A beautiful autumn Sunday afternoon. Air is crisp in the 60 degree range. Warmer on the street than it is in the apartment. Everything pretty mellow after devouring a lot of meat at dinner with the soon to be (April 15th they’ve been told) parents, Julio and Stine. It really is a thrill to hear. Probably thrilling for them as well, as well as filled with anxiety and expectation, hence the term, she’s expecting I suppose. They got me good. I don’t know why a few friends of mine always have to surprise me with things, like Bill renting a Zip Car when we saw the B-52’s in Brooklyn last August, and now with Stine and Julio having a baby, they just can’t come out and say, ‘I rented a car’ or ‘We’re having a baby’. I’m not complaining, not at all. It’s an entertainment and it affords them the chance to get one over on me.

I watched Saturday Night Live last night, it was pretty good. Two music sets by Bon Jovi versus one by the Foo Fighters. I guess it’s all good. Not a Bon Jovi fan though I’ve met him and he’s alright, just another Jersey guy. He’s the cousin of my friend Barry Bongiovi and Jon stopped by Right Track studios to visit Barry (who I’ve always had a crush on).It was a good show and the digital SNL short was the highlight of the show once again. The Three Guys from New Jersey game show was pretty good and nearly spot on. From there it was trying to fall asleep next to Bill snoring as if sawing through granite. His words not mine.

I woke up and called Julio as I headed to that Bagel shop and asked if he and the missus wanted any bagels, which was a very slight payback for Julio and Stine taking me out for a belated birthday dinner. They did and I bought, dropping them off after a visit to the supermarket. Lynda, the older cashier who reminds Annemarie of our Nana, aka our grandmother made a motion for me to come to her register, needing to ask me a question. I walked over and she asked me what should she do about her cat who won’t eat canned food, only dry food. I didn’t know what to tell her except that if the cat’s female dry food is no problem, it’s spayed male cats that have a problem with dry food. I remembered that because my late cat Zed, (best cat in the whole wide world EVER) had the exact same problem back in the day.

Dropped off Stine and Julio’s bagels and headed up two flights where I had coffee and read the papers, full of usual nonsense and bad news. It was too nice a day to stay in and I was itching to go out, specifically to go to Farfetched and see Harpy who always works on Sundays. I walked to the Path train, past where the dog parade had occurred, gingerly stepping around several left behind clumps on the sidewalks.

Got off at Christopher Street since I didn’t want to deal with the crowds on 14th Street. Strolled past new buildings that weren’t there last time I had been around. Washington Square was crowded in various pockets, chess player and crap weed dealers over here, drum circle over there, dance troupe next to them across from Buzz Universe, a jam band going electric as people mingled around or sat and read their text books in the mid afternoon sun.

I made my way up Fourth Avenue to Farfetched to find Harpy not in session but Lois who switched off with Harpy yesterday. I picked out some cards for upcoming birthdays, though I have to say the selection has been a bit lacking lately. I used to find so many cards, now it’s a struggle to find 3 cards for me to send. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s them. It can’t be the customer is always right, since I work there on occasion so I’m not really a customer.

My being there allowed Lois to eat some lunch, so I rang up some customers for a little while, then after chit chatting I headed out, lighting a Padron and checking out the inhabitants of Union Square. I decided to walk up Broadway to Fifth Avenue then to 32nd street so I can finish my cigar and get a seat on the Path train home.

And now I am home, tired from walking around but feeling good.

Somehow I wound up taking 77 pictures while walking around the city, here are but a few of them.

Beautiful afternoon

Mrs. Pink Hair and friend enjoying a droll stroll

Lackawanna Tower in Hoboken

Bagpiper on Christopher Street

Fiddle, accordion, boy, girl dog butt

Two for the seesaw

Enn Why ewers

Hooded Literacy

Second Date

Foiled by a map (not to scale)

Cutie never calls…

Farfetched Halloween

From under the chimes

Christmas Ornaments

Madman by Union Square

For her, it’s all about his dreads

Coke dealer

Holding up the wall

Lost again

Looking for trouble

Trouble

Looking out for number 9

Walk that way

Back in Hoboken
Court Street

Bikers

Balloons

The late, great Zed

It’s Saturday and a lot later than usual. Been an interesting day to say the least. Last night was pretty mellow. I napped after posting my blog in the middle of the afternoon, leaving me spent over the keyboard. Napped for about two hours. Felt fuzzy and hungry when I woke up and had a tuna sandwich which sort of hit the spot. Still peckish though and when Bill texted me on his way home from the city later in the evening he asked if I needed anything from the store and I replied, ‘I Scream’. He offered to get Edy’s but they don’t carry that on Washington Street, so he wound up get Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie which hit the spot for sure and left me satisfied for the rest of the night.

