Tag Archives: Padron

I Will

9 Replies

Writing a little later than usual tonight. Actually went out and did something after work which didn’t involve just going home. No, tonight I had plans to meet Rita for dinner. Apparently she’s just like me, go to work. Go home. Repeat five times a week.

So tonight since she’s off from work Sunday and Monday and I was going to be in the city anyway for work, we decided it would be as good a time as any to meet up for a supper.

But of course, me being me, there’s usually something in the way.

Last night was very quiet. Bill in Stuyvesant Town looking after his mother, me at home watching Where Angels Go Trouble Follows (WAGTF), and I really appreciate all the comments regarding the first movies you all saw for the first time in a theater.

I had no idea that there were so many readers closed off from society when growing up. I mean it was really sad. I don’t know what was sadder, me expecting some responses, (a single response would have been nice not counting Betty who couldn’t figure out how to post after reading the Laughter Yoga link I provided) or no responses at all.

I’m basically a slave to this blog now. It consumes my life, everything I see and experience throughout the day I consider it for this blog. Things were going well, I had comments from four people generally. Not consistently mind you, but feedback means that someone has been reading this. It crushes me when there are no comments at all.

Now that I am coming up on posting 1000 entries, perhaps it’s time I give it up. I’ve proven to myself that I can write at least 500 words a day, but without comments or feedback I feel I am writing to myself, for myself.

I was just hoping for some sort of interaction with the 6 people that sometimes read this. I figured writing about the first movies that people had seen in a theater would be a good way. Boy was I wrong. My sister gets a pass since she’s on vacation without a computer. And because she’s my sister.

Don’t worry, I’m not expecting an avalanche of comments saying ‘ no don’t give it up’, in fact I’m not expecting comments of any sort at all. I will be taking on co-editing another blog soon enough, something that you probably won’t know anything about since I don’t plan on writing about it here.

So anyway, after WAGTF, found myself watching Lawn hors d’oeuvre Criminal Intent which was good but sicked since Bill wasn’t around to watch it with me. Almost got caught up in another episode, but wound up watching a documentary on National Geographic about earthquakes. Very intense.

Then I went to sleep. Woke up at what I thought was 4:00 AM and looked out the window. Was the sun up then? Was I dreaming? It looked foggy and the sun was coming up. I wasn’t sure and went back to sleep.

2 hours later I was awake, it was raining hard out. I shuffled about, wishing I had the day off, but not really since no one is around to share a day off these days. After showering and futzing about, the lights went out in my apartment.

I hoped it was the whole building, or the whole city, but no, it was only my apartment. I didn’t want to have to go to the basement and flick the switch so I did my best with the little sunlight coming in through the windows. After 20 minutes I knew I would have to go downstairs.

Got my shit together with a flashlight and trudged down 5 flights to the cellar and flicked the switch and climbed up 5 flights of steps. Ate my breakfast, finished getting dressed and was soon out the door. Looked in my bag for my umbrella but couldn’t find it so it was up the stairs again and got a back up umbrella.

By that time it mainly stopped raining. I read on the bus, Simon Rich ‘Ant Farm’ on the bus ride in, pretty funny stuff, very short stories. Martha Keavney would like it I think, but who knows what Martha Keavney likes these days? She could be an anthropologist on Mars for all I know.

I read about the New Yorker to do. The cover had Barack Obama dressed as a Muslim and Michelle Obama dressed like Angela Davis. It’s the New Yorker. It’s satirical. They didn’t get it. Obama’s camp upset. McCrazy even weighed in saying it was wrong.

G. Gordon Liddy loved it, saying it was the first time the New Yorker was right about anything. Lot’s of press for the New Yorker including a lot of people who never read it, or heard of it before. Work was busy and that made the day fly by.

I was soon walking across town from Third Avenue to Ninth Avenue, enjoying a Padron and listening to the B-52’s which I had also burned for Rita. Had a good time with Rita at the Film Center Cafe which was showing Marie Antoinette in honor of Bastille Day. The 1940’s version, not the Sofia Coppola version.

