Thursday, May 24, 2007


I got lost along the way, and feel so far from you all. A steady job has only amplified how aimless I can be, and I feel like I've let a few people down, especially in this birthday season. So assuming I have the promised day off this week, I'll try to make up for a little of my absence, though without gifts. I'm working on the gifts.

While waiting for the train to start its journey back to brooklyn, a loud, bearded black man moves into my car. He wouldn't come across as a bum if he wasn't dragging the enormous trash bag of cans he flung into the car with him. A bag of plastic bottles and cans is always fun because its size contradicts its light weight, and can make its bearer seem more powerful to those who've never seen a line at the local supermarket deposit redemption machine. This guy was yelling non-stop, and getting more and more agitated with each passenger who changed cars. I was closest to him, about three feet away, but he was berating someone else down the other end of the car. Maybe he didn't mind me because I wasn't leaving, and I'm not sure which of the reading/ipodding passengers he hated. Yes, he said he hated that person, and occasionally went into little history lessons about the spanish, puerto rican origins, and J-Lo. When he saw a rat across the platform, he told of how he picks through trash, and never got bit by a rat, except by a baby rat when he was trying to help it. Once the car filled up before heading under the river, he moved between cars, and eventually got into some sort of altercation with some folks in the next car. When we pulled into the next station, he returned to my car rambling about MTA supervisors, and then he turned and looked. I knew immediately what he was looking at, and what he would do, maybe before he knew himself. Then, he did it. He said, "this is an emergency!" and opened the emergency brake box, and pulled the cord. A pneumatic hiss came from under the car, and a collective groan sputtered out of the mouthes of all who were trying to get home. Some got out figuring they would just walk the rest of the way. The man took his cans, and got off the train. He started yelling at the guys in the next car while timid white kids whined at him, "hey you're holding everything up," as they walked to the street exit. I just sat there. I could see him walking and ranting and occasionally jumping up and down and flailing his arms around. The mexican-looking man across from me stayed asleep. A lesbian couple sat down next to me. I stayed put and waited for the police. The conductor, wearing hearing protection headgear, walked onto the car, and with some sort of key, released the emergency brake, and left. I figured there was probably a law of some sort against pulling the emergency brake, but the doors soon closed, and we were on our way, the man left alone on the platform with his cans. He could have easily jumped back on the train.

Friday, May 11, 2007

It's thursday.

People believe what you feed them. If you've built up enough credibility and good will, they will want to believe, and will rationalize away any inconsistencies.

I started the process of renewing my passport. It costs $67 to renew a passport. The guy behind the glass said it would take ten weeks. I asked how long the "expedited" option would take, and he said three weeks. An extra $60. So if you don't include that extra $60, your application sits around for a couple of months gathering government issued dust. This system makes no sense to me.

On my way back from the post office, Dawn and Frank pulled up in a red pickup truck. Dawn got out with the bottle of Miller she was drinking. Frank stayed in the truck because he was on the phone with his mom. He had a bottle too. We talked about jobs and the neighborhood until I was just about late for work. They seem like a right couple. And if they were cans instead of bottles, it would have been beautifully white trash. (Strip mall parking lot sold separately.)

What's with this new requirement that cabs have to have a video screen installed in the back seat? I can understand some car owner wanting to maybe sell some ad space and have tourism vids playing, but the city making it a requirement? So which investigative reporter would like to break this corruption story? Find the company that makes these screens, then find out who in city government that company threw a shitload of money at, and you will find the official who pushed this law through city council. There's got to be more important things for a governing body to do for its citizens.

A Balancing Act
A film by Marc Israel
I really liked it. I didn't think I would since, from the beginning, I figured I knew how it would end, and that end would have to be unsatisfying. Well, I was wrong. You ended it just right, and it didn't invalidate any themes involving the journey itself. I'm being understandably vague here. Of course a few seconds of Echoes of God, and a piñata reference help, and it was good to see you play drums. There's some great travel footage and cultural lessons, and Bangkok looks even more insane than I remember. Anyway, it'll give people something to talk about, and probably piss some people off as well. Too bad for them. Again, expertly pieced together, and always the perfect song. But, can you explain how it got to me with no postage on the envelope?

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Yes, it's the semiannual Verizon random phone line breakage event of May, 2007.

Once again, my phone doesn't work for no apparent reason. The nice computer voice said a repair technician will be here between 8am and 6pm. I was all ready to wake up early and go get a new passport, but now I'll just go to bed hoping that a phone call from a guy with a utility belt will wake me up so I can say a few nonsensical words while trying not to sound like I just woke up or am just completely insane. At least that's how it usually goes. I can't even post this blog entry until he fixes it. I say he only because it's always a he. Is there a porn where a female phone company person shows up and the guy whose house it is is in his underwear, and things progress from there the way only unimaginative porn can? And I'll reiterate what I always say when my phone breaks and remind you that my phone broke 9/10/01. That's why I had no idea that there was something wrong the next day. I was trying to find a pay phone to call 611, but none of them worked either, for some reason. But that's a whole other story.

Saturday, May 05, 2007


I liked not knowing where you were. I still don't know for sure, but I have more information now than I've had in a year. I just assumed you dead, and I could live with that. I also daydreamed about running into you some day, and still not wanting to be your friend, but maybe calling someone who might care, someone I care about, and saying, "yeah, she didn't look good, you should do something about it." So maybe you'll be okay, and many miles away, and I'll just have to get used to that reality. I still feel like it's a competition, and I've always known you were capable of winning, easily, now more than ever if the rumors are true, and I'll have to get used to that reality as well, and try a little harder myself.

Other people's art.

If anyone wants to trade something you made for something I made, Let me know. I have more walls to fill.