Tag Archives: Echo & the Bunnymen

Fanny (Be Tender With My Love)

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Ok, it’s Thursday. Not much to report. Maybe I could make something up. No, not tonight. I’ll give you some mundane details. I promise, I’ll write some fiction soon enough. Until then some non fiction, some of my life. A pound of flesh for you dear reader.

Last night, I found the couch. It was buried under clothes and mail and Mojo and Uncut magazines as well as a songbook or two. Bill did a decent job in cleaning the apartment. It still has a way to go, but it’s a step in the right direction.

You’d think, two gay men living together, the place must be immaculate. Well that goes to show, you can’t trust stereotypes. I’ve always had a problem keeping things neat and orderly, and with Bill around I’ve surrendered to the chaos that surrounds us.

Normally if Annemarie, Rex and Earl were coming this summer we’d make an effort, perhaps even hire a cleaning lady to come in and do the things that we can’t seem to figure out to do ourselves.

We did that last year and talked about having her come every now and then, but we had more money last year and the Arcata contingent were headed east. Not so this year. It’s ok. Juan doesn’t mind.

He’s a college student so it all seems somewhat homey to him. He just sits in the couch and we watch the tv and get jazzy. Last night was the same only no Juan and I was doing a jazz solo.

Bill came back from the laundry and we watched Keith Olbermann then after that watched Dave Chappelle who was very funny, funnier than Keith Olbermann. After that, sleep. Bill was out at 6:00 and I stirred soon after getting out of bed myself.

Lot’s more people on the bus lately. Too many, and they all take my favorite seats. They always give the Hoboken run the worst buses, and this morning was no different.

I got off the bus, listening to Orbital as I picked up my free newspapers and walked to Smilers for my breakfast sandwich from West Indian Tony. Tony of course, asked all about Bill. He never asks about me, I guess that because I’m in front of him and by being there I must be alright. West Indian Tony can also predict the weather by how much his knees ache.

As I walked up Fifth Avenue I ran into a former co-worker. Daniel Begin, who set up a successful hedge fund which was also legal, and that’s rare these days. Nice guy, a fellow atheist and quite an intellectual from Israel.

I saw him last summer in Central Park with his wife and kids. It was awkward since I was beat from riding from Hoboken to the George Washington Bridge over and down to Central Park. Plus my eyes were a little bloodshot from a quick jazz improvisation off the bike path.

Not this morning though. We exchanged pleasantries and business cards and we were both on our separate ways. He asked me to tell my boss, Greg Stevens that he had said hello. Greg remarked that I always seem to be bumping into former co-workers and it’s true I do.

I saw the former head of Wanker Banker this morning too. His new company is across the street from my building so I see him fairly often.

Work was slow today. I had to see a vendor, someone who is trying to get my company signed up with her mobile phone service. They never take no for an answer and I was pigeonholed. She was nice and most guys that aren’t gay would love to spend time with her. Me? I just told her some horror stories about cellphone service, she works for T-Mobile which is my carrier.

She listened politely while telling me more and more about how the Blackberries she is promoting are the very best and give good value. I think deep down she knew she wasn’t going to get anything from me, everyone already has a Blackberry with their own service and they aren’t about to switch.

I told her I would bring it up at the next budget meeting next week, which isn’t going to happen. I did get her name which is the title of this post. After that was my special Thursday lunch, penne, pesto and chicken. I was quite a gavone while I ate.

Walked to the bus terminal after work listening to Public Enemy, then I saw a t-shirt that said ‘Never Stop’ so I switched over to Echo and the Bunnymen. Sat in a crappy seat and read ‘Tweak’ by Nic Sheff, the son of David Sheff who wrote the last book I read, ‘Beautiful Boy’ about his son’s addiction to methamphetamine. This is even more harrowing since it’s written by the junkie son. It’s a sad story.

Again and Again and Again

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Well it’s Monday. The big news today was all about New York Governor, Eliot Spitzer being caught in a prostitution ring, based out of Cliffside Park. He was known as client #9 of call girls who charge in the range of $1000 to $5000. It’s fucked up, that he fucked up. I wouldn’t be so concerned but via 6 degrees of separation I’m somehow connected to this. Not in any big way, but in the most basic sense of the 6 degrees. Someone knows someone who runs the household up in Albany.

It would suck if she got fired because of Spitzer’s resignation which some people are calling for, whereas others are saying that it if Bill Clinton could get through the Lewinsky mess, then why can’t Spitzer? Before that things were pretty much copacetic. Damn daylight savings fucked me up this morning. Intercourse that extra hour of daylight. I don’t like waking up when it’s dark outside and it was plenty dark this morning at 6:00. Still I rallied and did the things I do when I am getting ready to go to work.

Made it on time to catch the bus, finished the New Yorker, finished Hotel California and the new Mojo and Uncut Magazines are not on the stands yet. Actually Uncut is but I buy the magazines in pairs so I just couldn’t buy one without the other. A small concession to being anal retentive perhaps? Made it across town this morning cutting through Grand Central listening to Echo and The Bunnymen. That was fun, good beat enabled me to swiftly walk through the crowds pouring out of Metro North trains.

Outside the Waldorf Astoria there were a few trucks for tonight’s broadcast of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I did enter a contest to attend but since I didn’t win, I don’t care about the Hall of Fame. I’m inclined to agree with David Bowie who turned down the nomination a few years ago. In 1997 I did see the Rascals rehearse for their induction. My boss- the producer, Arif Mardin produced them back in the day and I had to deliver some papers to the rehearsal space for Arif to sign. I was instructed not to hang out but Arif insisted that I hear one or two songs and who was I to disagree? That year the Hall of Fame ceremony was in Cleveland, OH. So I wasn’t going to attend anyhow.

Today I occasionally have to report to Tom Chin and things had been good lately, until this morning. Lydia the receptionist had asked him about something and for some reason he started yelling at her, threatening to yell at me through her. I heard my name mentioned and I stepped in to find Tom Chin yelling because of a simple question. He started yelling at me about something I had nothing to do with. I told him that in a voice slightly higher and authoritative than his. He backed down and I took Lydia aside and told her, from now on (until May when she leaves) she should talk to me before she has anything to do with Tom Chin.

I can more than likely head things off at the pass and keep the bad vibes from Tom Chin to a minimum. He did lighten up later in the day. It’s usually best that we keep contact to a minimum. It is tax time and he’s the Chief Financial Officer. Two weeks ago he was upset that I ordered notepads and pencils. He’s the King Knucklehead in the office. The Wire ended it’s run last night and I liked it a lot. It will require seeing it again. Sad endings with an occasional smile. No tears though, that’s for sure. No redemption for Baltimore. It goes on and then it goes around again.