Saturday, August 17, 2024. Had a good bike ride, a bit faster (?) than usual. Not much of a rest this time around, I was riding for the sake of it. I slept a little bit later than usual, not getting out of bed at 9:00 AM but sleeping in a little bit more.

I had a dream where a younger Bill with horrendous eyewear was leaving me. It was a distressing dream and made me very sad. I told Bill about it and he laughed it off since it was absurd. Totally made up of fragments of long ago that have nothing to do with what passes for real life today.

I did my usual Saturday grocery shopping at Shop Rite where they’re really trying to cut contact with customers. More sel-checkout, only 2 populated registers and there were lines forming at each cashier. This is how it’s going to be. I don’t like the layout of the store but they are not going to change it back for me.

There was a guy before me at a lone self-checkout so I maintained a respectful distance as he took items out of his bag and scanned them before putting them back in his bag. He eyed me suspiciously and I thought that was because I was not looking at my phone. He skedaddled and I took my cart to the scanner.

An employee told me I couldn’t use this checkout since it was for the supercarts that tally up your items when you take them off the shelf and put them in your supercart. I mentioned the guy before just used it and she explained that was because she didn’t have a chance to prevent his paying for groceries.

As this little chat went on I was scanning my items. She said I could not do that because what if a supercart came up. I looked around and I was safe and not blocking the exchange of capital and data for anyone with a supercart. I also explained to her that the more she delays me from doing my own capital exchange could hinder the progress of the arrival of a supercart.

There was also a supercart manager giving me the hairy eyeball. I was able to jet on out of there and realized that to these people I was just another cranky old white guy. Which was the guy before me as well. We do not travel in packs.

After chilling out with Bill for an hour or two, I put on the bike shorts and helmet and gather my items for an afternoon bicycle ride. When I headed down the front steps with my Unique Lotus bike on my shoulder I noticed some drying raindrops on the steps and sidewalk. I hesitated for a second but decided to go ahead.

I felt a few more raindrops as I rode down the block and as I headed south toward Jersey City, opted to turn back. As I turned back I turned back again and was back on my usual route to Liberty State Park. No frills, just a 5-minute break under the tree I like and soon I was back in Hoboken.

I’m glad I did it since it did not rain until about an hour after I had climbed the four flights of steps, my knees mumbling loudly.

People I know. Known some for a long time, others for not so long a time. Four people from my past died last year. Hadn’t seen them or spoken to them in ages but still hearing of their passing was a bit of a shock.

The one that I first knew in the 1970’s was William Vignola. His father and my father were World War 2 veterans and members of the same VFW in Saddle Brook NJ. William’s mother and my mother usually accompanied their husbands to the watering hole of Post 3484. New Year’s Eve was a big event at the VFW (and elsewhere I reckon).

William was too young to be left alone and so was my brother Brian and me so someone had the bright idea to have William, Brian, and myself all together at the Vignola house for the night. Plenty of soda and snacks and we were able to stay up to midnight unsupervised.

William was a year or two younger than me and I was five years younger than Brian. William had some of the coolest new toys and games too. Time went on and I saw less and less of William.

The last time I recall was at a barbecue at his parent’s house. William got involved with the music world and wound up being Tommy Lee from Motley Crue’s assistant. He was even on Tommy Lee’s TV show but I never got around to seeing “Vig” on it since I didn’t have cable. And let’s face it, I could care less for Tommy Lee or Motley Crue.

Then there was Pattie Kleinke. I used to see her at Maxwell’s at various shows. She was a big REM fan and even published a fanzine on them. One night while leaving Maxwell’s I saw her outside waiting for a cab. I was headed back to Lodi and offered her a ride.

She lived in Weehawken and it wasn’t too far out of my way. Up the hill to Weehawken and I dropped her off on Jane Street early one morning. Later, in 1991 I heard from my dear friend Charlie that an apartment in Pattie’s house was available. Charlie saw it and found it to be too much of a fixer-upper. He suggested I look at it since living in Lodi with my father for a few months, I was in a desperate spot.

Charlie suggested that his brother William and I move in since it was large enough so one night we looked at it and decided right then and there that we would move in. I’d say maybe 90% of the time it was a really good situation.

William and I would bump heads every now and then and not speak with each other for a few days. It was a large enough apartment so avoiding each other could be accomplished mostly. The rent was incredibly cheap too.

In 2000 I met Bill and he started coming over and spending the night. One night we were watching Saturday Night Live and Bill was laughing so hard he fell off the couch. He does that a lot, it’s adorable. Pattie and her brother Fred who lived underneath us didn’t find it adorable and issued an ultimatum, in writing.

Due to it being unfair to them and not to mention my long-suffering roommate, William, Bill was only allowed over one or two nights a week. The writing was on the stationery as well as the wall and I felt it was time to move on after 11 years.

Pattie and Fred watched me move out and were greatly upset that I didn’t knock on their door to say thank you and goodbye. Loquacious Fred stated I was lucky the door didn’t hit me on the ass when I was leaving. It was probably the first and only time he got to say something as butch as that and I thought it hilarious. Probably said it while he was in the bathtub. TWKWK.

Then there was Kevin Craughn. The first time I met Kevin was at a party that two friends were having. More of a hang-out than a party though. A mutual friend was there in the midst of a nervous breakdown but nobody knew that then and thought they were having a bad acid experience.

Kevin was the brother of friends of ours and he lived with them a few doors down from Maxwell’s. He also started working at Maxwell’s where he was a beloved character to some and quite a character to others. We fought and argued a few times, he pissed me off quite a bit.

I moved in with him in what can now be described as a hovel across the street from my first apartment a few years before. We lived together for maybe a year before we were forced out. Time moved on, I stopped hanging out at Maxwell’s and saw less of Kevin.

I did see him at a birthday party for yet another mutual friend and was stunned to see that Kevin had put on quite a few pounds, so much so that I called him the Kingpin from the comic books and he didn’t like that.

We would talk on the phone every now and then, and at first it was funny. He was a terrible gossip and soon I found things that I mentioned to him coming back to me from someone else. It didn’t end well and we did not speak again.

Finally, there was Doreen Galante. She was from Staten Island and quite a looker with an amazing head of hair and a beautiful face and smile. A nice person at an awful job that I had for a few years. She always said she was on my side and anything I said to her would be in confidence though she was good friends with the office manager who I would complain about.

Whether or not she maintained that confidence I don’t know. She hated that idiot president too, so we were 2 blue specks in what was more than likely an angel dustbowl of red. But my memories of Doreen are generally kind.

They all died last year, 2023.