George Washington Bridge | johnozed

It’s Saturday and so far it’s been a good day. Last night was pretty good too. Hung out with Bill who was non stop last night. Non stop talking. He was getting worked up on everything on TV. The Daily Show, Colbert Report, Olbermann with Rachel Maddow, the the Olympics, when he started talking ghetto which is quite a sight coming from Bill.

For those that don’t know, Bill is not from the ghetto and he doesn’t talk like that at all. It’s a running joke among me and some of his friends about how ‘non-ghetto’ Bill is. After a while though I needed to ask him to tone it down. It was getting tiring and by that I mean I was getting tired listening to him.

Eventually I started reading the latest Mojo Magazine wand tuned him out somewhat. After watching Michael Phelps win his 7th Gold Medal Bill went to bed. I stayed up for a while reading and watching a little bit of Oceans 13. I didn’t see Oceans 12 so I wasn’t sure if I missed anything. It didn’t really matter since I started watching this edition midway through and eventually I could not keep my eyes open.

Fell right asleep as my head hit the pillow. Woke up to Bill kissing me good bye for the day and him wishing me an enjoyable bike ride. I said it depended on the weather. He wished me a good bike ride again, leaving me to believe he checked the weather report before leaving. I soon got out of bed and was out on the streets getting ready for my day.

Ran into Linda who was my favorite cashier at the supermarket. She suddenly wasn’t there anymore and was replaced by several incompetents. I thought the worst, but here she was. She had taken an early retirement and was living on her late husband’s pension.

I was glad she was still alive as I thought she might have passed away. She’s an older woman who reminds my sister of our grandmother. I’ll have to take Annemarie’s word for it since I don’t remember my mother’s mother.

I was back in the apartment in no time, having a nice breakfast and reading the papers. Around 1:00 I decided to go for the bike ride that Bill suggested. Rode over to the Light Rail station on 9th street under the Palisades and took the elevator to Congress Street.

A beautiful day as I rode down Palisades Avenue, turning onto Hudson and through my old neighborhood. I saw Hector who runs Five Corners Liquor around the block from where I lived with William Charas for 11 years.

I always though Hector was so handsome and macho and had a crush on him for a long time. His hair is white now but he’s still a sexy guy. Woof! In a minute! After that lustful escapade in my mind, I was soon on Hudson Avenue heading to North Hudson County Park.

The hills were definitely a lot easier this time around. Last time I rode was three weeks ago and it really wasn’t difficult heading up to the George Washington Bridge through Cliffside Park and Fort Lee. I crossed the bridge with no problem, even stopped and took some snaps as the bridge bounced up and down under my Airwalks.

In Washington Heights, I took some more pictures on the bike path underneath the bridge. When I ride I tend to see other riders, in fact the whole environment as aquatic. There were a lot of bicyclists, more than usual and some were riding in groups like schools of fish.

Cars were sharks, trucks were whales, pedestrians were all different types of fish. Then there’s individual fish like myself cycling past various schools of fish. Just something that I entertain myself with while cycling.

Pics taken while riding with no hands! Look ma!

Under Riverside Drive

Ahead

Behind

Battles were playing Summerstage so I rode over to the rock and had a sandwich. Stayed for Black Dice who were noisy and fun. They had a beat going somewhat and I enjoyed them very much. I saw Battles last year at the Seaport and they were ok, but I didn’t feel like staying for them especially since I enjoyed what I had heard from Black Dice.

Went over to the skate circle and wasn’t too impressed with the day’s DJ, so I rode out of the park determined to avoid any confrontations with Eastern European Ped-Cab drivers. Back to the bike path on the river, riding past the Tibetan protesters across the street from the Chinese embassy, and the ludicrously overpriced ferry winding my way down to the World Trade Center and the Path train to Exchange Place.

At Exchange Place in Jersey City there was a Puerto Rican festival which I took in for a little while. Woof all around. A pleasant ride back to Hoboken followed. A shower, a nice dinner and now this.

Whatever

All in all approximately 40 miles today.

Tomorrow I plan on going to Summerstage for the final show of the season, Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings headlining. No bike, I’m going shanks mare.

RIP Jerry Wexler

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