Sunday night coming down. That’s for Kris Kristofferson. He died yesterday. Kris Kristofferson wrote Sunday Morning Coming Down. I found out he passed away this afternoon. I’m wary about this turning into an obituary blog, what with Maggie Smith the other day, another bold-faced name.

It’s been another rainy day today, the first weekend in months that I did not go bike riding. I’m not too happy about it. Roads are wet, vehicles tend to slide into stops. Bicycles too. Everything is wet and the sky is gray. I’m sure the yellow grass in Liberty State Park is turning green for the time being, before going to whatever color it gets during the autumn and winter.

I slept well last night, and dreamt of Corey Williams and Susan Sher, separately yet in the same part of Herald Square around 37th Street and Sixth Avenue where Skyline studios used to be which is where I first met Corey Williams.

At one point in a dream, Bill and I were sitting near Susan who was heading back to NJ. I asked for a ride back but she said no, ‘didn’t I remember last time?’ It seems Bill and I were too large for her car which may have been a two-seater.

She did have a two-seater at one point, I remember going to a party my dear friend Jet was having up on Washington Terrace in the Heights. Susan drove while Rand sat in my lap. It was highly unsafe but we didn’t know any better, we were in our twenties.

It drizzled most of the day today and Hoboken had its Autumn Art & Music Festival. It was a dreary turnout. They did have a raid date just in case but most of these vendors would be in another location during the rain date and they had probably been planning this for weeks if not months.

Rock & Roll is not the predominant music anymore so it was different types of music, salsa, bluegrass, and R&B. It’s all good and if the weather was better they probably would have had a better crowd. I made it a point for Bill and me to do a walk through and it was worthwhile, though seeing a set up for L’Orange Merde was as offputting as one could expect.

We came home and caught up on the shows we watch together, Saturday Night Live, John Oliver Last Week Tonight, and Jeopardy, as well as the Jon Stewart episode of The Daily Show. Bill is back to work tomorrow so he’s in bed already.

I too am back to work again and we’ll see how that goes. Last week was OK, not the best but not the worst either. I just have to keep my head down and do the work. Also to watch what I say and how I say it. It was three years ago that my sweet friend Juan passed away.

He was a good kid and always had a good time. I wish I was more active for him, like going to his favorite bar in Jersey City. Instead, I stayed in. The last time I saw Juan was in January 2021 when I was working at the dreaded Trader Joe’s.

I was so happy to see him that I took off my mask and gave him a kiss as well as a hug. Promises were made to keep in touch but we know how that often goes. My birthday came and went with no word from Juan but I wasn’t hung up on that.

His birthday came in November and I looked him up with a Google search. I don’t know why I didn’t use the social medias to check him off but a Google search offered his obituary from September 29.

I was gutted. It was like he died twice, once in September and also when I found out. 33 tears old. Much, much too young. I miss him and hope to write more about him some other time. He does feature often in the earlier postings from 15 years ago.

Saturday night. Rainy day. No bike riding. Not much walking around. Supermarket jaunt and that was about it. The type of weather, where even if you had an umbrella you would get wet since the air was mostly mist, a lot of mist.

Bill was off on the road again though he will return tomorrow and we can spend the day together. The Hoboken Art & Music Fair is scheduled but the rain might be a tiny bit better than today. They also have a rain date scheduled for next Sunday should they have to do that.

I just got off the phone with Bill. He’s out somewhere in the wilds of New Jersey. He expects to be home in the early morning, meaning 1 or 2 AM. I will be sleeping I hope. That has been fleeting lately. A full restful sleep.

I am tempted to take an Ibuprofen PM which will definitely put me under but I am wary, plus I was planning to do that on Sunday night so I can get a good night’s sleep before having to go to work on Monday. A fresh hell surely awaits to paraphrase Dorothy Parker.

It’s been a boring day overall. Not much on TV and I can usually find something. But it was slim pickings today. Something funny that requires little attention. The layout here is my desktop computer is to my right, and the television is to my left, putting me in the middle.

The computer commands my attention and the television is mainly auditory. If Bill was here and something was on TV that we were both ‘watching’, Bill would ask ‘Did I see that? You should go back to catch it’ and that is what I usually do. Since he’s not here there is nothing to suggest turning my head just a few inches to my left.

We have a few streaming services, including Tubi which I downloaded to watch Maggie Smith in California Suite. We have Hoopla, Kanopy, Disney, Max, Amazon, Hulu, Roku, and the granddaddy of them all, Netflix. We also have Crackle which we got to watch the Weird Al Yankovic biopic which was hilarious.

We have a PBS app but I’m not sure if that works anymore. And then there’s cable TV. So much to watch and there’s nothing on is the adage or words to that effect.

Now I’ve been watching Kenya Barris’ Black-ish for a few hours, or rather listening to Kenya Barris’ Black-ish for a few hours. Nothing on. Not even the Six O’clock News at Six O’clock. Friggin’ golf was on instead.

I am not into sports.

In the Nineties I liked the NY Knicks, since I was hanging out with a group that liked the Knicks and the Knicks were impressive then. Ewing, Oakley, Starks, and my favorite Anthony Mason. They made it to the playoffs but Reggie Miller or Michael Jordan stopped that. That’s my sports writing.
I could tell you about my summer league baseball story from the 1970s but that would be a whole ‘nother story for a whole ‘nother time.