My heart beats for the one I love. That is how the song goes. It’s from the 1980s, which doesn’t seem so long ago but it actually is. Ran out 40 years. Crazy, I know. Bill came home last night after being away for something like 9 days. And he didn’t drive me crazy like he often does . He was subdued as was I.

At the fruit stand once again. I will be here all week and next week at the belly from Monday through Thursday. Last time it was not so bad and I don’t see why next week would be any different. it’s quiet today and it was yesterday. There was an interesting thing that happened though.

As I sat at my desk the elevator opened up and a young man got out. He promptly walked over to the lobby window as he talked on the phone. I certainly paid attention to what he was doing and no alarms were raised. He soon ended his phone call and tried to get in which of course was up to me.

I opened the door and said “good afternoon “ and asked if I could help him. He mentioned that he had a meeting with a DJ I let him in. I asked if he had any codes that were sent to expedite his entry but nothing had been sent. I went about entering him in the system and asked the usual questions.

His name was Issac and he made sure that I spelled it right, I asked for his last name and he spelled that out, Ferry. I asked, “like Bryan? Any relation?” And Issac said that Bryan Ferry was his dad.That led to some interesting chats about Roxy Music. I can’t say that I was much of a fan but a few friends were and reading the UK magazines I knew enough to fake it.

Issac was pleasant enough and soon the DJ came out to collect him. I busied myself as usual, staring down the clock. Issac came out after meeting with the DJ and made it a point to shake my hand and invite me to a screen of a documentary on Ron Delsener.

I knew who Ron Delsener is, having gone to a few concerts and shows at some of his venues. I gave Issac my info and he put me down with a plus one. He might’ve said two but I am going with one. My paranoia and doubt have a say in the matter and nag me asking if I was sure there is a plus one.

I am taking Bill and hope that there is a plus one, paranoia be damned. And if there is no plus one, we will have a pleasant time just strolling around midtown Manhattan on an autumn evening and that would be fine with me.

For the past few days I have been using a tablet to write. It seems to be agreeable and a lot easier to use than the nightmare of dictation.

For the past hour or two I have been going crazy trying to move this post for editing later on. I was not getting anywhere. I saw my Wi-Fi connection was gone and spent too much time trying to get it back to no avail.

I figured I would have to bring the iPad home and have Bill do his Mac magic. Then Jimmy Chile arrived and as I sputtered my dilemma, Jimmy Chile let me know the Wi-Fi password was changed, unbeknownst to me.

Well done denizens of the belly.