Well it’s only Tuesday. Last night was promising to be a quiet evening at home. Bill out at some acting class, Juan totally off the radar since last week and his bailing. I almost wrote our contrempts but that requires two and I was the only one. Forget about Julio and Stine, as well. They’re a couple doing couple things. I watched Big Love which I really enjoyed a lot, despite the sad ending. I watched a documentary about Rembrandt which was very good, but it was on while I was writing so it obviously didn’t have my full attention.

Bill texted me as he was on the bus home. I sat and watched TV, reading the rest of Mojo magazine when Bill walked in, so happy to be home. Kisses back and forth and I went back to reading as he unloaded his bags. A few minutes later he asked if I could call his phone, which usually means he’s misplaced his. I called, he looked. I called again, he kept looking. Eventually it dawned on him that he must have left it on the bus which sucks. He has the National Anthem to sing on Friday at Madison Square Garden and was hoping to get in touch with his contacts.

Bill left the apartment to try to get the bus he rode in on, but it was too late. He was fucked. I felt terrible for what he was going through. But there was nothing I could do except to go to bed. Didn’t fall asleep right away, more than likely that was because of all the caffeine I had in the morning when I got to the office since I barely had any when I left the apartment. Bill came in dejected and upset with himself, and I tried to make him feel better but he wasn’t having it.

He was up and out of the apartment this morning as I struggled to get out of bed. Bill made some coffee for me, this time it was safe to drink. I showered, had some cereal checked the mail and before you know it, I was almost late for the bus. I caught the comfortable bus with the usual nameless youngsters, and I passed Lou Carbone outside the coffee shop on Washington Street. I’ve known of him for years, and thought he was sexy at one time, but he’s a Lothario of sorts with the ladies. I always thought of him as the Leonard Cohen of the Hoboken artsy set. In 25 years of being in Hoboken I doubt if I said anything to him at anytime.

Work was quiet, Greg Stevens out at a golf function upstate somewhere. I chatted with Miriam online. Hadn’t seen her in ages. Her baby is getting big much to her dismay. She should have taken my gold fish advice under consideration. A fish will grow to the size of it’s environment, so why wouldn’t a baby? It was great to chat with her though.

One cool thing I did today was go to the Kwik-E Mart on w42nd Street. I read about Joe. My. God. going to the store and I almost went myself after work yesterday, but decided it would probably be less crowded in the morning. It was decidedly less crowded. Only myself and two young women in the store. I took some pics, bought two Squishee cups, two Buzz colas and two pink donuts which didn’t last though the day.

That’s it. Here are some pics of that adventure.

The Kwik-E-Mart on 42nd Street

MMmmmmm Pink Donuts…..

Bart

Apu

Ralph Wiggum

It’s Friday. Last week at this time I had just gotten back from the beach with Annemarie, Earl and Corinne, getting ready to go to Brian’s surprise party for his upcoming 50th birthday and when you think of it, 50 birthdays is an accomplishment. Annemarie sadly reminded me of last week’s fact. And once again, I’m solo, meaning lonely. Juan blew me off last night, figuratively, not literally and I didn’t think that was too cool. Bill was at his folks. I watched Jean Pierre Melville’s Army of Shadows, a film about the French resistance in World War 2.

I had the time and no distractions so I could watch a subtitled film without being bothered. Can’t really do that when anyone else is around. Someone always has questions about what happened, what will happened, or why did they do that which breaks the flow of the movie. Plus I had the film since May so it was high time I watched it. It was worth watching, though it didn’t live up to the hype that I read about last year when it was released for the first time in the US. It was made in 1968 and never made it to the States for some odd reason.

Woke up in a big bed all by my lonesome. Got out of bed and did the shower, cereal, coffee routine. Got the bus, more Andrew Loog Oldham stories. I got my fix of music mags, since both the new Mojo and Uncut came out. That’s my life. I’m excited that magazines are here. Oh I used to be exciting. I used to go out more often. But then again, I did go out the other night with Bill and Billie and that was fun. There was a time when I would do that most every night. Sometimes I’d go from West 48th Street and 7th Avenue, go down to the Lower East side for a few hours and then somehow make it home to Weehawken. Then again, I was working in the music business and partying was something that was done. Now I am done.

Thirty years ago today was the big blackout in New York City. I was 14 years old and living a relatively innocent existence. I was at the neighbor’s, the Williams’ family, watching TV with the youngest, Scott. Then all of a sudden, the screen went to static. I think we played Gnip Gnop, some silly 1970’s game or was it Othello? That would explain why Scott was in blackface.

New York City was still a terrifying concept which was reinforced the next day, looking at the newspapers and the news on TV which was being broadcast somewhere outside the city. Lot’s of looting, and Son of Sam still roaming the streets. It did back up my parent’s belief that the city was full of animals, and perhaps at that time, they were right.

This weekend, I was invited up to Otisville to visit Pedro and save him from rural boredom. That’s doable. Or I might take a bike ride, which I haven’t done in weeks. The weather might be good for that and that might be good for my doldrums. I also have to send a load of pictures taken while Annemarie, Rex and Earl were here. But it’s Friday, and I’m enjoying cocktail hour. Bill’s working overtime, Juan is MIA, Julio and Stine return from Denmark on Sunday and I just picked up their laundry, sheets and pillowcases and towels. I hope they’re bringing me some Cuban cigars, but he did that a few years ago, and it cost Julio a bundle and he regretted it I think. Maybe he’s forgotten. Maybe Stine would suggest it. Or maybe not.

It’s also Friday the 13th.