Tag Archives: Hoboken

I Should Be Allowed to Think

It is fucking cold out today. I know its January and this is how it’s supposed to be. It was 19 degrees most of the day, perhaps hitting 22 degrees which actually felt nice. Then the wind blows in off of the river and there is nothing you can do but quicken your pace. Now it is 18 degrees and I am not going out again. And like when it is very hot outside and the brain fries and poor decisions and answers are forthcoming, it’s very much the same when it’s below freezing. No time to talk, just get the hell out of my way. I decided not to go to the supermarket and picked up some Chinese food.

I rarely eat Chinese food, but I know it’s a hot meal and at a good price. Of course I got the chicken and broccoli and forgot to request brown rice until it was too late. So white it is, or was. I hurried on home and found neighbor Frank from the second floor moving recyclables. They had really piled up and it seems like our handyman Robert is missing or not doing that job anymore. I helped Frank as much as I could and wound up putting my dinner in with the recyclables.

It took a second or two before I realized I was not holding my food anymore. Like I wrote, it’s so cold that I can’t think straight (though I never really could anyhow). I found my food and after moving and kicking a few things to the curb I bid Frank a good night and climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. It was dark in the apartment, Bill is not home yet. I got the layers of clothes off and put the food in a bowl once I got settled in. And then I promptly devoured the chicken and broccoli and white rice.

The day was spent at the cigar shop. I was running low on cigars and Shlomo did ask yesterday if I could come in for a little while. I had no problem with that, but did not anticipate sitting in the cigar shop next to a mostly ineffective space heater and still wearing my coat, over a suit jacket, over a turtleneck sweater. Shlomo was there as well, spending most of the day in the cellar with a shady guy named Moishe. He had two eyes by the way, though an eye patch would have made a difference somehow.

I chatted with Juan online. He’s going to a wedding with his boyfriend and was asking questions about these trousers going with that jacket. I did what I could and tried to steer him in the right direction. I think it worked. He wants to look nice, it’s his roommate’s brother’s wedding. I finally got myself a haircut from my barber Tony. I did that last night. Glad I did though I asked for a trim and he went way beyond a trim. I really felt the lack of hair today whenever the wind would blow in my direction.
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Time Is On My Side

I Shall Overcome

Friday finally. At least I think it’s Friday. Wait, I am pretty sure that it’s a Friday. It was a busy enough day without a visit to the bibliothèque or the cigar shop. A lot of running around today. A trip to the supermarket, to the cleaners, to CVS, and to the optician. Yes I finally got my new eyeglasses. If you’re on Facebook or Google +, then you’ve seen them and you’ve loved them. At least 11 people liked them enough and I’m sure if Facebook had a ‘love’ button it would be worn out with love for this former stripper.

So here I am once again on a Friday evening, the rebroadcast of the Daily Show is on which was preceded by the Colbert Report. I caught the latter and now watching the former. Or do I have that backwards. I don’t know- it’s Friday. Let me breathe, let me put balm on where the tassels used to be.

Back to the eyeglasses- I like them and after a couple of weeks of not seeing very well through scratched lenses, it took some getting used to. And having progressive lenses to match my political outlook, it also takes some time for full appreciation.

Things are a bit curvy at the bottom of the lenses which makes a simple walk down the street feeling like the edges were done by Salvador Dali playing with a fish eye lens. The clocks do seem to be melting a bit more than usual. I always forget persistence. And they are transition lenses which get darker in the sunlight, though when I am wearing them I can never tell and find myself trying to catch my reflection in store windows or passing cars. And the glasses are not branded, though they do have Ernest Hemingway’s name on the inside.

Which means if Ernest Hemingway ever turns up and asks for his glasses back, all he would have to say is that his name is on them and I wouldn’t be able to deny that. Then he would punch me in the mouth before taking the eyeglasses away.

I’ve been wearing eyeglasses since the 5th grade. Everyone in my family wears eyeglasses and despite being told I was adopted most of my life, I guess nurture usurped nature and through a strange osmosis my eyes needed corrective lenses as well. I was seen squinting a few times at the blackboard in class and was able to use that excuse for lousy grades, ‘I couldn’t read the black board’.

With the proper lenses I was able to see better and my grades stayed the same, fair to middling and always room for improvement if I just applied myself. I was only supposed to wear them when reading but wound up wearing them all the time which did not make my eyes any better. My eyes gradually got worse and every year or so new glasses would be in order.

But you won’t find me wearing Dolce & Gabanna or Burberry or Tom Ford eyeglasses, not unless they were paying me to wear their products, paying me to advertise them. Since that is unlikely to happen, their eyeglasses won’t be adorning my face anytime soon.
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Happiness