After dinner I walked Rita home, sitting outside her building singing a Beatles song. I could have gone up and met her dog Lulu and seen Rita’s boyfriend Jerry, but no, I had to come home and write. I finished the Simon Rich book on the bus ride home.

Happy Bastille Day

Love Will Find A Way

7 Replies

On TV right now, Karl Rove’s dancing partner, David Gregory is mourning the death of the Bush administration’s mouthpiece Tony Snow. I am not mourning. He put forth the lies of the Bush administration and enabling the mess that we are in right now. Blood on the podium in the White House press room. No sympathy for the devil here.

Last night was mellow indeed. Bill napped as we watched Rachel Maddow filling in for Keith Olbermann until Olbermann goes on vacation again. After that I had a surprise for Bill who woke up in time for the theme song to ‘Maude’, the tv series starring Bea Arthur in the 1970’s.

Adult fare then, probably wouldn’t last in this day and age. So odd to watch a show with a live studio audience when most comedies these days go without a laugh track, at least the shows I watch. I could only bear 2 episodes.

Bill asked why and I told him I didn’t want to get caught in a time warp. 2 were more than enough. I wouldn’t watch the others unless maybe Bill was around, and he’s with his mother this weekend, so I guess I won’t be watching.

It’s funny how much of my liberal outlook was formed by Norman Lear’s liberal outlook. I guess I watched shows like Maude, All in the Family, Good Times and The Jeffersons while growing up. I preferred them to shows like Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley. Peer pressure dictated that I watch those shows, though I drew the line at Three’s Company.

After all the TV was my babysitter most of my life, being a latch key kid. I’m not complaining. I’d would rather have been aware of issues that were going on in the 1970’s then a fantasy from what is now 50 years ago.

And yes, Adrienne Barbeau had a very large bust. I never noticed it then for some reason. I only noticed last night since I heard so much about them. Today was mellow yet again, Bill off to take care of his mother. Me doing laundry, running errands.

A nice cool day, but a beaming sun. I’ve become wary of the sun lately. Can’t be out in the sun like I used to. Not good for the skin you see, and having had sun poisoning a few times in my childhood, a visit to the dermatologist is somewhere down the road for me. I expect to have things taken off my body sooner or later.

I’m not worried, it seems to be a routine thing lately. After years of being told to go out and get some color, it’s like the Woody Allen joke from Annie Hall where he says all the things our parents told us that were good for us, really aren’t. Sun, red meat etc. I went bike riding around Hoboken this afternoon, putting sun block on beforehand.

Crossed paths with Rand and Lisa who were prowling around for gate sales. Slim pickings this afternoon. We parted ways, meeting up later for a couple of Mojitos. I rode off to Pier A and read some of the latest Mojo Magazine, specifically the 20 years of Sub Pop Records being around. Sub Pop won it’s first Grammy for The Flight of the Conchords. A comedy Grammy last year.

I saw quite a few Sub Pop bands coming through McSwells in the late 1980’s. Mudhoney, Nirvana, TAD and a horde of others that really didn’t do a thing for me. I think that was when I started becoming disinterested in the alternative scene then.

Alice in Chains? Give me a break. I couldn’t care less. And today I still feel the same way. Even with Nirvana, I like some of their songs, but not all of them.

Speaking of junkies, I finally finished Tweak. It was a good read, albeit unnerving. Nic Sheff comes out alive at the end, and I really wish he stays clean and sober. I recommend it, as well as his father, David Sheff’s book, Beautiful Boy.

Now I have Simon Rich’s Ant Farm, a collection of humorous short stories. I read something he wrote in the New Yorker a week or so ago and thought it was hilarious, so I ordered the book from the library.

Support your local library. They could probably use the support.

Here’s some pics.

Nappy Bill

Authorized Personal Only

“It’s buried underneath a big dubya…!”

Who ordered the beefcake?