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Bloom in 10

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34° on A Monday night in Hoboken. It’s been quite an out of the ordinary couple of days. It’s March 3. Friday night had Bill, Mike, and myself watching Ted Lasso. Mike seems enamored of the show as Bill and I had been in the past.

Bill did his last minute packing thing, running around the apartment before he went to sleep for an early departure Saturday morning. Mike soon fell asleep on the couch, I turned everything on low on my computer before turning in.

Bill gave me a goodbye kiss and I went back to sleep. I regret not walking to the door to see him off. I was up an hour after that, Mike was up already. Mike had expressed a desire to shoot some photos in Jersey City and I was game.

The day before we discussed it and he had packed a bag with his wardrobe and accoutrements so I wasn’t taken by surprise. And Saturday was a nice day, the temperatures reaching 60°. We took a Lyft to Jersey City since the baggage was too unwieldy to walk over, though we agreed we would walk back.

Between Mike and myself I have a better cameraphone and I wound up taking shots of Mike in different shirts, sneakers, and even a leather harness. He has his admirers online and I provided artistic direction while I took the photos.

It was fun working underneath an overpass that had some wonderful graffiti that Mike ably posed in front of, smoking a cigar that we shared. I wound up taking a couple of hundred photos, with maybe a dozen of myself smoking the shared cigar. It was a good time.

We walked home as it had started getting chilly and windy. The walk was enjoyable. Mike just takes it all in, the view and whatever it is that I was saying, my personal history of Hoboken. He never says anything.

It was like that in December when Bill, Mike, and I went to see the Rockefeller Xmas tree. Bill giving his spiel about midtown Manhattan, me interjecting and Mike just listening to our history lesson.

So it was more of the same on Saturday with just me spilling my guts about Hoboken, how it was, and how it is now. I made pasta for the both of us and we finished watching Ted Lasso. Mike works on Sundays so he was off to bed and I too was off to sleep soon after.

Bill wasn’t around so I had Mike sleep in the bed instead of the couch. Mike was up early and off to work. On Sundays, I just stay in bed until it’s time to watch Jane Pauley and Sunday Morning on TV. It was a lonely day and I am just no good on my own.

Bill was on the road and mostly unavailable, Mike was at work and sort of unavailable. I wandered off to the supermarket to get various items. Mike was coming over again, the plan was to have him sleep over so I wouldn’t be alone. Bill agrees that this is a good idea.

We watched the Oscars on TV and texted with Bill back and forth. It was enjoyable, Mike was disappointed that Wicked didn’t win much. I was disappointed that A Complete Unknown, the Bob Dylan movie got nothing. Bill has a copy of the evening’s winner, Anora which we will watch on his return.

Today was not such a good day. Bill was fine being where he was, Mike was at work, and I was home climbing the walls. There was a drastic mistake of chatting with Mike online before I had enough coffee and it went south soon after. Nothing bad was said but nothing bad was said with me being argumentative and Mike being somewhat accusatory.

Then it turned into Mike saying he was just going to go home, the hanging out here in Hoboken had run its course. I was a bit hurt by that and told him his bags were packed and he could call a Lyft home. The phone call ended badly obviously.

I talked to Bill about it and he suggested seeing Mike and talking about it face-to-face. Mike brought it up earlier and I said no, but after Bill’s idea, I changed my mind and met Mike after work.

We met and it was good. He had a bona fide problem with his work situation so we discussed that. It went well and seemed like a remedy to our conversing on the phone earlier. We came back home and ate some Mexican food, and just talked.

I did my best with advice, knowing that I couldn’t really say much but be supportive. He needs a new job so I will help him with that as I myself look for work. I’ve set him up in the bed again, we cuddled, which he desperately needed. He soon drifted off to sleep as the Brian Eno Bloom 10 app played its notes. I am two rooms away writing on the computer as he sleeps.

Grey Seal

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It is not getting easier as soon as I had hoped. It’s not getting harder though. I see desperation on the horizon. It’s been over a month and a half and bitterness still lingers.

I have decided to cut any ties with Barry McGarry for the sake of my mental health. Unfortunately, that would mean cutting off Daisy and though she has done me no harm, she is part of that system therefore a reminder of the system that threw me out.

Her last text to me was about meeting up but I don’t see it happening since I am still wounded and all I would do is focus on my wound and denigrate the people she works with. I think I helped improve her life, getting her out of the fast food world with a steady Monday through Friday job with benefits and also a year end bonus which she more than likely received this time of year.

I found myself thinking of the boys that I graduated from St Francis de Sales with, in June 1976. Granted I never saw them outside of the school year, by September 1976 Ronald Straub, Frank Mallia, Santo Munafo, Jimmy Bartoli, Frank Musacchio, Charlie Wrede, and that helicopter guy Kaminski something or other.

We were all friendly in grammar school but by high school 3 months later, we were separated and any contact between me and them was nonexistent. I see Charlie Wrede on the social medias but he seems to be touched by maga that I keep my distance.

Ronald Straub was a sensitive guy, very quiet, and very smart. The rest were not as smart as Ronald. I did see Santo Munafo and Jimmy Bartoli at the reunion in 2000. I was gakked out that night and the guys I wanted to see were not there. It was a futile return to the past and I left knowing that I would never want to see these people again.

The guys I wanted to see were John Nesselt who maintains no social media presence as far as I know, and Jim Carley who seems to have passed away at age 35 in 1997 while jogging.
Let that be a lesson for ya! I learned not to go to any reunions that were not family functions.

The TV has been off most of the day so far and I’ve been listening to music most of the time. Earlier before heading out for a cigar stroll, I listened to music tones from the Bloom 10 app. Now I listen to an Elton playlist.

Bill and I watched the Elton John documentary streaming last week. I found it to be very good and well-made. Bill seemed to enjoy it too. Piano player watching a piano player.

The idea for a podcast still exists in the back of my mind. The chat with Jim Mastro planted a seed in my head. I mentioned picking up the torch that was dropped by Spalding Gray and where Spalding sat at a table talking, the spaces in which to do just that are few and far between. To me, it seems a podcast would be the place to do such a thing.

I could also interview friends like RoDa, Karyn Kuhl and others. If I get just a few pairs of eyeballs to watch, that would suffice. Not necessarily profitable but artistically it would be like this here blog, where the only eyeballs that seem to read this are my own. But with all the entries I have posted since 2005, I have a wealth of material to draw from.

I have kept the fact of my unemployment to a handful of people, Bill, of course, Annemarie, my sister-in-law Elaine, and Mike who still dangles the prospect of working alongside him in the shelter.

Today I just told my brother Brian who asked if I had gone to the company holiday party. I couldn’t hide it from him since he asked and lying about it would do no good at all. He’s recovering from a cardiac procedure last week and I asked how he was doing via text and his reply was about the holiday party.

I just told him to keep getting better and not to worry about me and to keep it to himself. We shall see how that goes.