Tag Archives: Church Square Park

I Never

This morning I had a dream of being somewhere down the Jersey shore, staying with some people I don’t know. Friends of friends. I took a bus down there to a strip mall. Annemarie was around somewhere and while waiting for Annemarie, I decided to take her jeep for a ride, then I remembered that I don’t like driving.

Then trying to get back to where I was staying I had to go in quite a roundabout route.

I started walking to the place where I was staying which turned out to be on a very steep hill by the strip mall. I had to be careful since the hill was steep enough to be fatal if I fell, though it looked like a hill that you could roll over end over end and have a good time doing so.

Then it was trying to figure out how to cross Route 17 under the Route 80 overpass while trying to get to Essex Street. Also in the dream, Dave Grohl had made an excellent sketch of a princess.

That is what I woke up to. I know, other people’s dreams are so boring and here I am telling you about mine. It was all so very Nick Colas if you ask me. It was a good night’s sleep once again and that doesn’t happen often. Not just to me but to other people, interrupted sleep sucks.

I got out of bed and made the coffee, poured the cereal and was about to step into the shower when Bill came home in dire need to use the loo, so I just sat back and had some coffee and surfed the net. I was happy he came home safe and sound and decided to do the morning routine in reverse. Coffee and cereal, then the shower. It was a thrill really. I felt like someone else, though of course I wasn’t. I was certainly no longer hungry at all as I got myself cleaner anyhow.

I did plan on going to the bibliothèque to do some volunteering but when I got there they were fully staffed and in no real need for a volunteer, plus one of the nicer people on staff seemed quite bitchy and I decided to avoid them. I asked about the Open Mic thing in the park across the street and they referred me upstairs to the two blokes who were setting the whole thing up. They seemed quite happy to have my interest and so after talking with them I headed home and got my act together so to speak.

Bill was trying to sleep but kept getting interrupted by his phone so he wasn’t having a good time of it. My playing guitar two rooms away seemed to calm his nerves and yelled his approval with each song I practiced. I was anxious of course but determined to do something. I was thinking of it being a practice for Maxwell’s on October 25. I was asked if it would be OK if I was the first onstage and I told them that I thought I was going to be first since I was the least known out of all the performers.

I also backed out of DJ’ing for that night since it would only be a song here and there between acts, and the sound booth can get crowded and I did not want to get in the sound man’s way. And the sound man usually has the songs he wants to hear, so let him. That means, with any luck, it would just be me and Bill there since it is so early. I’ll be on stage and Bill will be recording me butcher various songs. The things starts at 7:30 and I expect we’ll be back home by 8:30.

And I have no problem with that.

So I practiced before the Open Mic and decidedly did not over practice. I walked over at the end of a Flamenco act that was very good and signed the sheet. Judging by the scrawl I should have realized that there were a few children performing. First up was Rowan who sang an acapella song called Fireworks and everyone loved him.

Then a friend of one of the organizers sang two songs, talented yet maudlin. Then more kids came up and sang who knows what. I was more focused on my slot. A woman named Shana came up to buy a smoke form me and I rolled her one. She was interested in singing so I told her to sign up. She did, and then walked away. Julio, Stine and Alexander passed by on their way to meeting friends at the Path train so they didn’t stay, hence the lack of photographs.

My name was called and as I was walking up the gazebo steps I was told I could only do one song due to time constraints. Of course if I did the songs I envisioned I would have filled ten minutes probably. But since it was restricted I did the tried and true Fabs, All My Loving. Two minutes and 14 seconds I was done. I plugged the Thursday night show at Maxwells and headed off back home.

Shana’s name was called but she was nowhere around. So Sasha, the bloke who was running the show did his number, all pedal effects which sounded like Tangerine Dream or Robert Fripp. I mentioned that to Sasha and he had no idea what I was talking about which could mean he thought he was coming up with something original. And it was, just reminiscent.

not a sewing machine






07 All My Loving

Straight Lines

Well not soon after posting last night, I put Land of the Lost in the DVD player. I anticipated Bill coming home and wanting to watch it. It seemed silly enough, no thinking required. I could hear Bill climbing up the steps from the lower floors.

He was lumbering as usual and as usual I greeted him at the door with a smile, helping him with his bag. Just something nice to come home to. I know when he does it for me I have a look of ‘what the hell are you doing’ since it doesn’t happen that often.

And it doesn’t happen that often since he’s not home usually when I come home. It’s when he is home, that’s when the look comes out. Probably my father’s patented look. It’s too bad, I know- Bill tries. On the other hand I don’t mind doing it when he comes home.

So tonight he doesn’t seem as cheery and I ask what’s wrong. His knee has been acting up lately and it happened a few times today. Popping actually. And he also seems a bit subdued. He says he’ll be fine. He just wants to relax. He has his box of Cheerios, his Hershey bars.

