Tag Archives: Cigar

I’ll Cry Alone

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It’s now Monday. It’s been a good 24 hours mostly. There was some difficulty getting back to Hoboken last night. One bus is late and that creates a backlog. I hustled to get from the cigar shop to the bus terminal and made it in good time, but I was surprised to find a line snaking around the corner on the second floor.

It wasn’t that bad, actually. The line moved rather fast and when I got onto the bus, I was annoyed by the fact that some choice seating was taken up by a young woman with one of those suitcases that you drag around.

The suitcase was a little bit larger than the young woman. And across from the young woman with the suitcase was a larger woman, larger than the suitcase. It made for an interesting scene, with the Inmates cover of Dirty Water playing in my head.

Came home where Bill greeted me at the door like he has for the past few days. We watched Boardwalk Empire and Bored to Death. Boardwalk Empire was good as usual, gets better with each episode and Bored to Death was charmingly funny as it usually is.

Bill went to bed after that and I stayed up not watching anything in particular. I went to bed a little after midnight. Slept alright and woke up a little later than usual. Went to the cleaners, the supermarket and the bagel shop all before noon.

Spoke with Bill who was working today. I sent Connie a birthday card and walked around Hoboken this afternoon, stopping by the Guitar Bar and chatting with Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro. He just played a few dates with Ian Hunter.

He asked if I saw Richard Barone at Maxwells this weekend and I told him I hadn’t. I’m simply not interested in seeing Richard Barone anymore. I would have rather seen Ian Hunter in any event, but I had to work.

I walked around the waterfront, nobody I knew there except for the usual panhandlers who don’t get anything from me these days. They seem resentful. I walked onto the latest pier in Hoboken, one that was supposed to be open during the summer. Better late than never I guess.

I enjoyed a cigar as I walked around. Bill mentioned that he had some shirts that needed to go to the cleaners so it was a return trip back there. He’s off to an awards show in the New York State Office Building on 125th Street tonight.

While I was on the pier, I received the number 212-123-4567. I recognized the number as the number that comes up when the last staffing agency that I signed up with calls. I decided not to take the call and a few minutes later I was notified on a voice mail.

Apparently the last position I interviewed for was back in play and the company wanted to meet with me. I called back the agency and now I have an interview tomorrow at 10:00. I was told by the recruiter that the interview might last 2 hours, and I might meet more than one person.

I got off the phone with the recruiter and called Bill and told him. I had forgotten the fact that the position was for the 5:30PM until 1:00AM shift. That’s doable, it will take an adjustment, but it can be done. More importantly it’s for a little more money and it is a Monday through Friday job.

I told Bill that it was funny, I become settled in the job that I have at the cigar shop and decide to stop looking for a new position until next year and I get a call with regards to a new job. I also told Bill that I was feeling a bit guilty, thinking of leaving the cigar shop right before the holidays, and also thinking of Don who is leaving this weekend.

Once again I am getting ahead of myself, not knowing what tomorrow will hold, as usual.

There is a new Girl Talk release, available for free at http://illegal-art.net/allday/ . It might take a while since it’s quite popular.

Tonight I am going to put a cover on Hyman Gross’ air conditioner. He’s been after me for a while. I told him that 8:30 would be the cut off for me to come over. Quite an arbitrary time, but I do have to do some research for the interview tomorrow morning.


Girl Talk


I’m All Over It

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What a beautiful day it has been. Simply splendid. Nice weather, not humid, an occasional breeze.

I slept soundly last night. Bill didn’t. When we left East LA last night it was cool and breezy and the comment was made about having the windows open while we slept. I was hesitant, figuring it that it still might be too hot.

But when I finally went to bed, Bill had the air conditioner on. I decided to turn it off and open the window. I don’t know if the open window prevented Bill from a good night’s sleep, but I think it helped me. I suppose we’ll continue the experiment tonight and see how that goes.

I was up hours after Bill left, and after breakfast and showering I dropped off a suit at the Cary’s Dry Cleaners and went to the bibliothèque. On the way I spoke to Pedro who got back from South Beach the other day.

He had a blast and recommended that I visit there some day. Unlikely, but I did not say no.

In the bibliothèque, Diane the librarian, remembered a DVD she recommended the other day, Role Models starring Paul Rudd. So I picked that up.

But my main thing was the fact that a book about the Beatles, You Never Give Me Your Money by Peter Doggett finally came in. It was released earlier this month and for once BCCLS did not say it was too new, like the message I got when I requested Iggy & the Stooges Raw Power remaster. And I requested it from the Hoboken bibliothèque.

So far so good with regards to the Beatle book. The prologue was all about 8 December 1980, how Paul was shocked, George wouldn’t answer the phone and Ringo was drunk. Cynthia Lennon was staying with Maureen Cox, Ringo’s ex when she got the call.

John’s Aunt Mimi was in bed drifting in and out of sleep, listening to the BBC World Service and not know if she was dreaming or not when she heard about John’s brutal murder. That was the prologue, not I’m in chapter one, where Brian Epstein has died and the Fabs are starting up Apple Corps. The book promises to be full of Apple juice and so far I’ve been entertained.

I sat by the river and read, smoking a cigar. The sweet Karen Kuhl stopped by for a minute. She’s playing the Pier 13 show tomorrow night, but I won’t be able to make it since it ends at 10:00 and I won’t be getting to Hoboken after work until 10:00.

She’s also unsure if she could make the party in 12 days (!), and that’s too bad since I had hoped she’d sing a song or two from the Gutbank days. She’s unsure like I said so who knows? She just might. Then Karen split and Rand pulled up on his bike, and we had a nice chat as well.

It was almost like a talk show, I’m on a bench and a few friends stop by for a chat. Simple premise. It could be done I suppose. I’d be willing to do it on Public Access, even in the winter and in the rain.

It would be a surreal affair and with me being me, I don’t see how it could be any other way.

I always wanted to have a talk show. I remember way back, growing up and sitting in mounds of snow with Donna Foglio and playing talk show. I wanted to be Mike Douglas and she was a reluctant Totie Fields.

A Beautiful Day in Hoboken