I Get A Kick Out Of You

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It’s a day off today, the first of a few. I am grateful for the time off, had to arrange a few things to get the time off as well as using the rest of my vacation days. It was not so bad working at the cigar shack yesterday and it’s not so bad to have the time off either.

Of course my body clock is a bit screwed up, I just had dinner (or lunch) and it’s not even 5:30. I slept quite well last night, and slept for a long time, waking up much later than I am used to. Once again as I lay there in bed, Bill leaned over to kiss me good bye for the day as well as offering words of encouragement before he headed out to work. I merely rolled over after telling him to be careful.

Eventually I did get out of bed and made some coffee before jumping into the shower. After a cuppa I headed out to the supermarket where I wandered the aisles and ran into Clara Suarez whom I used to work with in the last century..

She was getting things together for her son’s birthday party, a sleepover. She was dreading it, having a few 7 year old boys running amok in her house on Willow Terrace. As she debated whether or not to buy the bag of bagels in the supermarket or to head to the bagel shop, I wished her a happy new year as well as luck regarding a room full of 7 year old boys.

I made my way home and thought about, my plans for the day. It being the last Tuesday of the month I considered going to the Eagle for cigar night. I had done it previously this year and saw some closeted customers of the cigar shack there and figured since I had nothing else to do, it might be a fun night out, if only for an hour or two.

When I came home I checked the weather report and saw that it promised to rain with 50 mile per hour winds to accompany the rain this evening. Now if the Eagle was closer to the subway or the Path train I might have headed in but my once open mind was made up. I would more than likely be better off staying home. Plus since the cigar smoking is on the rooftop deck, with the 50 mph winds expected the whole evening might be closed.

So it looks like I will be staying home. It’s fine with me, plus I’ve been watching old movies on Turner Classics today, starting with Casablanca, I just finished Witness for the Prosecution. It turned out I had seen the last 15 minutes of Witness for the Prosecution in the 1980’s and I did forget about it, but I did remember how an announcer said to not reveal the ending for anyone lest the ending is spoiled. So now Touch of Evil is on, a movie I tried watching years ago but could not get into it.

The storm rages, the wind is hitting the windows and I am pretty cozy and comfy having just eaten my specialty dish, pasta, pesto and chicken. Bill is on his way home I think so tonight we will probably watch some more movies. I am not sure if he had ever seen Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but it is the 8:00 movie on TCM.

There are a few movies I also have on DVD, one of them I watched the other night, The Music Never Stopped. A decent movie if not flawed. Its heart was in the right place but it couldn’t help but be a second rate movie all around. It did remind me of how sometimes stroke victims or people with brain ailments respond to music, and of course it was inspired by Oliver Sacks who is one of my favorite authors/doctors.



19 Blue Red and Gray

I Gave You My Heart (Didn’t I)

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And it’s back at the cigar shack today. Christmas Eve came as a crawl, busy enough but not many customers as previous nights. A lot of people do their shopping after work and like me, once they are out of the city it takes a lot to have them come in again, especially for shopping.

So there was a considerable drop off in numbers but nothing worth crying over. I did quite well by the way. After the cigar shack closed, Zack and Jerry Vale sat in the man cave and two former employees came in for some scotch and cigars. I thought Bill would be outside when I finished but when I called him, he was still in Hoboken so that allowed me to have a cigar and a glass of scotch with this rogue’s gallery.

I did some organizing of the photographs and put them all in decent gift bags before heading out where I met Bill waiting for me. We drove up the West Side Highway to the George Washington Bridge, both of us exchanging stories- Bill having driven to Philly and back from Atlantic City and me weary from eleven hour days.

I didn’t know it, but the ride from the cigar shack to my brother’s house was probably the highlight of the night. We got there and everything seemed to be alright but of course just below the surface there was drama. This one was upset with that one who made noises about heading back to Connecticut. And when the rest of the family showed up the stress intensified.

I seem to always forget that my brother is not who he used to be and tends to get heated quite quickly. And of course he did, berating my other brother and I for not visiting the grave of our parents and maintaining it. Yes it was bullshit and yes it was Christmas Eve. And arguing with my brothers about British rock guitarists wasn’t as much fun as it used to be. Tiresome really.

Other than that, it was good to see the nieces and nephews, I don’t see them that often. They’re good kids. Bill and I rode home listening to the Beatles Christmas Messages which we were entertained by. And once we got home we exchanged presents, Bill got me a very nice external hard drive for my computer and I got him a nice glass topped box for his cuff links as well as engraved collar stays, upon which were phrases that Bill and I say to each other every day.
He loved them and I was happy.

Now at the cigar shack, there is a little over an hour to get through, Thomas being a stand up gent once again is closing. I get to catch a train about 10 minutes earlier than I usually would. Still I will take what I could get.

Now Thomas and Jerry Vale are discussing the career of Rod Stewart. Jerry Vale keeps mentioning the Small Faces when he really means the Faces. Big (or small) difference. It’s all the same to Thomas.

I remarked that I sometimes listen to the music my parents listen to and then Thomas remarked that both Jerry Vale and I are old enough to be his parents.

Ouch! He was right.



03 Dance This Mess Around