I Can’t Wait #2

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It’s nice having two days off in a row. And though it was not a Saturday and Sunday off, Sunday and Monday did the job just right. I slept fairly well on Saturday night and woke up after Bill left for the first performance of Destinations at Le Poisson Rouge, I headed out to the supermarket, somewhat groggy from not enough coffee.

I bought what I needed to get and headed home for a hasty breakfast before heading out into the rainstorm to the Path train. It was a good uneventful ride into Manhattan and I was earlier than I expected. I was in the Village before noon and had about 45 minutes before the show was going to start. I had a small cigar and walked the outskirts of Washington Square Park which was deserted due to the rain and construction machinery and trash.

I sat across the street from Le Poisson Rouge which used to be the Village Gate, on two milk crates underneath a disused marquee. I saw Bill heading in and shouted ‘Bill! Bill! Vila! Triple 5!’ but he was with a cast mate and didn’t hear me. A queue started and I eventually cross the street and joined the line, standing underneath my umbrella.

The crowd was eventually let in and I stumbled through the darkness and found a seat next to a piano. I knew Bill would be playing the piano at some point and thought it would be a nice surprise. The show started and a few people played the piano throughout the show, besides Bill.

I actually enjoyed Destinations. It was a good story, good songs, all performed by a talented cast. I enjoyed it so much that I look forward to seeing it again. After the show I met one of the other actors and she was most appreciative to hear my compliments.

Bill and I headed back to the Path train in a steady rain and were soon back in Hoboken, lucky since the trains to Journal Square in Jersey City were not running due to the rainstorm. We settled in the apartment, both of us talking about the show and how Bill felt about how it all went. I plan on seeing the August 24th show on a future day off.

Bill took a nap, as I surfed the net and made some dinner. A few hours later Bill was awake and watching me text my niece Corinne with regards to today’s plan on going to Sandy Hook. Corinne was in Asbury Park where it was pouring and supposed to be raining for a few days. It didn’t matter to Bill and I about the weather, Bill rented a car and we would be doing something. Plus when it rains up in North Jersey, it doesn’t mean that it’s going to be raining down the shore.

This morning it was still raining and we were still heading down the shore. Not enough time for a real breakfast, coffee would have to suffice. Bill had to stop by his bus depot and pick up a check. That was OK, the bus depot is in Wallington which is right next to Garfield.

We picked Corinne up and soon we were on the Parkway headed south. And it was steadily raining on the way, so much rain that I was starting to have doubts about what we were doing. I did call Connie in the Highlands and she was busy driving a friend to cataract surgery. And she said it was raining there and that people were told to move their cars to higher ground.

We made it to North Beach on Sandy Hook and almost as soon as our feet were in the sand, it stopped raining. A few minutes later the sun was out. There were maybe 12 people on the beach, not including the lifeguards. We wound up getting about 4 hours of sun, and thinking that this could be the last time this year that I would be at the beach, I went into the water for a spell, a bit put off from the flotsam and dead jellyfish, washed up from the storms in the past 24 hours.

Corinne noticed some dark clouds coming in from the west and we packed up rather quickly, with the good timing of being in the car when the skies opened up again. A ride to Rumson for some ice cream at Crazies. A good day at the beach with good company and once again, I’m a lucky guy.

headed down the shore


the shore, in rain




incoming storm, outgoing Sandy Hookers




I Can’t Wait #1

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It’s a Saturday. Saturday the 13th and there’s a full moon but it’s currently raining and it can’t be seen. Perhaps it can be felt but I wouldn’t know. Not feeling it you see. I didn’t sleep too well last night, went to bed before Bill which I rarely do and was on the threshold of sleep but never actually entered despite some melatonin.

Finally Bill made it to bed and of course he went right to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Then I got a Charley Horse which definitely kept me awake, forcing me to get out of bed and walk it off. I went online and posted as my Facebook status, Stupid Insomnia. Perhaps you saw it.

Eventually I did fall asleep but I wouldn’t call it a deep sleep and before you know it, it was time to go to work. I was waiting for the bus and got on, riding the bus into Manhattan just staring out the window. Since it was a Saturday and the trains couldn’t be trusted so I walked up the avenue, getting myself an egg sandwich on the way as well as an iced coffee.

I had plenty of time to sit and enjoy it as I was about a half hour early. It was Bradley and Jerry Vale and it was not as bad as I thought it might be. Jerry Vale and I actually bonded the other night exchanging stories about aspects of our respective sordid pasts. And Bradley was funny and somewhat gracious enough to let me play my iPod most of the workday.

As bad as my sales were yesterday I more than made up for it today, eclipsing both Bradley and Jerry Vale in sales when I sold a travel humidor which pushed me into four figures. At lunch after I chatted with Annemarie on the phone, I sat on a bench near the park and read the latest New Yorker, reading about Michelle Bachmann and the nut job she seems to be, while enjoying a nice cigar.

It was a nice afternoon, a warm breeze wafting by as I sat and enjoyed my cigar. Back at the shack it was quite mellow and I was pretty mellow as well. Some regular customers came in and sat in the man cave smoking. Since Bradley helped me out with the humidor sale I thought I would get him a donut when I was getting myself another iced coffee but he’s trying to get in shape, since you never know when one would have to punch a wall again.

Soon Bradley left, leaving Jerry Vale and myself to run the cigar shack and before we knew it, it was time for Jerry Vale to go and for me to close the shop which I did. Everything seemed to be ship shape so I headed down to the subway and took the first train that pulled in, which dropped me off near the Path train.
I waited for only a few minutes before I was able to get a seat and read about Neanderthal genomes in the New Yorker.

I also heard from my ex-roommate Kevin who told me he heard that an old friend of ours, Patrick Morrissey had died. I hadn’t seen Patrick in a number of years since he moved from Hoboken in the late 1990’s and I certainly hope it’s not true.

The only thing I could think of doing was send a message to Steve Fallon and ask him. I hadn’t heard anything from Steve yet so I remain hopeful. Patrick was one of the reasons I moved to Hoboken.

One of the first times I was in Hoboken I was driving down Washington Street and saw this somewhat flamboyant figure walking down the sidewalk. What got me was the fact that no one was bothering him. I thought that if such a plumed bird can stroll unmolested down the street then Hoboken must be the place for me. Patrick wound up being a downstairs neighbor when I moved into 201 Madison Street, and a good friend.