Plymouth Charger

2 minutes left in the morning of January 22nd, 2026. I just had the realization that probably because I was such a lousy, thoughtless, and selfish lover, could be why I’m still alive today. Granted, I’m paying the price for it now with lotion and a right hand, but I am able to be alive. The hope that spring eternal has run dry, at least the well of Hope

So far, I’ve only spoken to Bill and or Mike when we’re face to face, at least the past 24 hours. I find that lately, in the past 24 hours, I’m happiest when I’m at work. It helps that it’s a good job, easy, and I like the people I work with.

So I carried hope for 15 years with regards to Bill, and I guess now we’re companions, literally Bert and Ernie. With the same useful genitalia as those Muppets

I readily admit my idiocy when it comes to sexuality and Bill. It was a happy Pollyanna-like existence in the past 15 years or so. Ignorance is bliss, and I was quite blissful. Now that the bandage has been ripped off, I see things as they are.

No one wants to be alone, I know I don’t, and I know Bill doesn’t, so this is where we are- companions.

Passing by Xavier High School with bus number two outside, and I remembered I used to take bus number two from grammar School 50 years ag,o holy fuck.

And in my desperation or need to speak to somebody, I’ve been confiding in Marcus, and I’m not sure if that’s something, although he has told me that what was said was confidential, but still there’s doubt and or paranoia involved.

Now I find myself at the spot where 7 months ago there was much happiness with Bill, Mike, and me for the parade. Now the trees are barren, it is cold out, and I am alone. Bill and Mike are supposed to talk today about whatever it is they want to talk about, will I be brought up, who knows yet, think I would be, but with two narcissists who can tell?

I like wool hats, especially when it’s very cold. I have been very cold lately, but when I wear a wool hat, it gets wet with sweat, so I left it on the heater a little too long, and the wool hat was fried. So today I went around on my lunch break, I bought a new hat which was a good price, $10.

Otherwise, it’s not that cold in the 40s, I assume, but they are anticipating a major snowstorm this weekend. I’ve heard 16 inches expected to fall. Mike is coming over, or so he says, but we know how that goes. I told Bill that I don’t care if he does or not. I’m not going to encourage or discourage a visit.

Walking around, I heard Madonna singing Holiday and now that song has taken residence in my head.

Thankfully, that was overtaken by Siouxsie and the Banshees, Switch from their first album, The Scream. That LP and the Ramones’ first album was the soundtrack for returning to North NJ from the Village in Laszlo Papp’s Plymouth Charger in the early 80s.

I’m sure I’ve written about Laszlo in the past. Another HBJ name and an influence on my life, somehow… we shared September 12 for our birthdays.

The hopeful pessimist

Fats Domino I’m Walking

Disappointment reigns today. Actually, it started taking root last night didn’t really have much to say to Bill. He seemed greatly annoyed the previous night with our discussion and his firm decision that we would never get together like that again.

And I, with just a hint of Pollyanna, was hanging onto hope, and perhaps it would, but it will not. Mike said he would leave if it happened to him, but I’m not leaving cuz I have nowhere to go, and neither does Bill, so we’re basically stuck together. Yes, there’s love, but I guess it’s more of a platonic love.

I am not going out to look for something. If I want something, I will save up my money and pay for it. I’ve done that in the past, and I will do it again. The price of being a selfish lover. A sex worker will do what you want them to do.

Mike is going on a cruise with his beloved in March? April? He’s very excited about it, whereas I feel like going on a cruise would be hell to be stuck with these people that I may or may not like. Bill can go, and I do not have to. Perhaps the way to do things going forward is to do them alone.

I don’t know, I really can’t say right now, but it is a remote possibility. Oh, Mike has been telling me that he lubbs me, which is the love language that he speaks to his beloved with. I’m trying to get him to stop doing that.

It is certainly true that my life was easier without sex, and then Mike came and showed me that I could have fun, and that didn’t last, and now I’m left holding the bag, so to speak, it’s not even a nice bag; it’s very disappointing, it’s bad.

At this point, I have to say I am grateful that they are both functionally illiterate, meaning they don’t read this here blog.

And I have mentioned to Bill and brought up to Mike that my feelings are transitory, basically, I might feel some way at 6:00 p.m., at 6:15 I might feel something different, so nothing is set in stone, especially when it comes to feeling, my feelings.

And they don’t read this anyway.

And wholly unrelated news, I am at the main fruit stand today, and it’s not so bad. Yesterday I messed up on an email, sent it to the wrong person, and expected to get chewed out about it, which is still a possibility with these passive aggressive fruit pickers.

It’s busy; there are some bold-faced names passing through. And some of those names will be at the smaller fruit stand with me tomorrow.

Friday morning, there is a meeting at the main food stand, which also has the capability for an on-camera meeting. Yancey is organizing it, and I asked him if I was needed to be there, and he said he would prefer it.

Now my hours are generally 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. but they do Friday and the timesheet goes in on Thursday and since tomorrow is Thursday the timesheet for the week will also go in but I’m not going to show up on Friday until the meeting giving myself another hour and make my life that much sweeter or at least that’s how it looks on paper.

So it’s all a big mess. And I suppose it’s mostly my own doing. Bill loves me. I love Bill.
Is it the same type of love? I really can’t say. I can say I am disappointed in the Christmas gift that he gave me. And I think my disappointment was noticeable. Mike remarked on it, and Bill didn’t.

It’s a device that will turn on should we lose power in the apartment. It’s for the computer, and the last time we had a power outage like that was probably 14 years ago. So basically, he has given me a gift that we hope not to use.

Did he use his imagination? Perhaps he did. Perhaps he has a limited imagination. I used my imagination to get Bill a few shirts. He seemed to like them. I got Mike a few shirts, which he gave to his beloved, which shows me I will never get him a gift again.

Yancey just introduced me to a young man named Derek Strawberry. Yancey usually tells people about my working in the music studios and the recording industry back in the day.
I regale them with my story of being at 6 West 57th Street and having a smoke when a kid came up to me, asked me how we could get his cassette into the record label.

It was then I had a moment and told him that the record industry was on its way out. I was struck by a premonition, perhaps a Cassandra-like thing, but I told him that soon he’ll be able to do this all on his own on a laptop distributed himself, etc., etc. For a twist, I tell people about that the young man was Kanye West, which makes them flip out.

The hopeful pessimist

A lot of water has passed underneath that burning bridge