Tag Archives: Cassie

None of Your Business

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Another day with a battleship gray sky. Makes for a good nap, though I didn’t take a nap today. Lot’s of phone calls though.

Last night on the way to the train station I stopped by City Hall here in Hoboken where there were a few Manson girls outside. The Westboro Baptist Church were in town protesting the fact that Peter Cammarano, the former Mayor of Hoboken was caught in a sting.

Why did they come from Kansas to Hoboken? Because an Orthodox Jewish man was the contact used by the government to ensnare the Mayors of Hoboken and Secaucus as well as a few officials in Jersey City.

You see to the Manson girls, God Hates Jews and God Hates Fags. In fact their website is called GodHatesFags. They’re also known to picket funerals for fallen soldiers because God Hates America and all the nation’s bad news comes from the fact that LGBT are making inroads for equality.

So their god is punishing the whole country. Funny thing is, their god sends a lot of tornados and causes droughts in their neck of the woods and not so much in the liberal bastions that exist on each coast.

To a believer (which I most certainly am not) it would look like their god hates them. I call these people the Manson girls since they resemble that group that used to assemble outside the LA Courthouse where Manson and his girls were on trial for the Tate/La Bianca murders.

All they need to complete the look are shaved heads and a swastika carved into their hollow skulls. Oh the age of reason will never reach Kansas, much like it won’t reach the Middle East. No renaissance, no age of enlightenment.

Some people prefer the Middle Ages and want to drag all of us back there with them. The Manson girls headed next to Secaucus, to come back to Hoboken to protest outside the local Synagogue.

I couldn’t stick around for that, I was heading to Hillsdale with Bill to see my niece sing in her high school talent show. Bill and I were both looking forward to it. Hillary was singing Day by Day from Godspell.

An uneventful train ride though the roly poly old man sitting opposite us on the train couldn’t help but give Bill and I dirty looks as he drank his 2 cans of Coors Light, (the beer of fascists) and gobbled salted peanuts by the handful.

He also grumbled when Bill had to talk on his cellphone, albeit quietly. Bill and I should have started making out just to make him pop a blood vessel in his head.

My brother Brian picked us up at the train station and drove us to the high school where Karen was waiting. My other niece Cassie was running around selling tickets for the 50/50. Bill bought a few, I looked askance.

After eating some very good brownies we sat in the auditorium and were entertained by a wholesome group of young people. Most of them played acoustic guitars and most were quite talented.

Hillary and her friend sounded quite good and got a deserved round of applause. Bill and I also met Chris, Hillary’s boyfriend who seemed like a nice young man.

After the show we all piled into Brian’s car, dropping off Karen and the girls at home and continuing to Hohokus where we missed the train so then it was onto Ridgewood where we caught it.

Nice ride back, no roly poly busy bodies giving us the hairy eyeball. We were home earlier than expected, Bill went to bed soon after, I stayed up watching a documentary on Annie Leibowitz.

It was a pretty good night, overall. Good to see the Hillsdale O’Tooles, but then again it always is.

Ask Me Why

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It’s a dreary gray Friday afternoon. I got out of work around 2:30 this afternoon and rather than walk across midtown enjoying a birthday cigar I took a subway which I rarely do. It was raining but not hard enough to warrant an umbrella since I only had to walk a block or so.

Now I have that ‘I might have napped too long’ feeling despite the fact I didn’t really have a restful nap. Phone calls and phone buzzing kept interrupting. Missed a birthday greeting from Chaz, but earlier I did speak with my sister Annemarie, as well as a voice mail from her and my nephew Earl.

Also heard from Queen Jane Approximately, Constant Connie, Sweet Sarah and Brenda Bubbles, Adorable Adrienne and Lovely Rita and Harpy and Julio and Stine with a picture of that adorable little man, Alexander.

Text messages from assorted nieces and maybe my brother Brian or his son Brian. I just can’t tell. Actually I can tell. I just checked and it was from my brother. My other brother Frank hasn’t called and that means if he doesn’t call later, he will call on the weekend and feel bad about not calling on my birthday.

It’s not a big deal. It would have been years ago. It might have been last year. But this year? Eh, no biggie. Last year Bill gave me a saucepan for a birthday present. I found it an odd present since I’m not much of a cook or a foodie.

I don’t watch the Food Network, or Armenia’s Next Top Chef or Gordon Ramsey or whatever. But since the spot where I get my penne, pesto and chicken in Manhattan, Cafe Fonduta went under I have been lacking pesto in my life.

So having watched the guys prepare the pesto, I think I can do it myself and finally have a reason to break out that sauce pan. It’s still in the box. I figure I can take a teaspoon of pesto, some heavy cream, some olive oil and imitate the guys. Or I can try to look it up online somewhere.

Perhaps there’s a video on YouTube that shows the How To.
Or perhaps you dear reader, would have a recipe to make a nice pesto sauce.

Bill just came home and we’re going to go out for some steaks at Arthur’s steakhouse on Washington Street. Hopefully it will be better than last year, when we went for my birthday after a few other things going wrong earlier in the day.

My churlishness towards the saucepan (embarrassing 365 days later) and the fact that some disgruntled mail room worker wished that I would die since I had decided to smoke a Padron and walk along Park Avenue during my lunch hour.

Birthday wishes also came from some new Facebook friends (Andres et al.) as well as a dear friend, Betti Cola. It’s still raining and my bones are tired after tossing and turning in the late gray afternoon but in a few minutes Bill and I will head over to Arthur’s where hopefully they will have their credit card machines up and running, unlike last year.

Just got back, excellent dinner with Bill. Arthur’s wasn’t too crowded, credit card machine in order and I was caught by surprise with a few waitresses singing Happy Birthday to me with a wonderful slice of chocolate mousse cake with a candle on top. I turned a thousand shades blushing.

A walk around Washington Street followed, me finally enjoying my birthday cigar in the misty evening.

That seems to be it for the day. Loveliness abounds.

Here’s some quite recent snaps as well as something else. Thank you for your good wishes

and here I thought I wasn’t going to write tonight!