Category Archives: moldies but moodies

When I’m Sixty-Four

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Last night I downloaded a remix of ‘Situation’ by Yaz. Despite the fact that I sometimes try to communicate with Bill vis a vis music, I was not trying to tell Bill something with the ‘move out’ refrain. Just wanted to clear the air. It was a decent remix, nothing to write home about, but disconcerting with that playing and Bill sitting a foot or two behind me. And I don’t want him to move out.

Yesterday morning Bill mentioned going to Arthur’s Steakhouse for dinner. Sounded like a good idea. Then he went off and did what he did, came home and crashed. I came home from cycling and found him asleep in the bed. He woke up around 9:00 and didn’t say anything about dinner. I brought it up, asking if he said something about going out to Arthur’s. He said he did, and then he didn’t say much else. Now it was 9:30, and I was hungry.

Finally as I mentioned that I was going out to get some food, he mentioned that we could go. I reckoned that by the time we get there, wait for a table, and sit down and eat it would be too late. So I went out and got some chicken from the Chicken and Rib Crib. Came home, and me being a nice guy offered him some of my dinner. He ate as we watched some telly, not really taking about anything. I did mention that I might not be able to make it to next Friday’s session since I had something to do with work. Something like going to Coney Island on an office outing. I have to call Phillip to reschedule. Either that, or its week number three without going to our couples counseling.

Today was a day at the beach. Julio, Stine and I all talked about it briefly last night and there we were, on the sand before noon. We were joined by Julio’s sister Maria and her fiancé, Paul. Bill was driving somewhere, and he knows that if the weather is permitting a trip to the beach is usually in order. Bill has his passion, which is driving buses. Mine is being at the beach with good friends.

I was very happy that the iPod adapter I got Julio for his car is working phenomenally well. I love playing the DJ.

It was very windy and the water was cold. Too cold to go in, 60-65 degrees with a way too cool breeze. We didn’t go to Sandy Hook, we didn’t go to Monmouth beach, we went to Sea Bright, which left Julio and I aghast with the amount of people. Stine and Maria preferred public facilities, Julio, Paul and myself, being men could pee anywhere. Rather than risk Sandy Hook being overcrowded, we heeded Paul’s suggestion and wound up in Sea Bright.

As the hours passed it was getting more and more crowded. We guessed that Sandy Hook had reached capacity and Sea Bright being the next public beach, was soon filled with people on line, headed out to the street about 100 yards in the sun waiting to pay seven dollars a head to get in.

The beach was definitely family oriented so jazz cigarettes were not to be enjoyed. That was a drag, or rather it wasn’t. We had a few beers and watched umbrellas fly down the shoreline due to the fact that they weren’t anchored properly. The flying umbrella could be a dangerous thing if you’re not paying attention.

We wound up leaving earlier than we usually do. We left at 3:00. Julio couldn’t deal with the crowds and they kept straggling in. We got back to Hoboken around 4:30 and went our separate ways. I jumped in the shower and decided to head into the city to Folsom East. It was crazy hot in the city as I walked the Chelsea border of 23rd street.

I ran into Tony, someone I knew (not biblically) in the nineties. Similar interests you see. He’s had a hard time the past few months and today was his first outing since his partner died in October. Alas he was heading back to Jersey City and I was headed to a bunch of leather queens. I wandered around, looking good I must say, but not seeing anyone I knew. Still awfully hard to met men, even if they are wearing a leather harness and a leather jackass, erm, jock strap.

I had a La Gloria Cubana and strolled around, excusing myself if I had to brush past some hairy back. It went unheard, courtesy and politeness just aren’t done at leather functions. It was humorous to see some men dressed totally from head to toe in leather and it’s in the nineties, the sun beaming and no breeze or flying umbrellas in sight. I saw a few online contacts that are not much bigger than their thumbnail photographs or otherwise way too tall and creepy in real life.

I walked back to the Path train and was home at 8:00. All in all a pretty good day.

