Category Archives: Love Love Love

I Stole Your Love

It’s been a rainy and cold Saturday in Hoboken. It’s not so bad, I have been enjoying myself. I just watched Argo. Bill received a screener last month and he watched it and liked it. I finally got around to watching it and it is really a very good movie. Yes, Ben Affleck was robbed of a best director nod. That will probably go to Steven Spielberg for Lincoln. I have to say from the beginning of Argo I was engrossed. It’s funny that it wasn’t that long ago that the events happened and scary that I forgot so much since then.

I knew the ending of course, anyone who knows late 20th century history knows the ending but still I was yelling at the TV, ‘Run run run. Fly fly fly’. Ben Affleck certainly did good with the suspense. And of course being the 1970’s everyone smokes. I highly recommend it, the movie, not the smoking. Of course Bill and I will be watching the Academy Awards tomorrow. I’ve seen both Lincoln and Argo, and I think Bill has seen Les Misérables. I’m in no rush to see that, having passed a few chances to see it on Broadway I’m not running to the movie theater nor am I taking the DVD out of the slip case.

Tonight Bill is driving to Atlantic City. Last night it was Foxwoods. Last night I went out to the Mercury Lounge. I saw Port St. Willow which was a very good show. It was an early show, doors at 7:30 for an 8:30 show on the ticket. And for some reason I always believe those things, though having worked at Maxwell’s for so many years you’d think I’d remember that if a show it scheduled for a certain time, it’s not going to happen at said time.

The bar and the club have to make some money so hang out and drink while you wait. I didn’t expect an opening act but once again I was fooling myself. I got to the Path train and found a train waiting for me. An early Friday night crowd headed into the city and I found myself sitting opposite a guy who looked like Roland Gift. It wasn’t but he did remind me of the Fine Young Cannibals singer. I got off at Ninth Street and walked across town once again, basically retracing steps I last took in October when I went to see Jane Scarpantoni play with Chris Stamey.

I got to the Mercury Lounge around 8:15 and headed in. I picked up a Guinness and headed to the back where Salt Cathedral was doing a good job opening up, a five piece band, the singer sounding a bit like Bjork, a bit like 4AD stuff. She was also treating her vocals as she sang and the band were really into it. I thought they were good, running through management ideas in my head. The guys should wear suits and ties, the singer- maybe a dress.

After they left the stage the room thinned out a bit, and I got another Guinness and found a spot on a bench very close to the stage. I found my spot for the night. A few minutes later Port St. Willow came on, led by Nick Principe. As good as they are on record. And they’ve added a keyboardist which helped with the filling out of the sound, and she helped with vocals too. The drummer is so very good as well. It seemed to go by so fast but since Port St. Willow was playing the early show, it was all over by 10:00. No encore. I told the keyboardist that I liked them and hoped they play Maxwell’s soon. She remarked that they hope so too.

I also met Nick Principe and found him to be a nice guy, as well as great on guitar and such sweet vocals. He was busy getting his gear off the stage so I didn’t linger but I told him I hoped to see them playing again soon.

Then a walk back to the Path train, enjoying a cigar. Once again, a train pulled up once I got to the platform and I was home by 11:00. Bill phoned thinking I was going out at 11:00, not realizing it was an early show. Of course I listened to Port St. Willow on the way home.

I’ve posted this before and I am posting it again.

Port St. Willow

Port St. Willow


Nick Principe of Port St. Willow

Nick Principe of Port St. Willow


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I Should Have Known Better- The Beatles

Well here I am a day later. Last night I was on fire, I wrote over 1,800 words, which technically would allow me to take off today and tomorrow since the quota is at least 500 words. But here I am again. I heard from Brandon who hoped I would visit the shop occasionally. I wished him luck with his future endeavors in the behavioral sciences division of Hartz Mountain. Coming from where he is now, it should be a walk in the park. Never heard from Israel again which is fine by me. I talked to someone who knows him and she agreed that he is a big mouthed idiot.

Harpy called last night and I have to say, talking to him on the phone made me feel like Hillary Clinton testifying the other day in Congress. This time I did express my hope that any comments he would have should be directed to the comment box below. He is the only commenter that has his own avatar. Annemarie and myself have avatars generated by Word Press, and speaking for myself, I don’t like it one bit, no sir. Harpy did have some valid points and I’ll try to correct one or two of them.

The cigar shop still exists. My helping them out in exchange for cigars no longer exists. The characters in the entries regarding the cigar shop are not Jewish. In fact I think they are Franciscans or quite possibly Dominicans. Definitely not Capuchin though. No fucking way would you find me working for those monks or monkeys. It was an interesting talk with Harpy. He suggested that the Dominicans always stick together. Or maybe he said Franciscans. He mentioned that living in his Franciscan neighborhood for 8 years he is still seen as an interloper.

And being a white guy he is the face of their changing neighborhood, a neighborhood that was once all filled with the same type of people from the same place. And before that it was filled with another type of people from another place. Harpy mentioned that he barely gets a ‘thank you’ for his daily purchases. Perhaps they are hoping that rudeness and a lack of courtesy would dissuade other white faces to move into those pre-war apartments in Washington Heights. “Oh we’re not moving there. People don’t cover their mouths when they cough. No thank you.”

I remembered in Weehawken, at Theresita Liquors around the block from where I lived the proprietor would be so happy to see me and chatty when I went in to buy my Guinness and once the transaction was completed, the shopkeeper would immediately stop talking to me before I even finished putting my money in my wallet. I was happy when he sold his business to Hector, a really nice and sexy guy.

Bill and I talked about what happened with the cigar shop and he could not understand how I could put up with the communication or lack thereof. It did give me something to write about, I replied. I told him what Harpy said about the Dominicans (or Franciscans) and I thought with some people with Caribbean backgrounds that I knew, they always seemed to have rotten things to say about Dominicans. I told Bill how I worked with a young woman who had a Puerto Rican background and how she joked to me that her and her friends always referred to Dominicans as ‘Dumb in a Can’. I told her that certain racist white groups would be happy to see such divisiveness among Latin people, divisiveness that would prevent them from ever achieving any progress and keep them ‘beneath’ white people.

I hoped she got my point, it was years ago and it should have sunken in by now. For today, I’m glad that in my life there won’t be any chest thumping 28 year old little big man trying to be an alpha male by virtue of a loud voice and closed mind.
Such a young age for such an old man.

PS- as a final severing of any connections with the cigar shop, I removed the Square app from my phone. I took it off a little while ago. You would think that having access to their bank accounts and charges being made at the cigar shop would be something to end right away. But no, they did not do a thing. With one last glance at purchases it was an easy removal and freed up space on my phone.

Cul-de-sacs is watching.

Tony Alamo and his christianist bullshit in the garbage bin.

Tony Alamo and his christianist bullshit in the garbage bin.


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