Central Park | johnozed

Just got home about an hour ago. Made a pound of pasta yesterday and I still have enough left over for tomorrow. It’s not bad. It’s the usual weekend fare, pasta, chicken with sauce. No pesto, that’s the Thursday thang.

Last night didn’t do much of anything. Wrote the blog, edited some pictures. The Olympics were on but without Bill’s enthusiasm it didn’t hold much interest for me. Today was going to be different. I was heading into the city to go to Summerstage and check out Sharon Jones and The Dap Kings.

Not a motorhead, but I thought this was worth looking at

I hopped on the bus and once in the city I decided to walk around, up to the park. I planned on walking up Park Avenue, a little out of the way because they had closed the street to traffic, leaving the streets to pedestrians and bicycles and kittens! Where they got the kittens from, I don’t know. But the last day for the street being closed was yesterday so no kittens today.

Too thin!

I bought a different cigar, a La Flor Dominicana Double Legero. All I know is that it was Dominican. I got a good deal on it and strolled up Fifth Avenue puffing away and look at all the other pedestrians and tourists roaming around in the shady side of the avenue. It wasn’t as crowded as it was yesterday. A lot less people, but still plenty of toddlers.

My cigar and a dandy…

Yesterday in an odd moment I was talking to Annemarie on the phone while in the park and I mentioned that there were so many babies, that I wondered if it was because of the blackout that I wrote about on Friday. Annemarie brought me down to earth and punctured my omnipotence. She’s good like that. Reminded me that the blackout was five years ago, not last year.

Rock people

Tree People

The line to get into Summerstage

I sat on the rock and enjoyed my cigar, no one seemed to mind, Other substances were being smoked as well. Of course there’s one in every crowd. Some guy in a white hat was sitting maybe thirty feet away from me stood up with his friend and started to walk away, but not before the guy in the white hat turned and looked at me and said, ‘We’re leaving. You’re ruined everything with your cigar. It stinks.’ I just looked at him and said ‘Bye’.

Be on the lookout

Next to where the guy in the white hat sat, was a couple. The girl said she liked the smell and the boyfriend agreed loudly enough. I thanked them and said that I though the guy in the white hat had an ugly hat. That happens from time to time, albeit rarely.

Some sort of confrontation with a guy usually. I think the last time was last year on my birthday. After lunch I decided to smoke a cigar and was walking down the street when some yutz starts screaming at me, hoping that I would die since I was smoking a cigar.

The illegal beer vendors showed up and I had myself a Heineken and grooved to the opening acts, Menahan Street Band, and Naomi Shelton & The Gospel Queens. Both were very good. Naomi Shelton was gospel of course and the Menahan Street Band were styled like the Bar-Kays from Stax. Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings were great but it could have been a little louder.

One more beer and a surreptitious puff and I had to relieve myself. Wide range of people in the park and a ton of tourists of course, all clutching tourist guide books in so many different languages. I watched an older couple, white haired probably in their late 60’s sitting on a bench taking pictures of each other.

Lot’s of toddlers climbing the rock unattended to, somewhat foolishly since the rock is riddled with broken glass in various crevices. No one got hurt. At least while I was around. Not on my watch.

Headed back to the Path train, crowded but I snagged a seat since I knew where the door was going to open. I guess that was a little bit of instant karma. I was soon home heating up some very good leftovers. Bill’s here watching the Olympics as it starts all over again tomorrow.

It was a beautiful day yesterday and it continues today. Last night was so nice I actually left the apartment and walked around for a spell. I smoked a Padron and wandered Washington Street. Cafes and restaurants were bustling.

20 years ago I would always bump into someone I knew, nowadays I don’t know anyone. People moved, sobered up or overdosed I guess. Some of you who’ve I known have done that.

I enjoyed walking around by Pier A, a few fishermen, some couples and various groups of friends. I’m basically a shut in, I go to work and I come home. That’s about it. I forgot about the social scene that exists in Hoboken.

Big doormen checking IDs from various vapid 20 somethings that I could have sired if I was so inclined. I probably fit the bill, walking around smoking a cigar whereas everyone else was wearing the branding that they pay a lot of money to promote.

I strolled by Church Square Park on my return, disappointed that the regional basketball games weren’t happening. I hope I didn’t miss them entirely. I could hear the referee’s whistle from where I sit in my apartment, but never heeded the call.