I sit and continue watching the Office which was a good episode. The 7:30 repeat. Harpy called in the beginning. He’s getting nervous about getting his teeth removed so new choppers can go in. I did my best to reassure that it would be fine when call waiting interrupted, Nature was on the other line.

Harpy got off the phone and I took the other call. After that I settled in to watch Michael and Jan’s dinner party with Pam and Jim and Andy and Angela with Dwight and his former babysitter crashing. It was just the right amount of uncomfortableness to make it hilarious.

Bill asked me about Lois DiLivio’s Shakespeare Reading at McSwells next Sunday. He wasn’t sure whether or not he could make it as he has a play opening the following Monday (which is the day I am starting my new job) but asked me how I felt about the reading last time in December.

I told him I enjoyed it. It was fun, surrounded by mostly friendly faces and familiar people. I got people to laugh as I read my lines from The Merchant of Venice. Bill pulls out a script and asks me if I would read for his reading on Monday. That was surprising.

I was unprepared for it, even though I overheard him talking to the playwright on the phone saying that they needed a white actor. I thought about offering my services but didn’t think anything of it. Now here’s Bill asking me to do the same thing.

Almost immediately anxiety set in.

Yes I would be willing to do this. I explained how nervous it sounded. I would be onstage reading with people I don’t know. Bill said that since I was able to do it at McSwells, so why not again? I tried to tell him that yes I did it at McSwells but I was among people I mainly new, they were friendly and no one else would be paying attention.

Bill mentions my busking, how I can play my guitar in front of total strangers by the river. In my mind I say to myself, those people just keep moving on. No one stands there and pays any mind to what song I may be mangling. And I am basically hiding behind the guitar.

Bill says that people were paying attention to us at McSwells last month. They could hear us, they could see us and they were very interested in what we were doing. I disagreed, since we were in that fish bowl area, behind glass. It wasn’t that crowded, it was early Sunday afternoon. And I was among friends having fun.

Obviously Bill believes in me and had been thinking about it for a few days. I mention that it would have been nice to have been asked a few days ago, now I have to cram this anxiety into 36 hours instead of having the luxury of spreading that anxiety out over a number of days.

We watch Land of the Lost. Bill liked it a lot. I chuckled once or twice but my mind was elsewhere. After the movie and some of the DVD extras he starts to get ready for bed. My silence throughout most of the movie went unnoticed.

Only when he went to kiss me good night did he ask if I was alright. I told him I was really very nervous. He didn’t understand that and said well actors take that nervousness and put it in their acting. I tell him that’s all well and good but I’m not an actor.

‘Well you did it at McSwells’

‘Yes but I was among friends, it was very relaxed and fun. I don’t want to make you look like an idiot for getting me to do this.’

‘Look if you don’t want to do it, fine. I can get someone else. I just thought that this would be good for you.’

‘I said I was going to do it so I will do it. I just wish I had known about it sooner. I mean, I was fine, chilling out at home at 6:00 and now at 10:45 I’m really not so chill anymore.’

‘If you don’t want to…’

‘I said I will do it. Just very nervous. I’ll be with people I don’t know, on a stage, it’s very nerve wracking. And my part, it’s the bad guy.’

My part is the white manager of a black sculptor in 1968 Asbury Park who screws the artist. I’m going to do it, but I guess I have butterflies carrying hand grenades in my stomach. All for the experience I say to myself, all for something out of the ordinary.

And there are typos in the script.

And now I check my email and I have an invite for an interview with an application attached to fill out.

Now it’s an hour or so later. I watched Jazz on a Summer’s Day, another library DVD, disappointed that it was only 20 minutes long. Interesting to look at the jazz fans in the audience grooving to Louis Armstrong.

I also read the script that Bill wants me to read Monday night. It’s not bad, could definitely use some tweaking here and there, some tightening up, but I’m not a script doctor. I will participate though. I’ve highlighted all my lines and creased the pages where they are.

Just some stage fright to deal with.

I wrote that last night. Things are better. I am somewhat more prepared for the reading tomorrow.

I also have a phone interview for another job tomorrow afternoon. Feast or famine it seems. I didn’t take the pre-screening application too seriously. My cheekiness might have worked to my advantage.

If I post tomorrow, it will probably be later since I will be at the reading. So hang tight.

I did run into Julio & Alexander this morning in Church Square Park. While talking to Julio I notice a bird flying in to land on a tree branch. I noticed it had a wider wing span and it wasn’t a seagull. It was actually a hawk.

Julio remarked that it was probably going to eat a squirrel or pigeon. Or mice. A few weeks ago when Bill and I were headed to Chaz’ party, as we entered the park we saw a cat jump out of the bushes. In front of the cat was a mouse that desperately did not want to be dinner.

Anyway, here are some cellphone snaps of the hawk. Of all times, not to have my camera…

Hawk in the center of the photo

Hawk in the center of the photo

as close as I could get with a cellphone camera

as close as I could get with a cellphone camera

Best photo of the hawk I think

Best photo of the hawk I think

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