Tag Archives: The Beatles

Don’t Pass Me By

Well I broke down and bought the remastered White Album, Abbey Road and Sgt Pepper. When at Target the other day I saw they had the best price and after obsessing about it, I decided to bite the bullet and get some.

The White Album was listed at $18.99 which is cheaper than what I paid for it 10 years ago, close to $30.00. If you’re a cashier at Target, if there is no one on your line you have to stand in front of the registers and tell people that you’re open.

At the register (#9) it was marked down to $16.99 and then the cashier applied a $5.00 gift card, knocking the price down to $12.58. At that price I also picked up Abbey Road and Sgt. Pepper. And those were $13.99, at the register- $11.98 and the $5.00 gift card was applied to that as well so it was too good a deal to resist.

I was so excited about it that I told Rand and Chaz about it. And they do sound better. The CD’s. Rand and Chaz sounded the same. The records have more of a warm feeling, full sound- not flat like before. And I’m no audiophile.

That was basically the highpoint of the day. It’s been a better day than yesterday.

Online I sent the fat geezer from England who was giving me a hard time yesterday to the Spam folder never to be heard from again. I stopped by Tunes to check out their price and everything was a few dollars more for the remastered Beatles CD’s.

I called up my brother Frank, just to check in, to let him know about the Target prices. I was feeling pretty good, walked along the new walkway between Hoboken and Jersey City. They were setting up for the official opening with Governor Jon Corzine making a speech.

On the way home I had to get some juice and butter substitute and I got a call from Frank. I told him how the Target deal went down. He had mentioned earlier about how he would like a mono copy and I told him then that it wasn’t for individual sale, only as part of the $300.00 boxed set.

He said his friend Alex got it for $100.00 and I sort of disputed that. Outside the supermarket, in a good mood, last day of summer he mentions again how he’d like a mono copy. I said his friend Alex could burn a copy for him I’m sure, but I myself wouldn’t expect one from Alex since I’m not Alex’s friend.

Once again I get accused of being antagonistic. I tell him that I’m not antagonistic, I don’t appreciate being called antagonistic like he did on September 9 when the Beatles stuff came out again.

I was quite happy and thrilled and trying to share that happiness with him but he’s not having any of it either then or now. I told him it would probably be best to end this conversation right then and there since it’s going to a bad place and I didn’t want to go there.

I do my shopping and come home excited to hear the Beatles stuff. I feel a little bad, especially when I open my emails and there are 2 links that Frank sent. One was an R. Stevie Moore thing covering Elton John’s Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself and the other was this fabled rapid share list of the Beatles remastered from WFMU.

I decided to call him back and thank him for the links. I try to explain how I am feeling and during that he tries to interrupt me but I don’t let him. ‘Oh it’s all about you,’ he says. I tell him I am trying to tell him what is going on. He’s a bit put off that I didn’t enjoy a link he sent regarding an off shoot of Arcade Fire. I tell him I haven’t listened to Arcade Fire since May 2007 when I had my meltdown at their Radio City show.

I respect him, even admire him but what’s the point when there doesn’t seem to be any respect coming my way? He had another call and I told him to call me back if he wanted to. He hasn’t.

Now that’s the Junior side of the day.

The Senior side is about my father who died 10 years ago today. It’s hard to write positive things about my father. He did put a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs and food on the table but he also ran a tight ship, kept us in line by browbeating us or actually beating us.

He was 40 years older than me and I don’t think we ever really got along. There was never any moments of a hug and saying I love you.

Growing up I disliked him so much that I indented an X on his face in a picture of him and his siblings. He did try to make a connection I guess, but talking to a 15 year old boy like he was 5 years old wasn’t the way to do it.

I didn’t like the way he treated everyone in my family and wanted him out of my life, the sooner the better.

But that would never happen, even after abandoning my mother in Cape May and driving back to Lodi after my mother jokingly said when having after dinner cocktails at some restaurant ‘that she was fine and didn’t need his money’.

He decided to teach her a lesson by deserting her, my mother. He felt totally justified in this.

After my mother passed away in 1991, I was living in a bad situation and he was as well after losing his wife that I thought we could both help each other out. Everyone warned me about moving back to Lodi but I saw a side of him I had never seen before.

Loss and grief.

I was working in Hoboken and taking a bus to Manhattan and then a bus to Hoboken. It was a job and I had no other options.

One morning as I was getting ready to go to work, I used his deodorant. He must have seen me doing it and he says, ‘I don’t know what diseases you have, but don’t use my things!’ I could not wait to get away from him, I would be happy if I had never saw him again.

I lived with him for 3 months in Lodi and didn’t speak to him from 1991 to 1998. Before that I didn’t speak to him after kicking his pregnant daughter out of the house for a couple of years, until my mother passed away.

But of course he was around. At Xmas eve dinners at Brian & Karen’s my brothers would try to get me to wish him a Merry Christmas. I had done it before and each time I would be rebuffed. And once again I went up to him hand out for a hand shake and he would look the other way. I told my brothers that I am tired of being the ‘better man’.

To others he could be quite the charmer, but to me he was a mean, petty and vindictive man and I do not miss him at all. I didn’t like him and thought he was an idiot. I’m sure he felt the same way about me.

In fact, I don’t think I really became an adult (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) until he died. Bill notices my lack of self confidence and my zero self esteem, and has figured out where that came from.

It was oddly reassuring to hear from my cousin Jackie that he didn’t realize how bad things were under his Uncle Francis’ roof until after he died. It was good to get some sort of recognition of neglect.

So here I am 10 years later, butting heads with his son with the same name.

I simply cannot win with anyone named Francis Xavier.

But I will always give Junior another chance.