The walk lasted an hour and I was soon back home, not watching anything in particular and going to bed not too long after that. That’s my Friday night in Hoboken.

Woke up around 8:00 this morning, taking my time before I headed out to do some shopping. I needed to get some more Stevia, some lettuce and of course bagels and the newspapers. Came home, had a nice breakfast and tried to think of something to do.

I watched SCTV: The Early Years and while it’s still funny, it really hasn’t aged too well. Plus after watching current comedies without laugh tracks, it’s unnerving to hear one from 30 years ago.

I decided around noon to go for a bike ride. Nothing planned really, just seeing where the bike would take me. I wound up riding to the Ninth Street elevator and rode it to Congress Street in Jersey City. Up Palisades Avenue, down Hudson Street in Weehawken through my old neighborhood. Some new buildings have gone up since I was last up there.

I also found that some drivers are terrible when dealing with a bicyclist on the road, but the ones talking on their cellphones are the worst. Really dangerous to everyone. And I was almost doored twice. New Jersey is so NOT bike friendly.

I’ve heard talk for years of a path from Bayonne up to the George Washington Bridge but it’s just talk. The right palms aren’t being greased. I take the side streets which are generally wide enough but still one has to maintain strict attention to everything that is going on. That’s a basic rule when riding a bicycle and no, I don’t wear an iPod when cycling. I have enough songs floating around my head and they provide an ample soundtrack.

I had enough water and made it to Fort Lee safely. Then it was over the bridge which still intimidates me. I’ve been riding across it for years but still it freaks me out. No stopping, just getting from point A to point B, from New Jersey to New York City.

On the bridge I get passed by, by various ‘serious’ cyclists with more branding. US Postal Service Lycra and spandex gear, and various other bicycle companies on $1,000 bikes. I’m a bike rat. I wear the bike shorts but keep them underneath whatever shorts I happen to be wearing, and the usual collared shirt with a back pack on. And my bicycle helmet.

There’s a lot more dumb riders than previous rides, who stand at the bottom of steep hills and decide that would be the best place to have a chat as you’re barreling towards them going 35 miles per hour. Or the two blondes who decide that even though that certain bike path is narrow, why not stop and discuss hair tips right then and there?

I made it to Central Park unscathed, and rode over to the rock by Summerstage where nothing was going on, at least not at 3:00. I then rode over to the skate circle which was just starting up. Some of the same characters that I’ve seen over the past dozen or so years.

Roller Granny, The schizo man who was on some news magazine a few years ago. Great at his job but he occasionally winds up somewhere and has no clue how he got there, but still he winds up roller skating around and around. The buff brutha who’s been there for years. Even some of the same spectators I’ve recognized over the years.

I usually sit in the same spot which is opposite the unofficial Bear Hill. I found that out via Joe My God’s blog. I read that everyday and comment occasionally on it. Perhaps if I met Joe without his group I would say hello, but there were a few bald, heavy set guys and I couldn’t tell which one was Joe anyhow. I’m more of a wolf than a bear anyway and my lycanthropic instincts told me to keep away.

It was a brief visit in the park and I was out of there maybe 90 minutes. I decided to go back to the bike path via 59th Street. No problem getting out of the park despite all the bicycle taxis driven by utter and complete morons. I was on Broadway behind one of these twats when he decided to make a U Turn in the street.

He sort of apologized and I told him was an idiot on a tricycle who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. That’s when he decided to hit my back tire. I didn’t stop I just kept going flipping him the bird as he yelled Fuck You in a Russian accent.

I decided to do something on the way back. Instead of catching a Path train from the World Trade Center station to Exchange Place, I took it easy and treated myself to a ferry ride to Hoboken. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon. $8.75 for a one way fare that takes 10 minutes to cross the Hudson River.

I know that it’s the fuel costs as well as paying the salary of everyone involved in the operation, but it would be cheaper if I had a car and drove into the city myself. But it was an exorbitant amount for my cheap ass. A single passenger without a bike is $7.75. That’s not bad since once you get to the city you get a bus that takes you in the general direction of wherever you want to go.

Me? I have a bike, I would get there myself thank you. Shanks mare. Next time the Path train for sure. And I wouldn’t have to listen to these newcomers to Hoboken prattle on about where the best nightclub is on 14th Street. I enjoyed today’s bike ride despite other people being around.

26 miles roughly. Not bad for the first time since last year. It would have been further if it I didn’t take the ferry.

The Hudson River