Monthly Archives: June 2011

I Can See Clearly Now

Today seems to be a big nothing kind of day. Not much is going on, slow at the cigar shack. I’m ambivalent about most things including music. And sales. Can’t say I am hustling since there is really no one to hustle to. The Bradley is playing Aimee Mann so you know what that sounds like.

I slept really well last night and not getting out of bed until just before 9:00 which is cutting it close in my book. In fact that was probably the only time I have hustled today.

Been thinking about some names from my past, Danielle Perry Cruz, Felicia Tennis Court, MaryAnn Molloy, Cotton Wright, Benedict Whatsisface, Derry Pedovitch. Just thinking about the names not the actual people. You know that at least one of them will do a Google search eventually and this is what will pop up.

It’s a beautiful day weather-wise ad once again I sat on a bench near the park, enjoying a cigar and reading ‘Our Band Could Be Your Life’ Started reading about The Replacements. I just finished the chapters on Husker Du and Minor Threat.

I had no idea how much crap these bands went through but they certainly paid their dues. I just never got into hardcore. Too angry and violent. The Replacements I saw a few times, sometimes great sometimes a shambles. Always at Maxwells too. Rita was closer to them than I was, though she did introduce me to Paul Westerberg.

Today is Bill’s mother’s birthday and it is also Julio’s birthday. Tomorrow is Bill’s birthday. The plan is to go to dinner with him at Arthurs and then when he goes home, I go to Maxwells and meet up with my brother Frank at the benefit for Danny Amis. Should be some old faces there.

Ha! Fucked up a bit. Sold some cigars to a cigar bar and neglected to include the receipt. So I took it upon myself to go to the cigar bar and drop it off. Usually they offer me a beer, but I don’t really drink anymore. I will probably have a pint with Bill tomorrow night for his birthday but that should be about it.

So many people offer me drinks and since I’m not drinking much these days I am thinking a polite way to say no thanks is to tell them I’m an alcoholic, which I’m not, but should end all offers for a drink. Not a friend of ‘Bill’ but rather his partner.

Now in the cigar shack it’s me and Thomas. When I went out to lunch earlier I took my iPod with me which basically turned out to be my giving up choosing music for the shack. So since then we heard Aimee Mann, Ben Folds, John Legend, Thelonius Monk’s son playing Thelonius Monk songs and now we are hearing the blues.

It turns out that I dislike the blues as much as I dislike jazz. Does that make me a bad person? No, I don’t think so. I find them both equally boring and uninspiring. I don’t begrudge anyone liking those genres but I would rather not listen to them at all. But what’s fair is fair.

I’m sure a lot of the music I like is not liked by others, but I would rather hear Hold On, I’m Coming by Sam & Dave rather than BB King & Eric Clapton. Oh how I loathe Eric Clapton.

Former co-worker Harold is also Sylvester Randolph who is doing porn. He can be Googled. And I also found out something today at work about the register, something I should have known before.

Everyone else seemed to know about it but me. A felt like a bit of a doofus, but didn’t say anything else after I mentioned it to the Bradley.






Home again. A little depressed and physically tired.

I Can Only Imagine

Home again, a Monday for me and a Monday for most everyone. The thing is, most everyone has Saturday and Sunday off, whereas I merely had Sunday off. That means cramming everything that most people have 2 days to deal with into 1 day. Not much fun, or at least not much time for fun.

So laundry was done, grocery shopping and errands were completed. Bill came home in the morning and though on the phone from Atlantic City on Saturday night he said it might be good to check out the Pride parade in New York City yesterday, I knew he would be too tired and I decided not to head into the city on my day off.

Bill slept most of the day as I washed clothes and went to the supermarket. It was fine by me. I did have a chance to go to the post office and on my way passed the Guitar Bar where I saw Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro. His eldest daughter Lily just graduated high school and he was quite proud of her as he should be.

I made my way to the post office and then decided to walk along the waterfront where I ran into my old busking friend Tariq. He was taking a break from strumming and handed me the guitar as I sat next to him. I played some Beatles songs and once again ignored by all passerby, except for my old friend Roger.

It was good to see Roger and since Tariq was headed into the city I took a little stroll around Hoboken with Roger who was looking for either a good slice of pizza or a falafel. He decided to buy a falafel and offered to buy me one, but I headed home and tried to wake up Bill who was still fast asleep.

He wouldn’t wake up so I let him sleep and sat in front of the computer where I argued with trolls online (I always seem to find them, though 1 seems to find me here) about same sex marriage. Me against the defenders of the catholic faith. How the protectors of child molesting priests should be able to decide that the marriage equality of 2 same sex consenting adults is valid or not. I wasn’t alone in my online troll battle and my allies had equally if not better points to prove our points.

Bill eventually woke up and we wound up on Pier A in Hoboken where we watched the fireworks following the New York City’s Gay Pride parade. It was nice, the 2 of us sitting and watching the explosions in the sky while we smoked cigars. With little prompting he also sang a quiet version of the Star Spangled Banner, really stretching out the high note at the end.

That was basically the high point (or high note) of the day since Bill and I rarely do anything outside the apartment together. He went back to bed soon after we got home and I chatted with online friends. I slept fairly well, waking up and getting my act together.

I decided to take a Xanax before I left and by the time I got to the cigar shack I was quite mellow. Too mellow perhaps since it wouldn’t take much to put me to sleep. But I persevered with the help of some Iced Coffees and eventually made it through the day.

I worked with Calvin and Thomas and overall though it wasn’t a blockbuster day we did alright. And now I am home, the Xanax has all but worn off after 12 hours. I shouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.

And neither should you after reading all this.