Well, it is October 13th, a Monday, and indigenous peoples’ Day, AKA Columbus Day. There was a time when I’d have off on Columbus Day, but those times are gone. A nor’easter was scheduled or predicted, or forecast, but I don’t think it’s actually arrived, at least not here.

Down the shore, coastal towns might be inundated, but in Hoboken / Manhattan, it’s not so bad; it’s just wet. And we needed the water since we’re in the middle of a drought. Who knows if the drought will be alleviated?
was
I’m dictating and not typing. I am at work and hardly anyone is in. Hardly anyone was on the PATH train this morning. There are generally fewer people on Mondays and even less on Fridays, leaving Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to be somewhat crowded. But like I said, there are a few people this morning on the path train.

I sit at my desk listening to Brian Eno, and I was listening to Michael Kiwanuka earlier.
I’ve been here for about two and a half hours, and those two and a half hours have been very long. This weather does lend itself to sleep, making waking up this morning a little bit difficult. But I did sleep well.

I was going to go over to Mike’s this weekend on Saturday, since Sunday was anticipated to be a weather disaster. And then Mike flipped the script and said he was coming over to Hoboken just so he could get out of his apartment. And then Mike flipped the script again and declared that he had to work even though there was nothing scheduled for the evening it was all done in the afternoon.

To me, that Michael had a playdate with someone and didn’t want to tell me, and I’m pretty sure that’s what he did. I do think he’s a sex addict, and I do think he almost had me hooked once again after all these years.

Despite all his street smarts, he is a bit naive and childlike in so many ways, and I would hate to think someone would take advantage of him, although it seems that he does want to be taken advantage of. And that is why whatever we had did not work because I did not want to take advantage of him.

It’s a grey, damp day with a grayish white sky.

Diane Keaton passed away over the weekend. That was sad. My sister and I used to go see Woody Allen are back in the day at the Century Theater in Paramus. We saw Sleeper, Love and Death, Annie Hall, Interiors and Manhattan. It was a yearly thing since Woody released one new movie a year back in the day. So she was a part of my growing up, one of those actors who, because you like them so much, you would see them in just about anything that they put out.

According to the news reports, it was very sudden, not many people knew, and I certainly did not. So raise a glass to Diane Keaton, a one of a kind ladida la di da.

Listening to a lot of Brian Eno today, specifically the box set of instrumentals that was given to me by Rae Guay back in the day, before I even met her. I’ve explained what happened between me and her. She thought I was smarter than I actually was, and I set up to disprove her, and I am writing about her 20 years later, no contact whatsoever.

Back at my original fruit stand, or at least where I’ve been for the past couple of months. I’ve been texting with Ulysses about Pedro and how neither of us are in his life anymore. He just popped into my head for some reason, and we were all once tight like brothers, but no more, thanks to Trump or the thin-skinned blue line.

It was 46° this morning when I left the building it finally feels like Autumn. Mike is going through stress with his beloved, who might be jerking him around and not in a good way. Mike called me up last night, and I could tell immediately that there was something wrong. His voice sounded so sad, but he put up a front like nothing was bothering him.

I felt bad for Mike, but also realized that this seemed to be a pattern, the third weekend in a row where the beloved has backed out of coming out 3000 miles. I was going to ask Bill if it would be possible or okay for Mike to come over on Saturday and spend the night and go back to his crib on Sunday, but talking to Mike today, everything seems to be okay, so the offer was not made. A nor’easter is expected Sunday into Monday, so it seems that my bicycle ride will be canceled, which does not make me happy at all.

And with the 46° weather this morning, it might be a harbinger of the weather to come, which could mean last weekend was my last bike ride for the year. No fanfare at all.

On the other side of the penitentiary prison bars, I’ve been talking to you this is about Pedro and how far he seems to have drifted away from us. Ulysses says he might be living in Utah, where he can exercise his Second Amendment rights until he runs out of ammunition

Though I wrote last night via typing on my computer, and it went well, it went fast. Here I am dictating once more. I can always type again another time, but I don’t really write this or post on weekends anymore, it’s on Monday through Friday thing.

End of dictation, typing now.

Well Mike seems to have forgiven his beloved, who has cancelled on him three weekends in a row. I can only guess that the beloved can hold Mike’s ardor for more than 15 minutes. Mike said he thinks his beloved has a side piece in San Francisco, where he resides.

The bliss of being naive has Mike enthralled. He started a new job in August and thinks he can take time off from his part-time position to fly out to California at the end of the year. And he does not have a REAL ID, which is needed.

As of May 7, 2025, state-issued driver’s licenses and IDs that are not REAL ID compliant are no longer accepted as valid forms of identification at airports. I know this since members of my family intended to fly out west, but none of them had the REAL I,D so no one went out west.

Mike seems to think otherwise, and I guess I’m not going to tell him. He’ll have to find out for himself. Bill did try to hook Mike up with the proper identification over the summer, but Mike dropped the ball again.

Sheila E. The Glamorous Life