An hour or so later.

Just got back from a walk around Hoboken after dinner. Enjoyed a cigar, listening to the iPod. Thinking about my father and that classic line from Paul Westerberg from the Replacements, ‘He might be a father but he sure ain’t a dad’. That sums up a lot.

I recalled when I was living with my father and during a lull in our stormy relationship we went out to dinner. He was going on about how his mother, my grandmother, treated him like a prince and my mother treated him like a prince. What a princely life he had.

The thing is, around that time Jim Mastro and Meghan Taylor had thier first daughter Lily. Now Jim and Meghan weren’t selfish at all and when Lily came into their lives Lily became the center of all tings Jim and Meghan, as it should be.

I couldn’t (or can’t) help but compare my father to Frank & Elaine and their daughters, Anne & Rex with Earl and Brian and Karen with their 3 kids and how their lives revolved around their children, like Jim and Meghan. But no one would be most the important in my father’s life, except my father. It struck me as odd and made me realize that we were in competition with my father for my mother’s affection.

We lost of course since we weren’t the breadwinners.

He said and did some truly rotten things. But he was my father and he put food on the table, clothes on our backs and put a roof over our heads.

So for that I will say ‘Thank you’.

Daniel

OK, last night after writing I read my daily edition of Popdose, which is an excellent online source for music and other things. They had a very good review of the Beatles catalog being re-released. Or rather several good reviews of the catalog.

Let’s face it, this is the only time that most music writers would ever have a chance to review the Beatles as a ‘new’ release. At the end of the review was a free download of the remastered A Day in the Life, which I of course downloaded.

And I have to say, A Day in the Life sounded really, really good. I listened to it on headphones and I heard somethings a lot clearer than I ever did before.

Got me thinking that perhaps I will eventually buy everything all over again eventually, especially if I don’t get any for this weekend (and I’m not expecting to get any) for my birthday.

I even liked it enough to post a link to the Popdose website on Facebook, even stating that it included a free download. No one commented so I couldn’t say if anyone followed my lead.

I went to bed a little while after that. 1:00 seems to be the ‘go to bed’ time these days for me. Bill was up and out, kissing me good bye before he headed off to work at 7:00.

I stayed in bed until 9:00 which is the usual lately. I puttered around trying to figure out my day. I called my brother Frank to see how he was doing. I called him the other day but he was having computer problems and his computer guy had shown up.

He never called back which is no big deal, so here I was calling him again. I was initially calling to tell him about the A Day in the Life download and how good it sounded.

He asked how I was handling my unemployment. I said there is a sometime battle with depression but it usually doesn’t last. He asked about the Xanax and I told him I take it every now and then when things seem overwhelming and anxious.

He suggested anti-depressants and I told him I would pass, like I said the depression that I sometimes feel is momentary and I can get through it just fine. Still he suggested the anti-depressants again.

He still has difficulty speaking sometimes, trying to gather his thoughts. He also said I sounded antagonistic (or words to that effect) and I swear I wasn’t.

The thing is I take him seriously and try to be patient with him when he tries to talk. He doesn’t think I am patient at all.

I tried steering the conversation back to the Beatles and the remastering but it seemed pointless. He said we weren’t on the same wavelength. I made a joke about how we weren’t on the same Van Morrison album (Wavelength) which he didn’t seem to get.

It’s a shame, Frank and I used to be really close but not lately. There’s something like a chemical reaction when we meet or talk. He’ll always be the older brother and I’m always trying to win his favor while walking a tightrope and being true to myself.

It seems that when I am true to myself, and not liking something he likes, he takes it really personally and gets offended. Still, I do my best to be there for him.

I guess this is how it will be between me and him from now on. It’s also probably the reason I wasn’t invited down the shore.

I mean after the blow up between me and him in May with Elaine in the car as we meandered though Brooklyn, who would want to be in a beach house with two brothers at each others throats?

I guess he resents me, thinking I live such an easy life. But I don’t lead an easy life, it’s quite hard sometimes. The thing is I don’t complain about it.

Sure I’ll write about it on here, but as you can sometimes tell, that I occasionally start out bitchy, but by the end it’s over, or at the very least by the next entry.

I do love him, warts n’all. He is my oldest brother and out of Annemarie and Brian and myself I’m the one who is most in contact with him.

This afternoon I went into the city and helped out my old friend Dan Moore who works at Housing Works on east 23rd Street.

From their website: Housing Works is the largest community-based AIDS service organization in the United States, as well as the nation’s largest minority-controlled AIDS service organization.

They have a big event going on next week and needed some help preparing. Dan has been posting on Facebook, looking for volunteers. I replied a few weeks ago saying I would pitch in and I felt today would be a good day.

I walked over from the 23rd Street Path train and saw Dan who graciously said I looked 15 years younger than I did when we last saw each other. He quickly set me to work, moving things from their basement to a spot on the main floor where the event will take place.

In the midst of moving some big, heavy, cumbersome pieces of furniture who calls me but Frank to tell me he downloaded the White Album from the WFMU website. I tell him I couldn’t really talk at that moment which of course seemed to upset him.

As Juan used to say, ‘Whatevs’.

I helped move some more things up the stairs but after two hours, my back started bothering me. I found Dan and told him that my back was acting up and he was quite understanding and thanked me profusely for helping out.

I told him I would try to come back and do some more but for today, I was done. He invited me back for the event on Tuesday which was nice.

On the way back to the Path train I called up Frank who told me about the download from WFMU. He said they posted it on Rapid Share and I told him I would try to get it somehow.

Since I was calling from the street, the phone connection wasn’t the greatest and I didn’t hear everything that he said and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him to repeat himself