Category Archives: Whats for lunch?

I Stand Accused

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I woke up this morning with a lyric in my head. Not going to write it down here, I wrote it on some paper, but I think it’s a decent lyric. Just a couple of lines, but it’s a start. Roam wasn’t written in a day you know.

I am still digging the fact that Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro really fixed up my guitar. Can’t stop playing. Today I taught myself, Surrender by Cheap Trick. That is a lot of fun to play, and I don’t even mind singing about Kiss. A lot easier than I expected.

Also 2 Grizzly Bear songs, Deep Blue Sea and Two Weeks. I am really digging it and been exercising my left index finger since it’s a bit stiff. I exercise it by bending it up and down which if I did it in public, it looks like I would be telling people to ‘come here’.

I should be grateful that it’s not my middle finger, but I’m really not.

I was so excited about the guitar that when Bill came home I showed him and played Half a World Away by R.E.M. and 2000 Miles by the Pretenders. This afternoon I also played Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Reg Dwight.

Had a good talk with Juan last night. He’s not in a good way though. Not my place to write about it since it’s not my life, and I don’t want his resentment, but like I said, it ain’t good.

Not much TV today. I watched Cash Cab, a game show set in an actual taxi in Manhattan. It’s a fun show, the cab driver is pretty silly and goofy.

Tonight I’m supposed to have a coffee with a friend of Julio’s, Lisa. She’s a sweetheart, we really enjoy each others company. She’s been working in real estate in Hoboken and I don’t recall if I wrote about this last week, but I’ve been toying with the idea of working in real estate.

My friend Vinnie says I would be great at it, a natural, and having written that, I’m pretty sure I wrote about it. I’m going to have to suggest something other than coffee since I don’t drink coffee after 12:00PM. I have enough difficulty going to sleep and caffeine would certainly do a number on me at 1:30 in the morning.

I watched Heroes last night. It’s great when you DVR it, the whole show is about 40 minutes sans commercials. And once again it was lackluster. They should pull the plug on the show. Really, make this season the last season. It’s going nowhere and not even Milo Ventimiglia could save it.

Most of the day has been playing music and listening to music. Much like when I was growing up. Music music music. I hear a song, check the chords online and start strumming away.

I’ve been meaning to write about a Facebook experience I’ve had. No, not like that. I came across someone from high school’s name and checked out his friends. I knew some of them. One of them was this kid named Brett who lived in Rochelle Park, the town next to Lodi where I grew up.

Brett was so obviously gay, I don’t know if he knew but I knew I was and my early gaydar certainly pinged on him. Not my type, he was maybe 98 pounds soaking wet and being a boy named Brett, I guess it was destiny that he would be gay.

So I’m going down this former classmate’s friend list and saw Brett’s name there. But the picture was of a roided hairy muscle bear. It was quite a mind fuck. I initially thought that Brett had his favorite porn star’s picture there, but no it was Brett.

Definitely did a number on my head. Still not my type and despite his hirsute looks and macho exterior, I am sure that when he opens his mouth to speak, it’s ‘Hello Mary’.

Another Facebook thing that popped into my head was the fact that I was so excited to make $3.00 on Saturday while busking that I wrote about it as my status. Today I thought that some of my friends from grammar school that I am friends with were probably tsk tsking when they read it, that is if they don’t hide my postings, anti catholic/religion, anti republican, pro gay stuff.

Then I realized that I’ve done perfectly well without them in my life for the past 33 years and I really don’t give a damn what they think.

Now I’m off to see Lisa after I post this.

Smell ya later.

Today is World AIDS Day. Remember those who have fallen and celebrate their brief lives.

Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)

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It’s a Friday, feels like a Saturday. Back in the day, when I lived in Lodi, this would be the day that my parents would go off to Cherry Hill, coming back on Sunday. That usually left my brother Brian and myself at home.

I would spend the day, walking up to the Garden State Plaza, buying records at Sam Goody, books at Schiller Books and then walking across Route 4, over the cloverleaf to Alexanders where records were $4.99 generally.

Maybe some cookies at David’s Cookies in Bamberger’s, or a cheap sandwich at Kresge’s. Then a walk home walking faster than the cars stuck in traffic on Rochelle Avenue. A simpler life it was then.

Don’t recall what Brian and I did for food, but being after Thanksgiving there were bound to be leftovers, pies and brownies and Pfeffernusse which would usually stay in a glass canister for months on end.

I remember one time Brian had a small party, I was upstairs watching Yellow Submarine on a black & white TV. Some friend of Brian’s was playing Dear Prudence on guitar which to my ears was amazing. I don’t remember his name but he also kept his pack of Marlboro in his Frye boots which I thought was sooo cool.

I suppose it must have been 1977 since I bought the 10th anniversary issue of Rolling Stone which made me somewhat hip, or so I thought. And that’s my memory from 32 years ago.

Right now, since nothing else is on I’m watching A Hard Day’s Night on VH1 Classics. Sure it’s distracting me from writing but it’s a fun distraction.

It’s been a giddy day for me today. Don’t know why but I’m not about to question it.

Maybe it had something to do with yet another cannabis free dream last night. This one, I was Bob Dylan’s assistant at his hotel somewhere in Manhattan. I had a problem dealing with his barbecue utensils & tongs so I asked a New York Times reporter in the next room what I should do with them.

Just then Bob entered and said not to touch them. Fine enough, I said I was leaving and I would see everyone tomorrow. As I was leaving the hotel room, in the hallway some guy grabs my arm and tells me to come with him.

Having no say in the matter I go with him and we wind up on the roof of the hotel. He starts telling me that he’s upset with the fact that I’ve been dealing weed in his hotel. Apparently he, and only he was allowed to do such dealings.

I plead my case, stating that it’s impossible, that I hadn’t smoked any weed in over a week! That actually got me off the hook.

I woke up to Bill watching Sanford & Son in the next room. After I got myself awake and alive, Bill and I walked around Hoboken a bit. Stopped by the Guitar Bar to say hello to Jim.

I bought a guitar strap with the Guitar Bar logo on it which Jim graciously took a couple of bucks off the price. I’d still love Jim even if he charged me full price.

Then it was off to the Post Office to pay some bills. Bill saw me put the local mail in the wrong slot and after the letter left my fingers he asked if I had put a stamp on it.

I know at the apartment I thought about using a Homer Simpson stamp and when Bill mentioned that I thought I did. But doubt being what it is, I got back on line and told a postal worker about what I might have done.

He directed me to walk down the hall to the customer service window. I rang the bell and told them and they retrieved the letter, with no stamp on it. Then I had to get back on line and buy some stamps.

Being in a giddy mood, almost manic, I chatted with the man behind the glass, answering his question about using a credit card with a ‘Yes, Ma’am’. ‘Ma’am?’ he remarked and I apologized with him saying in turn, ‘It’s OK, Miss’. It was all a big giggle.

Came home Bill took a nap since he’s working from 6:00PM to 6:00AM. Overtime rarely comes to his office and he jumped at the chance. I changed my guitar strap, played some songs, Elton, Beck, Simon & Garfunkel, and Elvis Costello. Trying to figure out La Vie en Rose as well.

Woke Bill up at 4:00 by standing over him and playing The Lion Sleeps Tonight. A giddy day. Giddy I tell you, Giddy!