Category Archives: Abstract Absurdist Otherness

Read it and weep! I’ve published and now, I be damned! There are some diamonds in this coal. Proceed with cautious carelessness.

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It’s Sunday and though it’s beautiful day, there is a feeling of anticipation in my gut. More like anxiety. It comes and goes, not a constant thing. As long as my mind is occupied I’m fine.

Last night I watched discs 3 & 4 of a series from the 1970’s called ‘All You Need is Love- The story of Popular Music’. It went back to the beginning of the 20th century with vaudeville and Tin Pan Alley up to about 1975 with the cutting edge music of Black Oak Arkansas.

It did have a lot of footage that if I hadn’t seen before, then I saw it when this series was first broadcast on PBS in the 1970’s and if that’s the case, I had forgotten I had seen it.

3 hours each disc. I watched disc 5 this morning into the afternoon, so ask me anything about Black Oak Arkansas. You’d still get the dumbfounded look that I would have given you then. I’m glad I watched it, but it was a bit much.

I gladly walked to the Post Office, enjoying a cigar to drop off the Netflix discs. I actually bought a book the other day, I couldn’t resist. I was reading somewhere about a biography on Brian Eno and ordered it promptly.

So far, up to chapter 2 and it’s a very entertaining and informative read. Brian Eno has always been a fascinating person in my world. I even had the pleasure of meeting him when I worked at Skyline Studios and he was producing some things for Laurie Anderson.

He was a nice guy, very quiet and startled me a few times when he suddenly would be standing right next to me. He was also quite kind enough to sign his first 4 solo albums and Ambient Volumes 1-4 and a book.

Still within reach and in good condition too. Last night, Saturday Night Live was really funny, excepting the Jimmy Fallon guest spot as Barry Gibb which was about 25 years too late and 10 minutes too long.

I doubt that the 20 somethings that watch it or are the target demographic would actually get the joke.

The stand out bit was the digital short with Andy Samberg and Justin Timberlake reprising their roles from Dick in a Box and becoming Mother Lovers for Mother’s Day. Susan Sarandon and Patricia Clarkson played the mothers. It was very laugh out loud funny.

I was up until 1:30 reading Uncut magazine. Did not want to get out of bed this morning, just so comfortable. Bill was off to get his mother and bring her to church. I eventually did get out of bed around 8:30 and was soon getting the Sunday morning supplements.

Then after reading the papers I watched the discs and headed out to mail them back. And after enjoying a cigar I met Bill on the street and we just enjoyed a pizza from Grimaldi’s courtesy of Bill’s largess.

Now he catnaps on the couch and I sit a few feet away writing this and playing selected ambient Eno tracks for his napping pleasure.

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The Perfect Kiss

Well today was better than yesterday and that’s good. Nice to start off on a positive note. Ending on a positive note is another matter entirely.

The mellowness was from the fact that Vivek and Sanjay were in India and not coming back to the States until Wednesday, meaning they won’t be in until Thursday which is my last day of the week I think.

I say I think because I think Vivek is expecting me to work 5 days a week, which will be nice to get that money again, and also it means that the cleaning of the hallway will be done on Saturday or Sunday.

That’s not so bad. We shall see when Vivek returns.

I had a good talk with Greg Stevens and he was totally supportive of my situation, having dealt with Vivek for a number of years. His advice was very much the same as Annemarie’s and Harpy’s, hang in there. I don’t have much choice but to hang in there.

I’ve been hanging in there for so long that I am considered well hung.

Tomorrow I’m supposed to be going to Avenel with Abby. For what, I don’t know. He’s supposed to be picking me up here in Hoboken so that saves me a commute. That should make for an interesting experience.

I was planning on writing the other day about my driving experiences. I’m giving it a shot tonight. In 1981, a friend of mine, Perry Dedovitch and I had an idea to move to Los Angeles.

Perry had family there and he made arrangements to stay in Canoga Park. Perry had a van and we decided to drive Route 80 to Utah, then whatever highway would take us to Southern California.

It wasn’t that pleasant a trip. The northern route was dull, it took most of a day to get through Pennsylvania, the Pennsylvania Turnpike was a four lane highway, two lanes going east and west.

We made it through to Ohio and parked in a campground in the middle of the night. We were on the road the next day, looking at nothing but corn as we drove though Indiana, Illinois and Iowa.

We slept in Nebraska and I got into a fight with Perry almost abandoning me in Nebraska when the van’s cassette player ate one of my tapes. After that we made it to Utah, sleeping in Beaver.

Then it was onto Southern California, getting a room in Alhambra after sitting in traffic for a few hours. In Canoga Park I found Perry’s family were nice, a little rough around the edges though.

We realized once we got there that everyone travels to Los Angeles to start all over again and we weren’t so special. It was a weird couple of weeks that also included a trip to Las Vegas were I lost all the money I had.

That was also the last time I gambled, not counting playing the lottery. It was one of the stupider weekends in my life.

Our money and dreams were depleted and we headed back to New Jersey, driving the same route, only this time it was nonstop.

I went back to work, and eventually got Perry his job back in the same warehouse. 6000 miles in about a month.

I wouldn’t recommend it, but it did get me the courier position when it became available a few months later.

Perry betrayed me a year or so later and I never spoke to him again.