The rest of the night was filled with TV and Bill Maher. One was better than the other though I couldn’t exactly tell you what was what just that Paul Krugman from the New York Times, a good liberal voice was on as well as Joy Behar from the View and the eternally insufferable Tucker Carlson who I really want to punch in the throat. I find the Lady Carlson just so fucking smug, such a busy little know it all, the type that got their heads handed to them in high school and sometimes deservedly so. At least Tucker (so aptly named for tucking his nearly non existent genitals between his well powdered thighs) isn’t wearing those god damned bow ties that just screamed, ‘Beat the shit out of me.” After that it was some Scrubs and some Simpsons before I turned in, falling asleep next to Bill’s braying snoring somehow.

I had emailed Julio earlier in the week, asking if he was planning on going to Marty’s Shoe Outlet anytime soon, and also asked in a roundabout way if he could possibly help with a ceiling fan problem that I have in my kitchen as well as perhaps knowing something about changing a knob on the washing machine, also in the kitchen. He called back today in response to the email. No to Marty’s, not doable, at least not this weekend. As for the ceiling fan, he would have to see for himself he supposed, and for the knob on the ashing machine, why don’t I simply look up online to see whether or not replacement parts could be had somehow. I didn’t think of that actually. He was surprised at that since I can almost always be found where I am now, next to a computer looking things up. Good advice from Julio.

I did some laundry today, manipulating the spot where the knob was with a pair of pliers. Also took a blade off the ceiling fan since a screw had fallen from the fan leaving the whole thing inoperable. I walked to the hardware store and asked the guy for two screws that matched the one screw that I brought with me from the fan. I was in and out and it only cost me 27 cents. Of course putting the screws back in proved impossible for me, even after a few honest attempts. Gave up on that and figured I wouldn’t be using the fan anytime soon. Tried looking up online for some info regarding a knob for the washing machine. I didn’t have the serial number so I was up shit’s creek without a knob.

I wound up cleaning up the apartment somewhat, throwing out a printer that I haven’t used in years and also got a haircut from Mr. L’s on the corner, courtesy of Tony. It was late in the day, at least later than I usually get my haircuts on a Saturday. Julio called when I got back, he and Stine had been busy doing their thing, he working on apartments in West New York, she shopping in Edgewater and doing laundry at Julio’s mother’s house. He asked me how my chores had gone and I explained to a laughing Julio, who I sort of known, would come upstairs and do the job properly, correctly and a lot less time that I would have taken.

He fixed the fan in no time flat but couldn’t do anything for the washing machine knob. He did ask what I was doing for dinner and since I wasn’t doing anything I said I wasn’t doing anything. He invited me to join him and Stine at a Portuguese restaurant in Newark. It sounded good to me especially since I hadn’t seen either one of them in what seemed to be months. He left my apartment and I joined them about 20 minutes later after talking to brother Brian for a few minutes. Everything was hunky dory in Bergen County for Brian and his family, at least as much as he could have told me since everything else was to be kept within his immediate family.

I joined Julio and Stine and we were on the Road to Newark in no time. We sat in the restaurant and Julio and Stine told me this was on them as a belated birthday present. That was cool. I decided to order Prime Rib but the waiter decided that a T Bone steak would be better. I reluctantly agreed as Julio and I had Stella Artois and Stine had a cranberry juice, holding off on some wine until her entree. We ordered and sat and talked and ate our hickory smoked Portuguese sausage. After Julio and I finished our beers, Julio suggested wine or sangria for the entrees.

Sangria was fine and as the pitcher arrived, Stine made a toast, raising her glass to her lips she wished me a happy birthday, belated of course, and Julio chimed in, calling me Uncle Johnny. That took me back for a spell when I figured it out, Stine is with child. She didn’t drink the sangria, merely put it near her lips, to prolong the charade. Apparently I’m the first outside of their family to know.

I am so happy for them, I am thrilled. They’re going to be great parents and my head still spins at the thought that Julio, who I’ve known for 20 years is going to be a dad. I am really happy for the both of them.

Here’s some pics!

Stine

Julio

Flaming Sausage!

Stine and Julio

Turk…I mean Julio and Me

The parents to be

the child at 3 months