Category Archives: Wonderful World Beautiful People

Hail Satin

Another Monday. Yesterday was yet another washout of a Sunday. The rain ended at some point last night when the sun had set. Mike was over and that was fun. Some in depth soul searching conversation occured. I also helped him with his laundry. I washed, he hung out to dry.

I had a dream before waking. I was walking to Maxwell’s and ran into Maurice Menares on the sidewalk outside. We both went in and things were just as they were 36 years ago. I lingered at the front bar for a minute before heading into the kitchen looking for Steve Fallon who was jokingly trying not to be found. He was talking to Maurice by the shelves where things were settled and sweated.

Then I found Julio at the back bar using a new type of register which was supposed to be cutting edge, or at least that is what Julio told me. The alarm went off soon after that and I stumbled out of bed before the sun had arisen. Lucifer bearer of light was a bit tardy this morning.

It’s Columbus Day or more succinctly, Indigenous Peoples Day. That makes more sense. It was was a plot line on the Sopranos back in the day. The indignity of the Italian Americans, upset that Christopher Columbus was vilified for his crimes against humanity. I was brought up being taught that Columbus was a hero when in actuality he was a genocidal maniac with the backing of the Spanish monarchy as well as the blessing of the Roman Catholic Church.

I saw a show at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in the 1980s with my brother Frank that had a segment about Columbus discovering the new world. It was possibly the first time I came across that line of thought, that Columbus was a bad guy. Years later, reading Howard Zinn, it was set in stone, at least in my mind.

Listening to the Slits right now. I think Dave Bell turned me onto them. Jimmy Chile heard a bit of them for the first time and liked what he heard. It reminded me of Laszlo Papp, or more specifically a girl he used to like; in what sense, I do not know but he was somewhat smitten. I think her name was Nanette, or it might have been Babette.

She was probably my age but far more worldly than me. She lived in Fort Lee with her parents, or one of her parents. She danced like Ari Up and showed me how to skank like I was in Madness. There was something about her though; perhaps a piece of the puzzle was missing. I thought she was intimidating but harmless and I was very much an innocent, if not a wimp that Laszlo tolerated, probably like the DeNunzio brothers took Laszlo under their shoulders when they were in the Feelies.

When I started working at Maxwell’s I was a barback that took over the Friday night gig working alongside Declan and Martha. Keith DeNunzio had the barback position before me. I recall giving him a ride home to Rutherford and he may have said something untoward about my brother Frank. I told Frank about it and whatever friendship Frank might have had with Keith DeNunzio evaporated. Keith called me out on it.

Laszlo was the best man at Keith’s marriage to a woman named Kim. I met them years before Maxwell’s. Kim was good friends with my Weehawken roommate William and stayed with us for a spell in the 90’s after living abroad. Other friends of mine didn’t like her but she seemed fine to me. Those other friends of mine were quite judgemental, it was all very high school.

I do have a nice memory from the summer of 1980. I was hanging out with Laszlo, Keith & Kim at Laszlo’s parent’s house. It was a beautiful summer night and the four of us went across Market St to a field and spent time, past midnight being silly and kicking a soccer ball back & forth. It was lovely and innocent.

I think I got home around 3:00 AM and was greeted by the back of my father’s hand across my 17 year old face, cursing me for staying out so late. Yes it was late, but it was such a magic night. Time flew by. No drinks, no drugs (at least not for me) just wonderfulness that came crashing down due to my father’s foul temper.

Keith and Kim divorced and Kim moved to Spain. Keith remarried to someone and I think he’s a dad. I got along with the other DeNunzio brother though it’s fleeting in that once small circle of Maxwell’s people.

Highlands

The other day I was dreaming about a rally for L’Orange Merde, where I went to create a disturbance with Natasha Lyonne, Julio, & Annemarie at a Virgin megastore that sold only Bowie vinyl in Manhattan.

It’s a cold Sunday in January. I got home a little over an hour ago. Bill & I shuffled off to Highlands NJ along with my former roommate William Charas to see our dear friend Connie Poulakos off to California. Connie has been ill for a number of years and I don’t think I had seen her in maybe 14 years. I am leaving room for error but that was the best of my recollection.

Connie’s sister Jennifer has been flying back and forth from the West Coast looking after Connie, but reality has set in and the fact is Connie can’t be alone, Jennifer can’t keep the trips so it’s best for them to sell Connie’s house in the Highlands and use the money from the sale for Connie to stay in an assisted living facility closer to Jennifer.

There were about 50 friends and family members gathered to say Bon Voyage. It was a nice luncheon afternoon and the food was quite good. I hadn’t seen some of those friends in years, Connie’s quite popular and always had a good mix of people visiting her on Portland Road.

A favorite story of mine that I sometimes tell involved a bunch of friends staying at Connie’s overnight. Music playing, people dancing. I step out on Connie’s balcony and start to play the assorted wind chimes hanging on the deck. I thought it sounded good but I couldn’t tell really as the music was that loud.

The next morning, Connie sees a neighbor and says that she hoped that we did not disturb them with the volume of the music that was played the night before. The neighbor said no, they were not disturbed and in fact, they enjoyed watching the guy doing Tai Chi on the balcony. Connie wondered who that was and I explained that it was probably me playing the wind chimes which looked like a Tai Chi exercise.

There are a few stories like that some with me not coming off so good. Nothing bad but me being awkward and clumsy that I am just not in the mood to get into.

It’s been a slow winter Sunday in January. A drag for sure but Connie’s party was a welcome distraction if not a bittersweet farewell. It was good to see William again. We lived together at 127 Jane Street in Weehawken for 11 years. I mentioned to William that during those 11 years, each year for 50 weeks we got along fine. Those other two weeks though were sometimes filled with discontent and antagonism.

And it wasn’t two consecutive weeks, just a few days here and there. Sometimes William and I were like oil and water and other times just fine. We have a history that I think we were both happy to revisit this afternoon.