Tag Archives: Lawn hors d’oeuvre

I May Be Wrong (But I Think You’re Wonderful)

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Well it’s Thursday but it feels like Friday. A holiday weekend Friday no less. But still it’s a Thursday and I made it through ok. My brother in law, Rex had his heart procedure this morning and it went beautifully, thanks to the Italian cardiologist in Cleveland. I said she was Italian because she’s from Italy and apparently the only one in North America who could do the procedure that the numb skulls at UCSF did not follow up on, throwing their bloody hands in the air saying, ‘oh Rex should have come in for a follow up. I guess we should have told you, but we didn’t so you’re fucked. Bye!’ Yeah fuck you too bitches.

I got a phone call from my sister Annemarie, happy to answer it, but dreading what I might hear, but it was Annemarie crying tears of joy, that it went so well. A relief to be able to call my family and tell them the good news. Everyone happy on the family front for Rex. Good news at last.

Last night Bill came home, the third time in a row this week. It’s so good to have him around. He didn’t drive me crazy like he sometimes does. I don’t mind the crazy. I mind the moments of solitude when he’s not here. We watched the season finale of Lawn Hor d’oeuvres. And like the Olivia Show on Lawn Hor d’oeuvres SVU it had an extremely weak ending.

I could have written a better ending than what was presented. Jack McCoy, car chase, shoot out, love scene would have been miles better than the Elliot Spitzer rehash with the governor played by the young Tom Hanks look alike from That Thing That You Do getting off the hook. Bill was vocally disappointed, I wasn’t paying that much attention. I didn’t stay up for the news, I went to bed and fell asleep rather quickly. Woke up Bill still asleep next to me, looking so cute.

I got myself together and was out the door, dropping off God is Not Great at the library having finished it last night. Reading the New Yorker about a club in Hollywood called Largo. It seems it’s the in spot for hipsters and musicians, probably much like McSwells used to be in the eighties and nineties. Almost made me want to go there but realizing that if it made it to the New Yorker it’s time had come and the time will soon be past. Been there done that.

True, John Paul Jones never played on stage at McSwells but hey, we had Peter Buck having French onion soup in the front room with Julie Panebianco and that has to count for something doesn’t it?

Also read about a Jazz afficianado, or Jazz queer as Ann Boyles like to say. A fanatic, the last of a breed searching out Charlie Parker 78’s or Bix Beiderbecke sides from the 1920’s. He has a radio show on WJCR at Columbia University. It was a good article, and I related to it somewhat, though not a jazz fan per se, but the hunting down of records that I loved or heard about was close to home. It almost got me interested in jazz. Almost.

Today was the penultimate day for the sweet receptionist Lydia. That meant going out for drinks. I was smart enough to hit McDonalds and have a little something in my system before quaffing a few pints. It was me and Lydia plus Allen and Rossi. A few laughs over pints with the guys, Lydia sipping a glass of white wine. Marty Allen and I bought a few rounds, I used petty cash, Marty Allen out of pocket. Vivek showed up and gregarious as usual bought the rest of the round as well as some snacks that we could munch on.

Somehow my age came up and I was compelled for the past year to keep it under wraps, but since I was on the spot I had to tell the truth, I am 45. Their reaction? I was a young looking 45. I actually look as young or younger than them, excepting Lydia who’s 21. I act younger than them that’s for sure, excepting Lydia once again. After 4 pints, 2 more than I had planned I made an exit with Lydia, walking her to her train.

Here I am now, hearing that John McCrazy disowned John Hagee’s endorsement which is good news for the country and showing that John McCain really isn’t a good judge of character or a good judge of anything really worthwhile. Now, let’s arrest Karl ‘Big Ass Closet Case’ Rove.

Time to chill. Peace out cub scouts.
Here’s Ian Hunter, a dedication for Annemarie, Rex and Earl

Fly Me To The Moon

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It’s Thursday. No big deal. Last night was no big deal either. There was the dental appointment which went well. Only spent $90.00 for that visit. Spoke to my sister Annemarie on the phone. Her son Earl is sick with the flu and that sucks. But it’s the flu, he’s healthy so he’ll rebound with no problem. Came home, watched Law and Order Criminal Investigation and that was good. It was a repeat and it didn’t get hairy until the last ten minutes. After that was Law and Order the original that Bill was supposed to be in as an extra but they cut his scene. Nevertheless it was a very good episode and dealt with Jack McCoy in the second half, ending with a Bobby Kennedy tie pin from 1968 which touched Jack greatly.

Then it was bedtime for me. Slept really well, woke up on time too. Of course the first instinct was, ‘I don’t wanna go to work today’, but I had to. Many things to do today. Clients coming in, and I had to set up Greg Stevens conference call. I swear, if Greg ever figured out keyboard shortcuts I’d likely be out of a job. At least several times a day, he calls me into his office to fix something on his computer. This morning he needed to get the Microsoft Office helper off his screen. It just popped up and made Greg feel distracted.

There were a few other tasks that I had to do, and one of them was staying the hell out of Tom Chin’s way. He was on the warpath, but it didn’t have anything to do with me. Today is Valentine’s day. I ordered some flowers on Saturday to be delivered yesterday to Bill’s office. Of course they were delivered after Bill left for the day. But technically they were delivered on time. Apparently Bill ordered flowers for me on Tuesday, for a Wednesday delivery before I went to the dental appointment. By the end of the day today, Thursday, they still hadn’t arrived.

We made plans to go to Arthur’s for steaks for Valentine’s day, a nice idea since Bill and I haven’t seen each other in weeks, but somewhere down the line the plan changed and we’re staying here, Bill sleeping over, and having Grimaldi’s pizza which is how my birthday wound up last year. At least then we made it to Arthur’s, and since their credit card machine wasn’t working we bailed and came home for Grimaldi’s pizza on my suggestion. Today it was all Bill’s suggestion. Arthur’s, no Arthur’s, pizza instead. I don’t mind I’m pretty tired but I must confess I was looking forward to having a pint or two of Guinness, a juicy steak and perhaps a cigar while walking around Hoboken.

Still, now I’m in slippers, housecoat and curlers and I’m not going anywhere. Definitely looking forward to a three day weekend, have some dvd’s to watch. I have The Namesake, The Bourne Ultimatum and Hard Eight. I heard good things about all three, and I do enjoy the Jason Bourne movies. Hard Eight was directed by Paul Thomas Anderson so that should be interesting at least. And The Namesake is directed by Mira Nair so let’s hear it for Indian Chick directors! Namaste bitches!

And here is a pic of me in my Valentine’s Day finery. A red tie basically.
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And what is going on with the school shootings? Lawrence King, 15 years old killed at his middle school the other day in Oxnard, today a shooter goes shooting at Northern Illinois University. Crazy.