So damn tired. Day six of the new job. Last Monday in April. A good day was had with Mike while Bill was on the road. Mike enjoys Hoboken. He finds it exciting. He wasn’t here 40 years ago when, for me, it was exciting.
Nowadays, it’s all babies and dogs. Mike likes the new buildings that have popped up, changing the face of neighborhoods and inhabited by newcomers to town who can afford $4000 a month rent or condo fees. That would be no one that Bill or I know, and I doubt if Mike would know anyone in that bracket either.
There was a small art show throughout Hoboken yesterday, and we went to the Neumann Leather Building, where Karyn Kuhl exhibited her art a few doors down from where Tim Daly had his art on display. Karyn and a friend of hers found me to be funny and suggested that I do stand-up comedy.
That brought on a brief talk about how I might do such a thing. I once again brought up this here blog and the intention to do an on-camera thing, inspired by the late Spalding Gray. Where Spalding would sit at a table and read from his journals, those spaces are gone now, and Spalding might be posting online his stories. That raised some eyebrows in a good way.
We met a few other artists, mainly female artists, who had some very nice work. It was a windy spring Sunday, and after leaving Neumann Leather, we wandered back home. Bill soon joined us after his transportation adventure.
We watched Daredevil, which while good, and Bill and I watched for the second time for Mike’s sake. I would have preferred to watch something fun and lighthearted. The other night I came across a business card for Star Bike Shop. That was from the twentieth century.
Julio and I were riding our bicycles from Weehawken to Central Park Summerstage. As luck would have it, I got a flat tire. It was a hot summer day, and there was not much by way of a bike shop in Harlem where we stopped. We wondered what to do when a man with one arm approached us.
He repaired bikes in his apartment and offered to fix my flat tire, we would just have to go to his apartment. I had no problem with that, though Julio was understandably worried. I got a good vibe from the one-armed man. We got to the one-armed man’s apartment after climbing a few flights of stairs, and about 10 minutes later, my flat was fixed and we were on the street.
We were going to a reggae show and suggested that the man join us, but he thanked us, and after paying him $10.00, we were soon crossing 110th Street and entering the park. I don’t remember the band we were seeing, and for some reason, I think it was Burning Spear, though I could be wrong about that. It was a good memory of a time and a world that more than likely does not exist anymore.