It didn’t start out that way though. At some point last night as I was turning over in my sleep I elbowed Bill right on the nose. I woke up instantly as I heard Bill say, ‘Ouch! That hurt!’ Immediately I said, ‘Sorry Dad!’ I guess I was dreaming about my father.

It was Father’s Day after all.



and now, a turtle crossing the street in Rumson.

Brandy

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The Looking Glass sang ‘Brandy’ in 1972. A New Jersey band from Rutgers. A great song. I’ll always remember hearing it for the first time in Wildwood Crest in 1972. Some daughter of a VFW conventioneer and I riding the rides on the Boardwalk in June and ‘Brandy’ were playing quite loudly and lovely. The song went to number one in August of that year. Kudos to the Looking Glass.

http://www.superseventies.com/1972_9singles.html

This morning, after loading the Ipod throughout the night. Loaded 5000 plus songs manually and set it off going to sleep expecting the best. It didn’t take, all the Ipod would do is list each and every song. And there were only 1700 and change anyhow. But it was frustrating. It worked yesterday morning, and I could have sworn I did everything all right. Frustrating as hell. And speaking of hell it’s where I was off to.

Lacking my Ipod, I was deprived of any psyching up music before getting to my desk. It was a disadvantage. It was bagel day so that made it a bit easier to start up the day. That and a lot of coffee. It was a dragging day. I wasn’t in a suit and tie so that covered the drag part of dragging. It was just a Really. Slow. Day.

The good feeling that I had from the day before with the interview Part deux with McMann and Tate had dissipated somewhat. I didn’t give up hoping for it, but I didn’t think I would get it either. A diet of bagels and a sour outlook on things didn’t help and I crashed. Hard.

Everything was bleak. I was so upset about it all. Told Bill I didn’t even care to go to DC next week. Just sad and despairing. Then I ate a banana. Felt better real quick. Total duh. Walked around midtown exploiting the excuse from Helen Devilakos to just take a walk if I’m not feeling so good about things. Though I had started to feel good, I used the opportunity to just get the hell out.

I walked around smoked a La Gloria Cubana Hermoso. Very nice, very mellow. Ten years ago I would’ve smoked a joint. Now, a cigar. One legal, one not. I walked by a mosque where my friend Ahsen prays. Told him about it when I saw him. There were a lot of guys. People actually stood across the street and watched about a hundred men pouring out onto the street. Strange, though I have seen the same effect when Saint Patrick’s Cathedral spills out on a Sunday morning.

Came back to work after having been gone an hour and it was still slow slow slow. Then my cell rang. It was Matt from McMann and Tate calling with the job offer. I called him back on a landline. The job was mine if I wanted it and I do I really do want it. He was emailing me the official offer over the weekend and told me today, Friday so that I would have a good weekend. I stuck to the script and told him I wanted to review the offer, but the answer was 99.9% yes. I would call him back on Monday with the ‘official’ answer.

I told one or two coworkers who hugged me and said while it was sad to see me go, they wished me the best. My last day will be Thursday, the 13th. I’ll start the day after Bill and I come back from DC.

A few hours’ earlier nothing but dark clouds, suddenly blue skies. Felt so good that I walked down to Tek Serve, an Apple store, where Bill bought the Ipod before Christmas. Like she was a few months ago, there Brandy stood. She is a fine girl indeed. She was startled that I knew here name but said she remembered me from my previous visit.

Once again, she hooked it up and loaded it with Lucy Pearl as we discussed how we both loved Raphael Siddiq’s voice. She mentioned how tight his body was, but I didn’t go there. Sure enough it worked. I started to walk up Sixth Avenue when Julio called. I told him the job news earlier and he was happy for me and looking forward to celebrating tonight.

Bill came in on the call and he was exceedingly happy. He most of all knew of the hell I had been in at Wanker Banker. He was happier than he would be if he owned his own bus, which is really saying something. I love this guy.