Wandering aimlessly

Roof is leaking.

2011-11-23T00:18:00.003-05:00

I say that only so that there is a record of it.

The squeaky wheel gets the grease, and I'm sick and tired of those squeaky wheels, and their inability to step up to the plate and face their responsibilities, while forgetting there are other people in the world. I was supposed to have two tests today. Rough, but doable, and complaining, I thought, would be counterproductive. Last night, I, and the rest of my math class, got an email from a classmate asking each of us to email our professor to ask him to postpone the test til next week. I thought nothing of it. This guy is failing the class, and a week won't help. Well, I get to class, and the test is postponed. Now, we only meet four more times in this class, and we have a lot of material to cover. But, fine, we'll take it next week. Too bad I studied for this test now, when I could have been spending all that time studying for the other test I took today. Total bullshit, and points off for my professor for giving in.

I just read the rules for a photo contest, and they included this section:

CONTEST IS VOID IN ARIZONA, CUBA, IRAN, NEW JERSEY, NORTH KOREA, THE PROVINCE OF QUEBEC, SUDAN, SYRIA, VERMONT AND WHERE PROHIBITED.

Interesting combination.

Happy Halloween.

2011-10-30T13:12:00.000-04:00

Explaining abandoned lots.

2011-09-27T23:49:00.001-04:00

You're gonna need a bigger desk.

2011-09-13T01:03:00.000-04:00

My Physics text book is 1300 pages, and weighs 6 lbs, 9oz. Oh, I mean 2.975 kg. And unbelievably expensive.

Offer.

2011-09-05T19:49:00.000-04:00

People.

2011-09-03T22:25:00.001-04:00

People die all the time. Somebody died on my corner last night. I think he actually made it to the hospital, but really he died right there when he went through a red light on his bike and got hit by an SUV and that was it. People die all the time in this city. Chances are in this city of millions there is someone dying right now and it's not gonna matter to you. The world will not stop and right now people are driving over the spot where he landed. The world will keep on going even though someone just died and you need to get used to it. You need to get used to it because someone you love will die and you are going to wonder why the world keeps on going when everything in your world does not. It's because people die all the time.

And then, someone got hit by a car.

2011-09-02T23:15:00.004-04:00

On my corner.

Still investigating.

I was on the phone with Hank when I heard a crash.

2011-08-29T23:57:00.002-04:00

Nothing brings a neighborhood together like a car service car full of goths with Trash and Vaudeville shopping bags plowing into a bunch of parked cars.

Night.

2011-07-17T15:20:00.003-04:00

The girl next door.

2011-07-01T01:47:00.004-04:00

deductibles and hold times

2011-06-29T02:04:00.001-04:00

To customer_service@hipusa.com
I've been on hold for about an hour because my new plan has a $2000 deductible, and I want to know if that includes PCP office visits, specialist visits, bloodwork, the colonoscopy I'll be having soon, whether or not office copays are deducted from the fees I'll have to pay to my doctor, if I have to have a referral to see my GI doc and have a colonoscopy, and whether or not it matters if I have a PCP at all.

I'm very disappointed that I can't get someone on the phone. This is a service industry, and your customer service department apparently doesn't exist. I've been a member for over a decade, and I expected better.

Josh Wertheimer
(Still on hold)

Not a great name for your restaurant.

2011-05-30T01:52:00.001-04:00

You can click pictures to enlarge them, ya know...

Advice.

2011-05-19T00:26:00.002-04:00

Play it cool, kids.

2011-04-28T22:58:00.000-04:00

When your professor asks you where you sat when you took an exam, the correct answer is NOT, "I sat alone."

Met.

2011-04-19T03:40:00.002-04:00

Across the street.

2011-04-03T01:24:00.001-04:00

Sunset tonight.

2011-04-01T22:31:00.002-04:00

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

2011-03-17T11:41:00.001-04:00

Really?

2011-03-02T22:57:00.002-05:00

Lean.

2011-02-17T01:04:00.001-05:00

nonplowed

2011-01-27T03:21:00.002-05:00

In today's mail.

