Category Archives: WTF

Down in the Depths

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The day is Thursday. Oddly enough it’s been a bright and sunny day. Me, I’ve been morose at best.

It was most noticeable this morning while walking to the office in midtown Manhattan. The day started off kind of depressing. Nothing in particular but then again everything in particular. Perhaps it’s all from waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but then again if that was the case, everyday would be like today.

And it isn’t like this everyday..

What happened? Let’s see, I was almost hit by a Coach USA bus in midtown. The driver insisted he was in the right since the Don’t Walk sign started flashing as I was midway through the intersection, enabling him to justify almost killing me.

Flipping him the middle finger didn’t bring the satisfaction that it used to. I got the bus number, but not the ‘How’s My Driving?’ 800 number. Took a picture of it but by the time I got to my office I stopped caring. What is it with bus drivers? Why are they such an unruly sort?

Shortly after the bus incident, I walk past some guy with what appears to be Tourette’s Syndrome screaming quite loudly either at me or in my direction. So that is basically the start of my day.

My sister seemed to pick up on my blue mood 3000 miles away. She suggested taking a walk to clear my head, but having walked from 50th Street and Third Avenue to 30th Street and Sixth Avenue and then from the Path train to Sixth and Park in Hoboken didn’t clear my head to begin with.

I think staying in and not seeing anyone is the perfect remedy.

Last night after vacillating back and forth about whether to go out, I went out. I walked up to the Whiskey Bar a little after 9:00 and saw my friend John Williams play in his band, The Caterpillar Book.

Why the Caterpillar Book for a band name? I couldn’t tell you. They were good, competent musicians, John was a tasteful guitarist.

They write their own songs which made it odd to see them at the Whiskey Bar since it’s mainly a place where cover bands play. Pearl Jam & U2 tribute bands, but on Wednesday nights, bands playing originals are welcome.

The Caterpillar Book is pretty much a Jersey Shore band, good but a little too AOR for my tastes. But like I said they were good, but not my cuppa.

I also got carded at the door by a handsome cugine who could have been my son if not for the bulging muscles in the tight black t shirt and the black hair straight out of Bensonhurst.

I know this blue feeling, or period, won’t last and will probably be gone by tomorrow.

My three day weekend begins with laundry and then who knows?

I hope to get some bike riding in. Don’t know where to or how far but if the weather is permitting, that is what I might just do.

Right now I’m just glad to be home, away from people.

Ha! Juan just called, he might be stopping by. He’s not people.
"How's My Driving?" The bus that almost ran me over.

The bus that almost ran me over. “How’s My Driving?”

Marooned

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Just woke up from a 30 minute napped. It was much needed. Last night Juan made it over, we watched Saturday Night Live. Good to have him around again if only for a few hours.

I wound up burning him a few CD’s of Jenny Lewis, The Bird and The Bee, mainly things that I’ve bought over the past few weeks. I was surprised that the CD burner was working properly.

Juan seems to be doing well. He looked good. Hard to believe that I hadn’t seen him since before the Xmas holidays last year. He’s been quite busy with work and school and keeping out of trouble, mostly.

Alas, when Saturday Night Live was over I kicked him out and was off to bed myself. Bill was already there, not really snoring.

Tonight he goes back to St. Luke’s/Roosevelt hospital for another sleep apnea thing. This time he’ll be wearing a mask. So that means a solo night for myself which is just as well.

As lovely as today has been, it started for me with a pounding headache. Really dehydrated mainly. I was supposed to take part in an Art Performance piece organized by a friend of Harpy. But the headache put the kibosh on that.

I did my usual rounds even stopping off to pick up a pound of coffee at Empire Coffee. I was surprised to see Jeff there. He’s moving to my neighborhood next month. That means he’ll see me prancing about in my boxer briefs if he’s luck, and lucky is a relative term running either good or bad.

I was sitting around today, Bill was off to church. Took some aspirin and decided to head out. It was a beautiful day and I took the Path train to Christopher Street and walked up Hudson Street to Chelsea. Many stores and restaurants boarded up on Hudson Street.

Lot’s of people lining outside the restaurants that were open for brunch. I walked up to Chelsea where I was compelled to suck in the gut, such a gay mecca it is.

I walked up to 20th street and walked over to 12 east 20th Street where I went to the Not Fade Away gallery which just opened a few weeks ago. The opening exhibition runs until May 17.

It’s called “The British Are Coming: The Beatles and the Rolling Stones 1964-66” by Bob Bonis. Quite a few pics I had never seen before, especially the picture of Keith Richards with his cock out.

couldn't get any closer....

couldn't get any closer....

The gallery owner was a very nice guy. I plan on going back, hopefully with Rita since all I did was talk to this guy about her. I did try to contact her but she was wandering around with her sister in law and nephews.

I wound up walking up to 33rd Street and caught the Path train home.

Read the latest Mojo magazine about Mott the Hoople which was very good though I only know 2 songs by them. 2 great songs though.

It should be hard to believe that Ian Hunter turns 70 this year. He must be a good guy since Jim Mastro toured with him a few years ago and everyone knows what a good guy Jim Mastro is.