minutes and then headed home since I was bored and a bit depressed. 5 minutes after I walked through the door the skies opened up and it poured quite a bit.

Bill had made it out, headed into the city for an acting interview class. He also learned a song, Family, from Dreamgirls. Once again, I initially thought it was corny but by the time he finished it I was quite moved.

I felt he was singing it for me. I was in such a state that I really couldn’t hear it any other way. It really hit me. It was similar to years ago when Bill & I first started going out and I surprised him at his church one Sunday afternoon.

He was playing their baby grand and singing a song that I thought was just too corny. I Believe in You & Me by the Four Tops. I knew the Tops version and I knew Whitty Hutton’s version but hearing Bill sing it and play it on the piano was amazing and had me sobbing by the end.

I didn’t sob last night but I did get a lump in my throat.

So much for being chronically malcontent. I would probably be more of a malcontent, lurking underneath bridges probably in or around Central New Jersey with 174.252.7.87 being my IP Address. But since it is not I am not.

I’m quite content. I have friends and family and a very good man that loves me. I guess that some people don’t have that. I count my blessings from time to time. Not often enough but I know that they’re there.

Ol’ whatshername is now having it’s comments go directly in the spam folder. Not worth my trouble and not worth ruining your eyesight with its rants. I have a life and you can read about a portion or a slice of it on this here blog.

Surprisingly, some haters can read too, their comments are sometimes monitored, sometimes sent to spam. That’s the way the teat leaks I suppose.

My boo, not looking ill, but he was.