2011-01-25T18:40:00.001-05:00

Besides a paper cut, I received notice of a retroactive rent increase, and my first doctor bill ever. So much for my "insurance."

Last night's walk to the studio.

2011-01-22T23:19:00.000-05:00

4:30am workout.

2011-01-14T22:51:00.002-05:00

1/11/11

2011-01-11T11:45:00.000-05:00

As much as I would like the events of this weekend to be caused by rhetoric from the right, Jared Loughner seems as political as John Hinckley Jr.

A Crossroads.

2011-01-10T00:11:00.000-05:00

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

New Year.

2011-01-05T23:57:00.000-05:00

I was watching a video from the early 90's of the Jesus Lizard. Yow gets hit in the head with a bottle, and he goes down. But he get back up, starts the song over, and I realize, with sudden clarity, that the young generation of bands that I'm currently subjected to has never seen or heard such a wonderful thing as a Jesus Lizard show. It just about made me cry. Not for them, but for me. I sit here now blasting "Zachariah" thinking I didn't know how good we had it, and let it get away.

I went to a photo show at ICP yesterday. Mostly war/combat photography. The Spanish Civil War, and Cuban Revolution. There were some beautiful pictures taken by people not considered great photographers, but photographers in the right place at the right time. I did not agree with that point of view. Putting yourself in the midst of conflict, in harms way, because there's a story that you feel must be told, even if your own personal or political views skew that story, takes greatness. Jeska asked me, in the middle of that gallery, if I would be able to go out with my camera if shooting broke out in New York City. I didn't answer. I didn't have an answer. I want to think that I would, but I can't even imagine. It's such a different time. War breaking out in NYC wouldn't take the form of shooting in the streets. It takes the form of planes hitting buildings, and bombs strapped to cars and fools. Even when it comes to war, we didn't know how good we had it.

I'll never take pictures that will live up to those I saw yesterday, and I'll never make music as good as the music I'm listening to right now, and I'm really not okay with either of those facts. I start off 2011 throwing my hands up in bitter resignation. You win, time. Happy new year.

Revelations about my job.

2010-12-29T04:41:00.001-05:00

I am at the point where I can effectively do lights for a band while thinking about something entirely different. Would that be my unconscious, or subconscious doing the work? Also, I've never played Guitar Hero, but I suspect it's similar to doing lights. It's more or less manipulating arbitrary buttons and levers to the beat of the song, right?

ATP NY 2010

2010-12-27T22:40:00.003-05:00

A little late, but I just realized I can upload videos here.

Gogogo!

2010-11-20T18:05:00.000-05:00

In the time it takes me to figure out the fastest way possible to accomplish a task, I could have already finished it using the slowest, most inefficient method.

People like us always find each other.

2010-10-29T02:34:00.000-04:00

I was thinking about this friend I had. Thursday was her friday, and I didn't have a week/weekend distinction, and haven't for 20 years, so Candice and I would go out and close a bar. Others would come out with us, but often by closing time it'd just be us, 4am, and too many two dollar pints. I didn't understand it. I still don't. One of those romances that never goes anywhere, or even happens at all. It could have been one sided, but after we stopped hanging out, I ran into her at this bar, the quiet bar, and she cried all over me, and kept apologizing and I don't even know why and she was blaming something on cocaine.

So I was thinking about this friend, and got to that point in the story, and remembered I saw Fred that night as well. He was in the bar, and looked real bad, lost, distant, heavily medicated. He may have had a guitar. Said something about being in Alaska, and wandered off. I knew Fred from the jacket-and-tie, all boys, prep school I tried going to for 9th and 10th grades. He was a year ahead of me, and we were in the jazz ensemble together. He played drums. He seemed to fit in there about as poorly as I did. One day, I walked into my shrink's waiting room, and there was Fred. He was freaked out and left. The next day in school, I was like, "hey, Fred and I go to the same shrink." I thought it was kinda cool, but now I know I shouldn't have said anything. Not everyone was as open about things like that as my family and I. I think we both got thrown out of that school. He ended up going to boarding school with my friend George, and they became pals. I remember heading home from my boarding school for some vacation, standing on the train platform in Trenton, and up runs Erykah, followed by George, and then Fred. Three of my friends that I knew from three different places all ended up going to school together somewhere upstate, and were on their way back to Philly too. George had once told my mother not to worry about us all going away to school because people like us always find each other. Here was pretty good proof standing right in front of me, waiting for that train.

