johnozed

About johnozed

I'm 50+ years old, 210-ish#, 6'2", reddish blonde, blue eyes with glasses (and without) masculine, funny, relatively intelligent, enjoy the company of assorted friends and family especially sordid friends and family. I love music, reading, writing, conversing, laughing, going to films, shows, concerts and smoking cigars. And I also enjoy looking nice in a suit and tie. Looking more like Lewis Lapham than Tom Wolfe. I'm sure there is more, but we'll just have to find out when I write about it. In a lifetime relationship with partner Bill Vila.

I never really cared for Joy Division, though I did prefer New Order. Maybe I just didn’t like Ian Curtis’ voice. I still don’t. Maybe 2 or 3 songs by Joy Division and that’s about it. Right now I seem to be ina Manchester bands mood, mainly the big 3. New Order, The Fall and The Smiths. But that is most definitely neither here nor there. So since I have nothing at all worthwhile to say, it’s time for some navel gazing, or for a certain few, navel grazing.

November 2, 2005 was all about Sandra Bullock. That was when I was being kind about the one later called Bleedin’ Hope. It was definitely a stretch and true to my old self, I lurched into surrealist territory. That’s where I found my bearings when I was but a twenty something youth in Asia. The Sandra Bulwark was last spotted in San Francisco selling hand bags and glad rags to women with too much money. I gave up the ghost years ago and her mention here is merely a byproduct of what happened 6 years ago with my Breton inspired pen.

November 2, 2006 had me working at Wolff Olins, getting out early to see a dentist who gave me quite an exorbitant estimate for some work. I balked and skipped away and came home and readied myself to see the Slits at Maxwells that night. The Slits were phenomenal and I regret today not going up to Ari Up and thanking her for everything she had done for me and for music. I was quite happy to see them and it was a good evening at Maxwells, seeing a few old pals. The future was still relatively bright.

November 2, 2007 had me working in midtown again on a ship which later turned out to be the Lusitania. I was catching buses at 7:10 in the morning which seems far out to me now, though of course I would be willing to do it again if the job was right. Forget about the money being right, it’s all about the job. Harpy broke his heel a few weeks previously in 2007 and I ventured up to Washington Heights to see the fabulous invalid. A case of beer and a few packs of Marlboros is what I brought. I should visit him again, but that would involve actually going somewhere besides work or my apartment.

November 2, 2008 was mainly a review of the B-52’s show at the Hammerstein Ballroom the night before. It was a Sunday so it was definitely before I stopped writing on Sundays. Bill and I had a drink at a pre-fab Irish pub nearby and I was wearing my Obama as Superman shirt which got a lot of compliments. The show was great, Bill and I were buzzing and dancing. Keith Strickland reminded everyone to Barack the Vote which a great majority of us actually did.

November 2, 2009 had me wallowing in unemployment. No jobs to be had despite my endless searching which carries on somewhat to this day. The post has something resembling a political slant, as well as my decision to vote for Jon Corzine and definitely not for Chris Christie. That didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. Some wandering around Hoboken occurred as well and that also carries on to this day.

November 2, 2010 had some computer problems which probably gave Bill the idea to get me a new computer for Christmas rather than have me use his Mac which still rarely gets used. Three candidates in other states lost their elections, people that I did not care for in Connecticut, New York and Delaware. I wrote about some people at Guggenheim Partners who interviewed me a few times and opted for a door stop instead. I was bitter but I got over it, and changed their names. And once again it was the day before Juan’s birthday. Juan might just make an appearance tomorrow, but we shall see about that in due time.

A day off tomorrow which should be good for all concerned.

Also, totally unrelated to the relatable, as an artist he is a good cigar seller.
06 – The End of the World

Well after a good night’s sleep with minimal trips to the lavatory I woke up relatively refreshed after silent bargaining with the alarm clock. It was an interesting sleep, more dreams with regards to people I hadn’t seen in decades.

A side note, Ken Mallia popped up on my Facebook friends list, you know, people you may know who are friends of friends last week. He looks heavier and a lot like his dad who was quite a funny character.

I was up and about shuffling through the apartment a few hours after Bill gave me quite a passionate send before he left. Some coffee to be made, cereal in the bowl with milk and a hot shower waiting. Then I got myself together and checked mail, watched the Daily Show and The Colbert Report from last night and soon I was walking up the street to the bus stop.

While waiting for the bus I noticed smoke billowing down 5th Street. I went to check it out but did not see any fire, just smoke. A minute or so later four or five fire trucks were barreling down Washington Street, just a few doors up from the bus stop. No idea where the fire was, or even if there was a fire. If there was it was under control by the time the firemen arrived.

My bus driver maneuvered around the fire trucks and we made it to the next stop where my neighbor Deborah got on board. She noticed I wasn’t on the bus yesterday and figured I might have taken an earlier bus. I gave her a sanitized version of Monday, leaving out the gross points. We did share a chuckle about the twin doctors whom her boyfriend doesn’t like as well.

An easy ride through the tunnel and soon we were parting ways at the bus terminal. A quick subway ride uptown and soon I was in the vicinity of the cigar shack. I wasn’t at 100% but close to it. A nice chat with Zack in the shack and soon Jerry Vale joined the cast of characters. The usual rogue’s gallery was ensconced in the man cave already smoking up a storm. It’s been getting crowded earlier and they never leave.

Zack had a late lunch which made my lunch an hour later and made Jerry Vale’s lunch, dinner. Nevertheless I was determined to go outside for my hour and sit and read. And I did just that, rereading Please Kill Me, by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain, a book about the early days of New York City Punk Rock, starting with Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground. I read it in the 1990’s and it still is an enjoyable read.

Then it was back to work and much to my surprise I was taking the lead in sales once again. And the numbers came out for October, the cigar shack doing much better than predicted. Thomas grabbed the lion’s share but still there was enough to go around for all of us, except for Jerry Vale since he is but a mere part timer.

15 – ’til