OK. Maybe it’s me. It probably is. I am at odds with the world.
Dave McKenzie sent me a joke, ‘They now have fat free communion wafers which left the recipients to say, ‘I Can’t Believe it’s not Jesus!’ I just tried to tell the joke to Bill.
I say the set up to which Bill replies, ‘They had fat in the communion wafers?’ No wonder I have a fat ass.’ I say ‘There goes that joke’. Bill says ‘No wonder I’ve gotten so fat’. I say once again, ‘There goes that joke. I’m trying to tell you a joke.’ He goes ‘I know’. The joke remains unsaid.
There’s a song that I like, Overkill. Originally by Men At Work, Overkill. I liked it then and liked it more when Colin Hay made an appearance on Scrubs singing the song. It’s a nice haunting song. I found a nice version of the song to play on guitar, not too many Norwegians involved. I wrote it in my trusty notebook and hoped to practice it today.
Today I went to the Soviet bloc offices in Hoboken and handed in the paperwork for the civil union from Saturday.
Also got an email from my sister in law who expressed some disappointment that she didn’t know about it. Well for me it was no big deal really. It’s just a civil union, not a marriage and akin to getting a library card.
No need to have people travel to see something that lasted almost 2 minutes. And once again, if I can arrange it, Bill & I will have a party, reception, get together in July, and that is when everyone can come. We’ll even redo the ceremony. The paperwork was handed in an I’ll find out whether or not well get whatever certificate they hand out.
After that I came home, did some laundry, had a sandwich and decided to go busking when the laundry was done.
I wandered over to Pier A where I saw Tariq and Tim and Tim’s buddies. I said hello and seeing they had the guitar case open to collect money I decided to move on. Tariq protested and insisted that I stay and play.
Tim mentioned that he was leaving. As much as I like Tim and his guitar playing, I think I freak him out. Here I am, this guy- perhaps his father’s age who raves about him and offers support and encouragement. Perhaps a little too enthusiastic.
Plus I find him intimidating, he’s that good on guitar and banjo and mandolin. And I don’t want to play The Weight or Down By the River. I like pop. Anyhow, Tim and his buddies split and I sat with Tariq. An older gent, older than me rode by on his bike and asked if he could listen.
He mentioned that he was learning how to play guitar and I suggested taking some lessons at the Guitar Bar. Tariq and I showed him how to play Sympathy for the Devil which has a total of 4 chords, just to show this guy how easy it is to play.
There was some grounds keeping going on, making a lot of noise and dust so I suggested moving onto the Pier and playing there. There were a herd of strollers on the grass and Tariq and I found a nice spot on a bench to play.
After a few strums, a disheveled drunkard wanders up pushing a cart. Tariq knew him and the guy sat down, eying me suspiciously. He pulled out a bottle which Tariq had a few shots from. It was offered to me but I refused.
The disheveled drunkard also pulled out a harmonica and attempted to play along, off key and out of tune. After sharing the bottle Tariq was a bit out of it and insisted that I play something original. I didn’t have anything original to speak of so I just played a few chords that I diddle along with from time to time.
The chords spell out a word which is the easiest way to remember the order. Then Tariq tried to show me how to play Black by Pearl Jam. I don’t like Pearl Jam and can proudly say I don’t know any of their songs. I fumbled along and when the opportunity presented itself I played Love Shack which got Tariq very excited, singing like Fred Schneider.
He doesn’t know 7ths very well so he just played major chords to the best of his ability. Then Tariq tried to show me how to play No Rain by Blind Melon. Another song from a crap band that I definitely do not want to know how to play.
Tariq insisted on playing jam songs and I told him I had the best jam song and proceeded to play Jamming by Bob Marley. After a little while the disheveled drunkard fell asleep and Tariq zoned out while I played The Lion Sleeps Tonight for a little boy and his Australian nanny.
Tariq eventually came out of his zone and had to head to the port-a-san. He asked me to keep an eye on his guitar while disheveled drunkard was passed out. I just played guitar when a slightly less disheveled drunkard came ambling up and picked up Tariq’s guitar.
I sprang to action, taking the guitar from him and telling him to go away. He insisted it was his friend’s guitar. His friend, Robert. I said that I didn’t care and to get the hell out of here.
He walked off and a few minutes later he was walking back with Tariq who apparently is also known as Robert. Tariq understood and said he would have done the same thing, not let anyone else touch my guitar if I was away.
The thing is I wouldn’t leave my guitar behind if I had to go somewhere.
The slightly less disheveled drunkard put his fist out for a bump and said his name was Eric. I told him my name was Allen. Tariq and the slightly less disheveled drunkard called Eric started singing one of Tariq’s songs called Dusty Roads.
I took that opportunity to say good bye and got my stuff together and headed home.
Ran into one of the workers at the bibliothèque. She was getting into her car and told me how she was looking forward to sitting on her balcony overlooking the river and watching the ships go by. She works at the library and lives about 5 blocks away and drives to work.
Spring is here and my disdain for most Hoboken residents is in bloom once again. Sleeves are shorter and shorts are being worn and the sight of stupid, idiotic tattoos are revealed.
Blog entry 1601