It’s Monday, and you can probably figure out the date. It’s been a good weekend with Mike while Bill is somewhere in the Midwest? The south? I can see him online but cannot describe or name the part of the country where he is located. What part of the country is Nashville? I’m sure you know, but it escapes me at the moment.

The weekend was Mike and me, chillin’. A few episodes of Golden Girls were watched and I rented Pillion, which was, for me, a disappointment. Not as funny, not as romantic as I had heard. Mike is inching his way into the leather world and would like for me to accompany him. I just find the leather world too one dimensional and lacking in warmth and or humor.

There was a time, I’m guess about twenty years ago. I had a playdate with a man in the east of Midtown on the river. I prepared for it all day. Juan knew about it, Bill did not of course. I took a train to Midtown and walked east. I knocked on the guy’s door and was let in.

No warmth, or humor or anything resembling hospitality. I knew within minutes that this was not where I wanted to be and was back on the street soon after. I’m sure the inhospitable host was surprised. I remember calling Juan afterward and explaining what had happened. And a few months later, at Folsom East with Juan, I think I saw the geezer. I was immune to his glare and moved on with Juan.

I suppose the timing must be right for me to enjoy being in a scene like that. I had been around the scene but never so much as being in the scene. And when I attempted to do so, it never quite worked out. Mike prods and suggests and I am hesitant, since I am a sociable and humorous guy, and they are not.

46 years ago, I attended the Beatlefest with Perry Dedovitch. It was only a few months since John Lennon was murdered, and there was definitely a weird vibe to it, at least for me.

I thought Perry was so cool, and since he was known to smoke weed, I wanted to do the same. That Sunday night in the parking lot at the Meadowlands Hilton, I smoked my first joint and nothing happened. Nothing happened the second time either, but the third time was the charm.

I forgot where I was; it may have been in Perry’s van, and the universe revealed itself to me. Everything was funny, and all food tasted amazing. Driving around, me laughing hysterically and getting burgers with everything on them at the Dairy Queen on River Road in Garfield.

It was a simpler life back then. I was getting high all the time after that. A few years before my mother made me swear on the grave of her mother that I would never smoke pot. I swore, and then a year or so after, I proselytized for the weed.

I did not smoke in high school, though many other guys did. I was a bad enough student and did not need external stimulation to sink my grades even further.

At my desk I once again played the B-52’s playlist, followed by the Brian Eno remix of protection by massive attack and I also played the massive attack Tom Waits collaboration which came out last week. Then I started playing the XTC playlist and now at lunch wear Blue Danube is playing in my head as well as Kate Bush which could be the playlist I play when I go back to my desk

Does anyone have an idea what season will be tomorrow?