Tag Archives: Tom Chin

Shoplifters of the World Unite

Well last night was very chilled out. I hung out at home, watched TV. Actually was watching John Adams, quite sad last night. Also watched Marianne Faithfull with her 20th Century Blues, singing the songs of Kurt Weill and one by Harry Nilsson. She’s a favorite of mine. I saw her in the 80’s at the Bottom Line on the Stranger Weather tour. She was off junk and looking great, smoking up a storm, but then again everyone was back then. Strange Weather is a Tom Waits song, presently owned by Marianne.

It was also the song that kept playing in my head last Wednesday when I was caught in a power play in the office. It’s a melancholy song and it rings true, especially with the lines, ‘all over the world, strangers talk only about the weather. All over the world, it’s the same’. Yeah it would be a difficult song to link arms and have a sing along while hoisting pints. While John Adams was watching his son Charlie die, I was playing Scrabulous on Facebook with Julio and his cheap words. Scrabulous is a very unauthorized online version of Scrabble which Julio and I used to play back in his jazzy days. His words are cheap but admissible.

Still I rallied and won the first game I had played in a number of years. Bill came home last night, first time in weeks, at least when I’ve been here. It was really nice to be able to hold him while sleeping, and no, I didn’t throw any punches in the middle of the night, though oddly enough I woke up with some strange mark on my nose. It doesn’t hurt but still I have no idea what it is or how it got there. Just a small blotch about a centimeter long, and of course, it’s red. I don’t think it was there before I went to sleep. Bill noticed it too and I told him, maybe he hit me (for once) while sleeping. I don’t think he liked that humorous accusation.

I left the apartment before Bill and sat on a soon to be very crowded bus. Got to the office, once again before everyone else. The day off I had on Friday made it difficult to get motivated this morning but I got my act together and made coffee. As usual the dribs and drabs trickled in. One of the people I work with, Padma is very nice and very smart. She’s a PhD and we usually have some fun chats throughout the week. Today she asked me where Quinn was. Quinn is a guy from Ireland, not very social hence my never ever writing about him before. I think he’s a jerk with a brogue. He used to live in Hoboken and even owns a restaurant in town. I tried talking to him about that, he was so unresponsive I thought I should check his pulse.

Anyway, he wasn’t in. Last week Vivek told me he would be working out of the office more than usual. OK by me. So Padma asked where he was and I told her that he’s going to be working out of the office from time to time. No big deal, right? Well to Tom Chin it was a big deal. About 20 minutes Tom Chin comes up to me, telling me that I’ve spilled the beans. I immediately thought, I made coffee, and I don’t recall spilling any beans. I didn’t recall any beans at all, we get our coffee ground. Tom Chin was very upset and had me meet him in Greg Stevens office.

There was Greg, nice guy, a friend almost, sitting at his desk, telling me to close the door. Next to him sat Tom Chin, angry. Greg asked me what did I say to Padma. I told him what I told her, which is what I heard from Vivek, that Quinn will probably be working out of the office more often. Greg turned to Tom Chin and said, ‘No big deal.’ Apparently something is happening here and I don’t know what it is. I have an idea though and it doesn’t turn out well for anyone.

Had an excellent chat with brother Frank. He really sounds almost as good as he did before the stroke. Perhaps the seizure he had reset the wiring in his brain. Still has a lot of rehab to go through though. We talked about John Adams amongst other things, including my Arcade Fire meltdown last year. He remembered the anniversary. Still neither one of us could figure out what cause my anhedonia that night. It was odd especially since I had reread the emails we exchanged the day after the meltdown, when I woke up and realized the problem wasn’t with him, it was actually with me. It was a good talk and I’m glad he’s one of my best friends.