After that final school year, some of us actually graduating, George and Fred hung out a lot, and I got together with them sometimes. We played a lot of music together, Fred now playing guitar. We made improvised performance art films. We ate at Days Deli. It was exciting and unpredictable because Fred was very unstable, and that volatility was kinda fun. Throw Marc into the mix, and it was non-stop mentally unbalanced creativity. I remember being in Days with them, and Marc talking about being on the highest allowable dosage of Lithium: 900mg. Fred, looking very serious, said, "I take 1200mg." Marc genuinely looked a little afraid. You could easily tell the difference between when Fred was on or off his meds.

I remember he spent time at George and Lex's place over the Taco House, before Lex decided to hate him, as one of the many people crashed out on that frozen livingroom floor. One time, their cat disappeared, but we could hear meowing coming from somewhere. Couldn't figure it out. That night, Fred came up to the top floor where I was sleeping, and whispered, "I've got to find that cat!" We searched around in some unfinished closet and decided the cat went back there and fell down between some studs into some wall space he couldn't get out of. We calculated where it must have ended up. The next morning, George smashed a hole through the bathroom ceiling, and out came a cat.

Eventually, George left for the west, and I never saw Fred again until three or four years later in that bar where I ran into Candice. Her, I saw again once or twice. The last time, I was at work. She was at the bar with an older guy, and there was some drama going on. Lot's of frustrated silences between them, and stares at the floor. They were the last customers to leave, and as she walked past, she did a long slow double-take at me, smiled in some drunken show of vague recognition, and silently floated out the doors. I never saw Fred again, and since this little reminiscence caused me to look around on the internet a bit, I don't think I ever will. Looks like he died around 2004. I'm not going to look up Candice.

Questions.

2010-10-19T01:42:00.001-04:00

KL: "Ah. Random questions!"
JM: "I thought you only allowed ten of those a day."
KL: "No, that's stupid questions."

Becky made me sad.

2010-10-08T03:04:00.001-04:00

I didn't know Greg. I just worked some of his shows. Every year, he would put together a benefit show for the school his kids went to. He'd get some of his top-notch friends to do 15 each, and he would host, and it was a lot of fun. He was always a funny, quick, smart comic on stage. He OD'd on prescription meds last week. As a measure of how universally loved he was, I give you this testament; when the waitstaff at a comedy club likes you, you must be alright.

A few nights ago, we had a couple of stars stop by to see the band. The well known movie star kept lighting cigarettes in the bar. When you are told, to your face, that you can't smoke in the bar, and then light another one a little while later, you're just being a bigheaded asshole. Your fame and fortune does not excuse you from societal norms, or common courtesy.

Well known TV star wasn't looking too good. She stumbled out after the show, walked down the block a little, and then just stopped and stood there a few minutes. We felt sad. Normally we'd chuckle at this all too common behavior, wrongly, but this is someone you felt like you knew. I suggested an on-the-spot intervention. Before any of us could stop being so cowardly and ask her if we could help her get home, she darted into the street and flagged down a cab. I walked down the subway steps hoping I wouldn't hear about her in the news the next day, and promising if I saw her again, I would say something. Even just a hello. A how are you. Even if she looked okay. Maybe I'd tell her I saw her at this show, and maybe then she'd know why I was asking. Everyone needs to know someone's there.

Up past 5 again. For no good reason.

2010-10-02T05:06:00.001-04:00

I thought everything I did tonight sounded like shit.
Just need to stop.

Day off today.

2010-09-30T03:07:00.000-04:00

Eleven things on my to-do list.
I did three of them.

