Hoboken | johnozed

Sunday, back to work. Ho hum, hum drum. Not such a bad day, things weren’t messy this morning. I guess most of the party goers last night, refrained from vomiting or smashing bottles on the sidewalk. Don’t know how bad it was in various parts of town but where I walked it was merely a plastic green bowler hat crumpled in the gutter. Didn’t hear much of a racket as I went to bed around 1:30. Bill came home last night and that was good. He didn’t drive me crazy, and hopefully I didn’t drive him crazy either. I doubt that I ever do, except for being a pain in the tuckus every now and then.

Before Bill came home last night I watched Night At The Museum and I couldn’t believe how bad it was. It got ok towards the end but man what a stinker. Much better was Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. Finally saw the last half and it was pretty good. I do enjoy the Harry Potter movies, ever since seeing the first one in 2001 with Annemarie, Rex and Earl in Eureka. Haven’t read the books yet, not sure if I will. Maybe if someone lends them to me, maybe if I’ve read everything else I have to read.

What I’m reading now, courtesy of the Hoboken Library is Hotel California by Barney Hoskyns, a British writer who has written for Q, Mojo and Uncut among others. I’ve always enjoyed his writing, and met him once when he was interviewing Metallica at Right Track Recording in the 90’s. It was good having Bill home last night, it enabled him to let his walls down. He’s doing his best to be strong for his mother, but here he was able to cry like he hadn’t for a few days. I was able to give him a hug and make him feel better.

No Grimaldi’s Pizza though since all restaurants were packed with revelers and deliveries were slow going. We watched George Carlin on his latest HBO special last night. George, now 70, is a humorous curmudgeon. He doesn’t try to be funny, he just rants on stage and there’s usually something funny in the truth that he says. He also riffed a lot about death which Bill was able to laugh about much to my relief. We watched Saturday Night Live after that and that was ok. Not rip roaring, but generally funny. They still have to figure out how to end a sketch though, they do run too long. Sometimes they’re just stretched a bit too thin.

I went to bed after watching the last half of Bill Maher. Bill hadn’t seen that in a while. After that I went to bed, Bill falling asleep next to me about a half hour later. Woke up, shuffled about, Bill out cold in bed, looking like a big mocha angel bear. I ran out and got some bagels, and the papers, Bill woke up a few hours later as I was watching The Namesake. He joined me as I watched that and he got somethings out of that, which I won’t get into in case you haven’t seen that movie yet. Bill headed back into the city to tend to his mother, his weekend visitation coming to an end.

Julio called after that and needed my help moving some Ikea things from his truck to his and Stine’s apartment. Hung out with them for a while, Stine has gotten bigger than last week when I last saw them at the bistro in midtown after Bill’s father’s wake. Then I walked around Hoboken, noticing the lack of people on the street compared to yesterday’s festivities.

Here’s some more pics.

Soup Man

Letter in the Male Box

Even a broken clock is correct twice a day

Saw this jet flying weirdly

Afternoon Snog

On the phone with Annemarie

No dogs in church

St. Patrick’s Day in Hoboken. At 10:00 this morning there were crowds congregating on street corners. Not waiting for the parade, but waiting for the bars to open, or heading off to parties. At 10:00AM, you can hear various parties going on in apartments, walking through Hoboken this morning. The bagel shop had a line out to the street and most bagels were sold out. I was lucky to get a green poppy seed bagel. And the supermarket was filled with newly of age drinkers, buying all the beer they could carry. I had to go to the library to pick up a book that I had on hold and Diane, the head librarian likened Hoboken today as being one big frat party. And she hit it on the head.

It was packed everywhere I went. Lines out the door into the streets. And all before noon. I got what I could and headed home, for breakfast, followed by laundry. I had a few errands to run so I timed it that after the laundry I could do the errands which was paying the cable bill and getting my new Stevia. It was time for the parade and so I found a good spot on Washington Street to wait. In between two bars in the sun.

I spoke with Rand aka El Jefe and mentioned that he and Lisa aka Lady Gigglepuss were planning on watching the parade. I told them were I was and soon enough they joined me. Lot’s of pipe and drum and bagpipers and kilts. In 35 degree weather which occasionally felt a lot colder. We were situated next to a few guys who I dubbed the Horny Boys. Just because every vehicle that went by they pleaded with the driver to honk the horn or sound the siren or ring the alarm. And the Horny Boys would get so jubilant when the request was granted, no matter how squeaky the sound. It was very funny and everyone in the area had a good laugh every time, including the marchers.

This year the person in the Guinness suit, someone who looks like a big pint of Guinness was on the back of a pick up truck, more than likely due to the fact that Mr. Pint of Guinness has gotten jumped by various drunker parade watchers cum participants. It’s a short parade with representatives from as far as Somerset and Passaic. Some Hibernians marched but I don’t think they had any connection to the ancient twits that run the New York parade. Even though online Hoboken is Gay City, on the street it’s mainly invisible and I don’t think there’s ever been an attempt to march in the Hoboken St. Patrick’s Parade and I doubt there would be any problem, but who the hell wants to march in freezing cold weather? Been there, done that. Next!

It’s now about 6:00 and I need to run to the store. I’m thinking of going down Washington Street just to see what that looks like three hours later. How strong are these kid’s livers? Or their stomachs? We shall see.

I just got back from walking down Washington Street at 6:00PM. Craziness. Now there are still crowds of young drinkers queuing up outside of various bars, and occasional singles and pairs walking all over the place, unable to walk in a straight line. Drunken young men yelling into cellphones, ‘That’s not what I said! That’s not what I meant!’

Drunken Firefighters off duty in dress blues passively fending off drunken young women. Most stores have signs on their doors saying that the rest rooms are out of order, and they probably are. People new to the country, new to Hoboken look on bemusedly and confused by all the festivities of young women teetering on too high heels and young men in green t shirts with thermal tops underneath. Now is the time to stay inside. Plus Bill just got here and I think it’s the first time in a long time that he can be himself. Which means he will drive me crazy in an hour. That was a joke. Two hours at most.

Here are some pics

Before the parade