Rainy day in Manhattan, and it’s the same for Hoboken. Grey day, not much to look at. And the rain slows down the time, which makes the day crawl even more.

Bill is on the road once more. Right now, Bill is gathering his things for a four-day excursion. He leaves tonight and maybe back on Sunday, though Monday is probably more like it.

I am back at the fruit stand that I usually sit at. There was a camera meeting this morning, and my two cents lasted about 30 seconds.

IDK is in the studio. IDK stands for Ignorantly Delivering Knowledge, not I don’t know. Handsome bloke, friendly entourage. Handshaking is a way to measure how the artist and entourage are. They put their hand out, it’s all good. They don’t, then who knows what the hell is going on? Some think they’re better than everyone else, and while it’s true that one must have a strong ego to succeed in the business, but being nice certainly oils the machine.

Daylight saving time is this weekend. Moving the clocks up an hour means a loss of one hour of sleep. I like to think an afternoon nap on Sunday would set things straight, though I am not so sure how true that is nowadays. I suppose I will find out on Friday.

Mike plans on coming over to babysit me, that is, if his boyfriend does not make the trip back east. It’s good to have him around, as I have stated before. He mentioned coming over tonight, and I suggested tomorrow as a better day. But we shall find out one way or another, as it depends on the boyfriend from the West Coast.

Hoboken Bon vivant Jack Silbert is interviewing one of the Bongos tonight for the Hoboken Hysterical Museum. It’s not Rob, it’s not Frank, and it’s certainly not Jim. It’s the one that I met early one morning in Union Square, awaiting a free bus ride for a March on Washington. Being a fan of the Bongos, I approached this particular one, who recoiled in horror or shame at being recognized. I guess he did not want his career jeopardized by being seen as gay. Did it work?

Memory from the 1980s. My brother Frank, my sister Annemarie, her friend Patty, and I went to a CBGB matinee that featured Let’s Active. My memory has this matinee as not being crowded at all, and as we walked into CBGBs, Frank swore he saw 2 Bongos making out. I didn’t see it, but Frank did, and it was frankly traumatic for him.

This was before the March on Washington, probably early 1980s, as I may have been living with my parents at that time and in the closet myself. I certainly did not see what Frank said he saw.

Dismal and gray, that is the way of today, or so I say.
And it was now revealed that the interview from the Hoboken Hysterical Museum will be postponed until December 31, 2026.