Architecture.

2010-09-12T21:43:00.001-04:00

There are cameras and lenses and film on my desk. I sit here a lot and wait. Wait for something to happen. Nothing happens here at this desk unless I make it happen. I can't go to the show next month. It represents a life I've already given up on years ago, and all I'm missing. The bad things I will miss outnumber the good things in that life, but that's only ever seen in hindsight. So they will play, and not think about me because that's what they do. A bridge must be built. I'm designing it in my head. Putting it on paper would constitute an act of a crazy person. Who plans out their life on paper? Okay, I bet more people than I realize. Maybe I should try it. The bridge connects lives. Connects worlds. People. It will keep me connected to the people from the world I unceremoniously leave behind. I try, and struggle with, keeping up with the ones from the last life, but for every success, there is a failure. My successes are often accidental; lives taking the same turn. I need to heal the broken lines of friendship before moving on again. These ruptures tend to multiply if left unattended. On my desk: three cameras, eight rolls of film (three unexposed), nail clipper, digital calculator watch, Sharpie, checkbook, electronic digital caliper, notes, SD memory card, USB drive, 10x loupe, 12 quarters, 22 keys, Logic Express 9, three empty pill bottles, napkins, paperclip, soft case containing one lens and one finder, two bandaids, 512k iPod shuffle version 1, CCFA newsletter, bills, lamp.

An hour there and back.

2010-09-02T01:50:00.003-04:00

I go to the pharmacy after midnight because no one's in line. I noticed the new school supplies aisle and headed down to see if I could find a good graph paper notebook. There was a guy on all fours wearing a red t-shirt, pen in one hand, staring down at an open blank notebook on the floor in front of him. The red shirt made me think he was an employee at first, possibly taking inventory, but then I saw a couple dollar bills, and an empty paper coffee cup by his right hand. Beyond him was an actual employee who took notice, and, with cautious amusement, walked towards him. I heard him ask the guy to leave in broken english as I looped around them through another aisle. The pharmacist had my meds ready for me before I even got to his counter. The late shift knows me by now, and he saw me coming. The registers didn't work. He had to reboot. It would take a few minutes. I walked around looking at interesting pharmacy things: the array of pill holders, reading glasses, all the different kinds of Oreos. The pill holders reminded me of something I've wondered for a while. Does anyone know if you are allowed to carry prescription meds without the bottle they came in? If a cop searches me for some reason, and finds a little pill holder full of pills, is it legal for me to have those pills without any proof the I have them legally? I didn't try on any reading glasses because I would have bought some. I've been using reading glasses for soldering (and reading tiny things) and I thought about trying more powerful ones. Another time. The Oreos that caught my eye were some kind of cake Oreo. The box said "What side are you on?" The two sides were people who dunk their Oreos, and people who don't. It's kind of a brilliant way of suggesting a new way of eating your Oreos without actually suggesting it, while making the whole eating process more "edgy." The lightweight box was 1200 calories. When the registers were back up and running, there was a guy with his arm in an automatic blood pressure machine. After I left, I saw the same guy getting on my train. He didn't have a bag of anything from the pharmacy, so I figured he just stopped in for a checkup. He was in his 20s, and was reading a book.

Not finished.

2010-08-18T01:58:00.001-04:00

Do all Tele neck pickups suck? This is a new experience for me. Never had a Tele before. Never really played one at length either. And why do some of them mount in the pickguard, and some directly into the body? Greg, what's your neck pickup sound like? This guitar does not want to be completed, and I can't move on to the next one until it is.

Invite.

2010-08-05T03:04:00.000-04:00

Here is an email I am very close to sending to my landlord via their repair request system:

It's about 3am, and I can't sleep because there are five or six kids running around on the roof. Is this something you can repair, or would you like me to take care of it?

Instead, I'm going to invite you all over to my roof. The roof door is open. Message me for details. Just stay toward the east end of the building so you're not running around on top of my apartment. If I can populate my roof with people I like, then maybe I won't mind being up this late for no reason.

