10.8.05 “To be insulted by these fascists, is so degrading….”

Well here it is a gray day in Hoboken. Had fun all by myself last night, and now paying a price, on the installment plan. Have a wedding to attend in Chelsea, on a boat. Cheryl Welch, former neighbor and widow of Don Brody, is getting hitched. Jim Mastro is officiating so that should give it a fun vibe. That means Meghan will be there with her Supergirls. It is pissing outside right now. Not a good day for a boat, though it will be docked. I was tempted to have some hair of the dog, and made arrangements, which I wisely cancelled. The problem with that particular dog, is that while you are feeling good, mind dashing all over the place, the crash is full of self-loathing and boy did I feel that last night.
I did sleep for about 6 hours, and then I ran some errands but not operating at 100%. But considering all I have to do is eat, and drink it should be no problem.
Bowie is screaming at me about Scary Monsters, which gives me a fast flashback to 1980, and sitting in the first row, watching Dave in The Elephant Man. Little did I know that 17 years later I’d work with him. That still gives me a tingle.
Have to get in my suit. Decided on the Andrew Fezza, with the tie and cufflinks Bill gave me for my birthday. And rubber soled shoes because of the bleedin rain. Talked to a few hot men, including the one who is probably going to read this. That was a fun chat, started out very hot, ended up with a literary chat. That never happens. I do hope his luncheon went off without a hitch.
I also chatted with Rocky who accidentally sent me a cock pic. I may go see him after the wedding, or I may not. Could be trouble if I go, and he has no phone to confirm his whereabouts….so common sense would dictate that I do not go.
Just go to the wedding, have fun and come home. Simple and safe plan, no?
“Ain’t got no money and I ain’t got no hair…”
I am not going to be Major Tom. Not me. No sir.
Just taking my time. No waiting for the man, so no need to hustle. I don’t have to be the first guest at the wedding. I could make an entrance, though by just showing up in this rainstorm would be dramatic enough. I am debating whether or not to take the ferry or the train. The ferry though costly is nearer to the function, though the water is probably very choppy. And after the Lake George boat tragedy last week, it might not be a good idea. The trains would drop me off 6 city blocks from where the wedding is. But I’d rather be above ground….yet on the water. Time to get active. Spent enough time fartin around and lickin my wounds. Wish me luck.
10.8.05

10.7.05 The Return

Last Night, Bill and I went to The Society for Ethical Culture on the Upper West Side. The event was “An Evening of American Satire”, with Art Buchwald, Barry Crimmins, Paul Krassner, Lewis Lapham, and Kurt Vonnegut. Bill’s cousin who works in publishing originally had the tickets and he and Bill were supposed to go. But his cousin couldn’t make it, so I was next on the list I think.

It definitely turned out to be a pretty good evening. All the speakers were good and were introduced by Sarah Jones who was in an off-Broadway show a few years ago called “Bridge and Tunnel”. She was excellent and I made a note to catch her next show, whenever and wherever it may be.

Each writer was entertaining in his own way, and Bill and I agreed that Lewis Lapham was the best dressed. Good to see someone on the left being a great dresser. Lewis said during the Q&A following the main part that a writer should write everyday much like a piano player plays everyday. It struck a chord within me.

Afterwards walking to the subway, we passed a side entrance where we saw Mr. Lapham steeping out for a smoke. I had just lit my cigar and we stopped. I thanked Mr. Lapham for his advice for a writer. He mentioned how Balzac and Kipling and Greene wrote. Totally different styles, yet the main thing is that they wrote everyday. Some wrote 500 words and that was all, some wrote a page. But the main part is to write. Everyday.

And so, that is what I resolve to do. Hence this being the first of many pages of things to write.

Earlier in the week I had gone to see Paul McCartney. Paul was unbelievably fantastic. At several points during the show, I found tears streaming down my face. Tears of joy, to be able to see the man who co wrote so many songs that are part of my DNA. Julio who came to the show agreed that it was quite the fantastic show. The rest of the week was all about Beatles and Macca songs.

I also met Song2. A friend that I had been chatting with online thru gay.com. I think he has a thing for me, but the feeling isn’t mutual. I like him a lot, he’s a real sweet guy, though he denies this. I have yet to see the other side of it.

I’ll write more down the line about Paul McCartney and Song2, but I do thank Mr. Lapham for his inspiration. Just a few syllables, but they certainly had gone a long way and rest in my heart. I intend to keep this up. I really do.
10.7.05