Cool Cold Reality | johnozed

Bill is laughing. He’s on the couch, we’re watching Scrubs, from the first season. Turk just used a defibrillator on a patient who was actually sleeping and woke up screaming from the electric current. Bill loves it when someone screams in a comedy. He screams in kind. A happy scream.

Last night I watched Rachel Maddow on the Keith Olbermann show. She’s great, we love her. After that I watched Dan Abrams. Just got caught in the political maelstrom I guess.

Then came Weeds which was the best episode of the season so far. Really funny and a cliff hanger at the end and good bye Albert Brooks. I can’t wait for Juan to see it.

Soon after that it was bedtime. Bill ably portrayed the lump on the left side of the bed. It was a good night’s sleep. I wound up hugging Bill at various moments in the night which was very nice. He was off to work bright and early, leaving me with a pot of coffee just waiting for me.

I was up and showered, shaved and out on the street before 7:00. Rode the bus, started the New Yorker and walked across town in the morning heat. Didn’t sweat as much as yesterday but still needed to change my t-shirt when I got to the office.

Set things up, machines running, me drying off in front of a fan. No autographs this time. The office is now occupied by 5 different companies. I am supposed to only support my company but being the office manager, everyone comes to me.

Most of the time it’s fine, they’re generally nice people. 5 companies with a total of 20 people. Not too demanding. I don’t mind helping them when asked, but I find it annoying when certain companies just expect me to be there for them, when I don’t work for them.

That was laid out last year by my boss Greg Stevens who told me, that I only work for one company. I try to help out when I can. Niva, who was let go at the end of May, called and asked if I could print out some reports that we subscribe to. It was all very hush hush.

But I printed them on a color printer and left them on my desk when the managing director saw the copies and told me to print them out in black and white, that the color copies cost a dollor a sheet. They don’t really, but he was making a point.

I told Niva when I saw her, that next time they’ll be in black and white. She didn’t care, just needed to be on top of things in the bio-technology world while she goes job hunting. She looked good with a new hair do though.

After work, a Padron 5000 and a visit to see Jesse, my Rasta buddy. Of course Jesse was late. I waited and finished my cigar and headed to the Path train where I sat in an air conditioned car and read Tweak.

Almost done with it, still harrowing, waiting for Nic Sheff to fall off the wagon. Not wanting him to, but sort of expecting it. About 100 pages left so there is plenty of time.

As we were about to enter the Hoboken station, they announced that there was a problem with a train in the station and that we were being diverted to Journal Square. That sucked.

I got off at Pavonia/Newport and waited with a crowd for the light rail back to Hoboken. Could have used another cigar but didn’t.

Walked to my building where there was another hole in the street where they were working on the water line. My building was fine, still have strong pressure.

Now I’m chillin with Bill laughing on the couch. Life is good. Time to get jazzy.

Here are some snaps from today.

Picture of tourists

Public art on Park Avenue

(your title here)

Outside my building

Big hole in the ground

This just in:
JESSE JACKSON. WHAT THE FUCK??????

Sorry about the source material. But WTF?

Well it was a fun time last night. I left here after posting and I hardly ever go out, much less on a Monday night. I walked up Washington Street towards McSwells enjoying the evening and listening to Girl Talk. I downloaded one continuous track so if I want to get to a certain mix, I have to remember the time in the track and shuffle the cursor to the proper point. I got to McSwells a little after 8:00.

Saw Rob Norris and Frank Giannini having dinner with 2 friends of theirs. They waved to me through the window as I walked and I stopped by their table and said hello. No sign of brother Frank who’s almost always late. Looking for parking could be a chore so his being tardy was easily forgiven. I got myself a Stella Artois and sat in the lounge area where the big stupid kettles used to be. People were meeting up with friends and family, I sat there eagle eyed for Frank.

As I stepped out for a smoke, I ran into Ira Kaplan in the restaurant, who mentioned my letter in Mojo Magazine from a month or so ago. It seems he was on tour and reading the magazine and laughed when he saw my letter from Hoboken. We chatted for a few minutes, then he went to catch up with other people I headed outside. Andy Peters, former sound man at McSwells back in the day followed me out.

Andy is such a sweetheart. He always was. We caught up on what we were each doing. He took my picture, so I took his. Andy is married, lives in Phoenix and just became a dad 3 weeks ago. His wife, who is so understanding, let him come back east to do the sound at McSwells as well as the big Battery Park show.

Andy has always been a nice guy, back in 1991 he would offer to drive me back to Lodi when I was living with my father for those three agonizing months. He didn’t live anywhere near Lodi. He just couldn’t stand to see me ride into the city to get a bus out of the city. I’ll never forget that.

Jim DeRogatis was there. He writes about music for the Chicago Sun Times. He was with his wife. Jim Testa of Jersey Beat was there and so was Mike Carlucci, formerly of Winter Hours. Mike used to be my guitar teacher, so if any one should be blamed for my guitar playing, talk to him.

Frank showed up and we were chatting in a corner when all of a sudden I was accosted by Meghan Taylor Mastro, still the funniest woman alive.

I love her so much as most everyone who comes in contact with her does. Her husband, my pal, Jim Mastro was there of course. Richard Barone too. It seemed every time I would turn around, another face from the past was there in my line of vision.

I said hello to Brenda and Stan from the Feelies who were both warm and happy to see me. Frank was doing well, holding his own and mingling with various people, no need for me to hover in case he gets stuck on something. It’s the worrier in me I guess. Just keeping an eye on him.

I talked to Georgia Hubley, drummer for Yo La Tengo and also Ira’s wife. I congratulated them for being part of Girl Talk’s latest. They heard about it, but haven’t heard it. Ira mentioned he talked to his publisher about any infringement but it seems Greg Gillis knows the ins and outs of free use and copyrights.

I told Ira and Georgia not to sweat it, they now have street cred. We had a good chuckle about that and I reassured him that he might not get songwriting credit per se, but the fact that Yo La Tengo was mentioned in the 4 star Rolling Stone review should be credit enough. Plus now the kids might know who Yo La Tengo is.

The Feelies soon came on, Frank was in the crowd, Meghan, Jim and myself hung near the back. I saw Bob Lawton who I hadn’t seen in ages, just waved to each other as he walked by. Barre Duryea was road manager for the Feelies and he too mentioned my letter in Mojo. It wasn’t too crowded as it was an invitation only show.

I found myself standing next to an older woman who turned out to be Brenda’s mother. She was very proud of her daughter playing bass and mentioned that it seems the Feelies might have some more life in them yet. I told her she had every reason to be proud of Brenda and that the Feelies got better when she joined. Alice Genese was there as well and she always looks good and it’s always good to see her. Scott Harbison too, not drinking even.

I was being snarky throughout the show, telling Meghan that the Feelies were masters of the slow fade out as they slowly faded out. It was a good show and a really fun time. Jim and Meghan and Frank and myself left at the same time, walking down Washington Street parting ways at Eighth, me walking Frank to his car and directing him out of a tight parking spot.

It was so good that I’m going to check them out on the Fourth of July with Sonic Youth.

The Feelies then

From left, Anton Fier, Bill Million, Glenn Mercer and Keith DeNunzio