Touch.

2010-07-21T23:46:00.001-04:00

It's good to keep in touch. With everybody. Today, I "jammed" with Dana and Dominique, then walked around the corner to a soundman "conference," (at a bar) where there was talk of war stories and missing New York. Tomorrow, I'll hopefully have dinner with Megan. After that, maybe I'll get to go back out to Staten Island. Maybe even spend the night. Life would be better if I didn't have to work ever again.

Work.

2010-07-12T22:51:00.000-04:00

Work.

2010-07-11T00:22:00.001-04:00

Generation V.

2010-06-16T02:02:00.001-04:00

I just saw this guy on the train. He was an older guy, dirty-gray hair, glasses, white beard. Light gray vest over a tie-dye t-shirt. There was a U.S. flag patch on his right vest shoulder. Baggy, forgettable pants. The reason I paid so much attention to this guy on a standing-room only J train at 1am is because he had a pair of what, I think, were map cases on his back. Black plastic tubes about five inches in diameter, wide nylon straps attached to the tubes with multiple thin leather bands. There was a turquoise stone tied to one, and some other items appropriate for a man who looks like he's stuck 40 years in the past. I thought about how that happens, and could only conclude that maybe it happens to all of us, but the ones who really lived a style are the ones who really stand out. Then I though about how there are still punks living the dream from the 70s, at times being nostalgic for the past, not realizing the irony of a sentimental punk. In ten years, they'll be just like those old gray-haired hippies. Mohawk comb-overs. Braces holding their pants up to their chest. Utilitarian canes. Krist, imagine what the hipsters are gonna look like in 30 years.
But map cases? What were in those map cases?

Side.

2010-06-06T22:46:00.000-04:00

Promotion.

2010-05-22T01:34:00.000-04:00

I was walking home from work the other night, and thinking about where my job can take me. I'll never get a raise. That's just the way it is. Promotion? Would I want one? And how would I get one? Someone has to quit of get fired or die. I thought about that last point a bit, and realized that that's just how the world works, and we accept it. The working stiffs of the world are just waiting for their bosses to die. The future is in your hands, and you're just handing it to your boss. Did I mention I don't want a promotion? Okay, if it doubled my pay, I'd do it for a year, Pretty sure I'll quit before then.

Referral.

2010-05-14T02:12:00.001-04:00

If anyone in Maine needs a doctor, mine's moving there in July. He's really great, and really cares about his patients. He gave me his direct office line, and even called me from home on a saturday afternoon. Always good for telling it like it is in the fucked up world of health care, and hopeful for real reform, even if it takes money out of his pocket. Yesterday, when I complained about how my GI doc now uses an anesthesiologist for colonoscopies , he explained that there's a group that pays GI doctors to use anesthesiologists. That's on top of the thousands of dollars the unnecessary anesthesia cost my insurance company. (I can't even believe they paid it.) This is how we're keeping medical costs down? Anyway, he's sending me to a new GI guy who doesn't do that scam. So he gave me one last thorough going over (apparently, I have a young man's prostate) and sent me on my way with a sheet of paper telling me who he thinks my new doctor should be. Thanks for helping me through a rough nine years, doc.

I'll text you if I can't make it.

2010-05-01T04:19:00.000-04:00

After I walked Amy home, I walked to the mailbox to insert my rent check, and realized I left my phone at work. I started to walk the three blocks back, then decided I didn't need it. Do I ever really need it? I may just stop carrying it around. Buy a watch. They're smaller, and the batteries last longer.
I think cell phones make people inconsiderate. It's easy to make plans for later with someone, but also easy to text that person and cancel right before your meeting time. Commitments are broken without thought, and obligations are obsolete. Before cells, you had to actually show up. The plan was made, and you left the house, and later you had to meet that person like you promised because if you didn't, your friend would worry and think you were dead or maybe just an asshole that always blows you off. The plan was set in motion, and you had to catch up with it. I'm not sure this cell phone thing was a good idea for me. I wonder if Eileen still doesn't have one.

