Category Archives: the day after yesterday

Ring The Alarm

St. Patrick’s Day in Hoboken. At 10:00 this morning there were crowds congregating on street corners. Not waiting for the parade, but waiting for the bars to open, or heading off to parties. At 10:00AM, you can hear various parties going on in apartments, walking through Hoboken this morning. The bagel shop had a line out to the street and most bagels were sold out. I was lucky to get a green poppy seed bagel. And the supermarket was filled with newly of age drinkers, buying all the beer they could carry. I had to go to the library to pick up a book that I had on hold and Diane, the head librarian likened Hoboken today as being one big frat party. And she hit it on the head.

It was packed everywhere I went. Lines out the door into the streets. And all before noon. I got what I could and headed home, for breakfast, followed by laundry. I had a few errands to run so I timed it that after the laundry I could do the errands which was paying the cable bill and getting my new Stevia. It was time for the parade and so I found a good spot on Washington Street to wait. In between two bars in the sun.

I spoke with Rand aka El Jefe and mentioned that he and Lisa aka Lady Gigglepuss were planning on watching the parade. I told them were I was and soon enough they joined me. Lot’s of pipe and drum and bagpipers and kilts. In 35 degree weather which occasionally felt a lot colder. We were situated next to a few guys who I dubbed the Horny Boys. Just because every vehicle that went by they pleaded with the driver to honk the horn or sound the siren or ring the alarm. And the Horny Boys would get so jubilant when the request was granted, no matter how squeaky the sound. It was very funny and everyone in the area had a good laugh every time, including the marchers.

This year the person in the Guinness suit, someone who looks like a big pint of Guinness was on the back of a pick up truck, more than likely due to the fact that Mr. Pint of Guinness has gotten jumped by various drunker parade watchers cum participants. It’s a short parade with representatives from as far as Somerset and Passaic. Some Hibernians marched but I don’t think they had any connection to the ancient twits that run the New York parade. Even though online Hoboken is Gay City, on the street it’s mainly invisible and I don’t think there’s ever been an attempt to march in the Hoboken St. Patrick’s Parade and I doubt there would be any problem, but who the hell wants to march in freezing cold weather? Been there, done that. Next!

It’s now about 6:00 and I need to run to the store. I’m thinking of going down Washington Street just to see what that looks like three hours later. How strong are these kid’s livers? Or their stomachs? We shall see.

I just got back from walking down Washington Street at 6:00PM. Craziness. Now there are still crowds of young drinkers queuing up outside of various bars, and occasional singles and pairs walking all over the place, unable to walk in a straight line. Drunken young men yelling into cellphones, ‘That’s not what I said! That’s not what I meant!’

Drunken Firefighters off duty in dress blues passively fending off drunken young women. Most stores have signs on their doors saying that the rest rooms are out of order, and they probably are. People new to the country, new to Hoboken look on bemusedly and confused by all the festivities of young women teetering on too high heels and young men in green t shirts with thermal tops underneath. Now is the time to stay inside. Plus Bill just got here and I think it’s the first time in a long time that he can be himself. Which means he will drive me crazy in an hour. That was a joke. Two hours at most.

Here are some pics

Before the parade
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Outside of many bars
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The worst job, luckily only one horse
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The Grand Marshall
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Weehawken Flag Twirlers (with a male flag twirler)
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Just a bagpiper
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Hoboken Roller Girl
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El Jefe and Lady Gigglepuss
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The Black Irish
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Guinness under protection
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selling Irish pretzels
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Two of the Horny Boys (quite handsome, no?)
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Too Much Monkey Business

Friday has arrived. Took it’s sweet time getting here. It was a relatively productive day, but first, last night’s TV. Yes, Lost was on and yes it was good. All about Desmond. No barrow. No marketplace. Not much in the memory department either. It was good and the scene with Penelope was sweet. A happy ending of sorts. Talked to Annemarie on the phone for a while last night. Just family drama, too personal to write about here. How’s that for a tease?

Things have been very tense in upper Bergen County for a while and they all came to a head. Fucked up teenagers, damaged parents makes for a emotional maelstrom. And then in lower Bergen County, my sister in law Elaine is having an angiogram, and Frank is stressed. With the cutbacks in state employees I wonder if Frank will be affected. He’s a country employee you see, and shit rolls downhill. Annemarie is trying to organize a laughter yoga group and that’s slow going. I hope it works out, though all you need is one person. Or maybe one other person. You can laugh by yourself, but it’s easier to laugh with someone else.

I laughed loudly watching the Daily Show last night with Jason Jones jonesing for Starbucks coffee, going so far as rooting through garbage cans and drinking a used condom filled with coffee. Yes it was gross and it was also hilarious. I slept incredibly well last night, woke up really rested and in a decent mood. I timed myself and I can wake up and be out of the apartment in 45 minutes, including a shower and coffee. I didn’t shave today, since it’s Friday. Also cut my forehead with my thumbnail. Not used to having nails, you see.

For most of my life I bit my nails, and for the past couple of months I haven’t. I haven’t even used the bitter nail enamel that I was using for years. It’s bitter, it’s probably poison and it did deter me from biting my nails for a while, until I washed my hands a few times and the poison would wash off. Now I compulsively file my nails and that seems to be the tact that works. I still want to write something about Nail Biters Anonymous, which involves someone like me, or actually me, going up before the group and saying , ‘Hello I’m John and I’m a compulsive nail biter’ only to get the response of ‘What? We can’t understand you, take you fingers out of your mouth!’. That’s as far as I got. If anyone else has an idea on how to follow that, I’d like to hear it.

Bill is hoping to come over this weekend, if just for the opportunity to sleep in our bed, he’s been couch bound for a few months now, and not sleeping well. I’m looking forward to sleeping next to him again. Hopefully I won’t hit him while I’m sleeping. It’s been known to happen. Got my Guinness for the weekend, I’m set for what comes before Part B.