So many plates spinning. But first, the weekend. It went well. Nothing outstanding. All rather lowkey. We watched a few things starring Patrick Stewart, since he passed away last week and both Bill and I always enjoyed watching him.

My heel had healed somewhat though not fully. My limping was not as pronounced as it was on Friday. That was worrisome. It took about an extra 15 minutes I reckon to get from the Path train to my apartment. Bill was very concerned as was Mike.

Bill was home all weekend and Mike was at his crib. Bill and I made it to the supermarket where we stocked up on our weekly provisions. It wasn’t too bad though once again I forgot certain items. Bill and I enjoyed each other’s company. I cooked the pasta, pesto and chicken concoction that I do most every weekend. Enough for Bill, myself and some for Monday lunch.

We avoided all Halloween activities. We weren’t invited anywhere and though Hoboken is crazy for Halloween, we didn’t really care. I should have taken notes as to what we watched since I am drawing a blank. We started watching Picard again and now Bill is into it. We tried a year or so ago but it didn’t take. Now it’s taken. Yesterday we started the new season of The Diplomat, so that was good. A few twists so far.

The heel is a little bit better, my limp has been greatly reduced. I can get around better today that the past couple of days. I did attempt a visit to the supermarket to get my forgotten items but was not sure about the heel so I cut the errands short. Bill was alarmed and I tried to reassure him that it wasn’t too bad. Mike has also shown concern.

Today is the second of November,the train was not crowded this morning and that was nice. I sat and read Mojo magazine with Neil Young on the cover,I haven’t done that in a while. Back in the Algerian daze, there were three women who rode the same train most of the time and saw me reading Mojo with Bruce on the cover and that animated them greatly, asking about Mojo and where they could get that issue…

I returned a book to the bibliotheque, by Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor, “End Times Fascism” which was too heavy for me since I am constantly on the lookout for light, humorous things to read. I barely cracked the book open before returning it, allowing someone else to read the book.

I also have three issues of the New Yorker that I have yet to read. Also not as lighthearted as I desire. But I did get a canvas bag. Mike is supposed to stop by the office to pick up a box of cigars that he ordered. Or I ordered and he paid for it.

Mike showed up at the fruit stand and hung out until it was time to go about 20 minutes later. He got his cigars and we walked to the Path train. The Hoboken train arrived first and I jumped in, leaving Mike on the platform.

The 10 minute ride rolled on and when we passed through Christopher Street I went to check if my phone was in my pocket. Not in my pants, not in my blazer, and not in my shirt. It was too crowded to check my bag but that sinking feeling got deeper and deeper. The 10 minute train ride was over and I checked my bag. No phone. I had to go back to the office. I rode back into Manhattan, walked to the fruit stand and saw the phone on my fruit stand perch.

I called Bill and let him know what was going on and headed back to the Path train once again. I was debating whether or not to use my phone to ‘Tapp’ into the turnstile or use my ‘Tapp’ card. I didn’t need to think of either since I approached the turnstile that has the green for Go on it and strolled on through.

The train was more crowded this time but I didn’t mind.

845-8435 was the phone number for the Williams house. I spent a lot of time there growing up. They seemed like a modern family, more modern than my family, or so I thought. They were modern enough for Marge to divorce Eddie Williams. I heard rumors of why that happened. Someone cheated on someone in a motel on Paramus Road.

In 7 Riverview Ave lived Edward L., Marge, Edward’s mother- Nanny, Marge’s brother- Richie Klatt, and the children- Jimmy, Susanne, Barbara, and Scott. Growing up, Barbara was one of my first friends. We got along until she discovered boys and social circles that did not include me. Jimmy was close to my brother Frank’s age; Susanne was close to my brother Brian’s age. Barbara was close to my age, but when she dropped me, I hung out with Scott, who was 8 years younger than me.

Richie Klatt was Marge’s brother; he was obviously gay but no one spoke about it. He smoked a pipe, which to this day makes me think pipe smoking is an effeminate act. Really, if I see a guy smoking a pipe, I am out of there. He enlisted in the Navy but did not see battle. I can’t say I interacted with him at all, but I do know he adored the Supremes, and it took me a long time to appreciate the Supremes thanks to the pipe smoking lavender shadow cast by Richie.

Neighborhood folklore had Richie tied up by Richie Janowsky in a backyard to a laundry pole. Richie Klatt supposedly enjoyed any contact with Richie Janowsky. These stories took place before I came of age, told to me a few times by my brother Frank.

Susanne was beautiful and had a few suitors. She was training to be a beautician and a few times my mom would send me over to 7 Riverview so Susanne could practice on my misshapen head. My mom would give me a few bucks to pass along to Susanne, always less than $5.00. Writing that now, that money was a bit more than minimum wage though back then I was embarrassed and thought it was a meager amount. It wasn’t my money and Susanne did a decent job

Barbara discovered boys before I did. She married Brian Paladino who beat me up one summer day in Kennedy Park. I probably said something to Brian and set him off but whatever it was had me sitting at a picnic table while Brian punched me repeatedly egged on by his Garibaldi Avenue punk friends and I sobbed. It took over 50 years to realize that I more than likely triggered Brian Paladino.

Scott Williams had all the best and latest toys probably given to him by his parents to overcompensate for not being around much when he was growing up. I enjoyed being at 7 Riverview and it was a situation where I could always just walk into their house since I was there so often.

Marge Williams liked my mother and a few times fixed a plate of lamb, with mint jelly and potatoes that I picked up and brought from 7 Riverview to 13 Riverview. To me and my brothers, Marge Williams was beautiful, with a younger spirit than the other neighborhood mothers.

A specific memory of mine was watching Camelot on TV, sitting next to Marge, and seeing her sing along to whatever Guinevere played by Vanessa Redgrave was singing. I equate Marge Williams with Vanessa Redgrave

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In the real world presently, I bought a pair of dress sneakers the other day. I replaced a pair that had gotten a hole on the sole. I wore them most of the week. My right heel has been hurting lately. Discomfort more than pain, but I could still walk. Once I get moving I am fine, but for the first minute I walk with a limp. I figured the sneakers still need to be broken in, so I wore a pair of comfortable dress shoes that I had been wearing occasionally.

As I left my fifth-floor walk-up apartment, I walked down the street in discomfort which was not going away as fast as I wanted. I am now fairly certain these shoes were the source of my heel discomfort. I was not about to climb four flights of stairs to change my footwear. In hindsight, I should’ve.

It got worse when I got back to Hoboken. I dragged along the streets, everything taking twice as long as I limped homeward Angel… Bill was in concerned mode, meeting me downstairs and carrying my backpack as we climbed the stairs.

As soon as I had gotten out of the shoes there was relief. I started my laundry chores and then Bill gave me a foot massage which was nice. Now things are a whole lot better though not quite at 100%, but then again, I am sitting in front of a computer