Babe.

2010-04-26T11:36:00.002-04:00

Friends who are having/have had babies over the past year, in no particular order:

Katrina/Raul
Stephanie/Johnny
Dawn/Frank
George/Jennifer
Molly/Eric
Christian/Andi
Andrea/Heather
Rocky/Adam
Ian/Cassie
Evan/Mel
Luciano/His Girlfriend (Sorry I don't know her name.)

7am

2010-04-25T07:42:00.000-04:00

I'm listening to the great NPR show called "Hearing Voices." It's a greatest hits, or a clearinghouse of radio interviews and stories. It's on at 7am on sunday mornings. Today, I'm up this early for work. Sometimes I'm just going to bed when it's starting, which makes it harder to go to bed. A year ago, I was often leaving for work in the middle of it, which often made it difficult to get to work on time. There's a lot of reflection available at this time of the week, in this time of the day. Remorse, and even revelation. This show can take your mind off the bad, or it can bring out those bad feelings due to a pavlovian association. Today, it's the latter, though it could just be a general extension of the day to day these days.

Work.

2010-03-26T04:15:00.001-04:00

Mobile Wash Unit.

2010-03-23T13:04:00.001-04:00

So what are you doing with your photography?

2010-03-02T02:49:00.001-05:00

I get asked this question, and I don't know what it means. I'm trying to come up with appropriately absurd answers. Here's a few:
I'm chopping it up into little pieces and burying them on the beach at Coney Island and marking the spot with a pirate flag.
I'm lighting it on fire and using it to send smoke signals to Gene Smith.
I'm scraping off the mold.
It drowned.
We broke up.
Nothing.
Donating it to scientology.

Then I realized the entire dog show is one big health code violation.

2010-02-16T01:26:00.003-05:00

From here, I could see they did not tear down my old building.

2010-01-31T19:01:00.001-05:00

T.S.

2010-01-22T21:13:00.001-05:00

Happy Fucking New Year!

2010-01-10T01:37:00.006-05:00

I gashed my thumb with a chisel, and a couple hours later dropped something heavy on my foot. I just went down to the floor because I though I should. It hurt, but I knew it wasn't broken, so really it just made me angry. And while down there on the floor, I decided to smash a small hole in a door with a nearby piece of scrap wood. That helped a little. I laid there with my foot up in the air to prevent swelling, and to enjoy the angle. I felt very comfortable lying somewhere I've been a million times in the eleven years I've lived in this apartment, but never seen from that point of view, head in the unlit hall, body in the front room, leg up on the workbench, lamps and guitars hanging. I tied my shoe tight and called it a night for guitar building.

The adrenaline from the anger has worn off, and now I'm left feeling sick and wondering why I'm not more depressed. I have little to show for my years on earth, nothing in my future, and living off what little I have in the way of fond memories from my distancing diminishing youth is unproductive. There is a philosophy that can explain why I'm not crushed by incapacitating depression, but I don't know what it is. That name. It exists with or without one. So the journey may as well begin now. With those parameters in place, I can see nothing but a severe lack of parameters. I'll take this lack of concern on my part, of my part, and use it to my advantage. This is where the book will begin, where the new year begins, where I've already been through it in a week's time, and it hasn't killed me. There's another philosophy that says I should have been made stronger by the shoulder/back/thumb/foot injuries, the awkward social exchanges, that terrible band, and the freezing walks. But I subscribe to that other philosophy that I don't know the name of. The one that is defined my me, who is either unaffected by life's horrors, or unknowingly strong. Here's to you, 2010. I've got you figured out, and you're all mine.

Needs work.

2009-12-31T14:01:00.001-05:00

I went by the shop to see you, but you were not there to be seen.
I saw some things I would have bought, but you were not there to help me.
I picked up merchandise a shopper knocked over and ignored, and you were not there to shake your head disapprovingly at him.
I left and got back on the train to go buy boots for the winter, so I can try again in the snow.

Class trip!

2009-12-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

Anyone want to go see It's a Wonderful Life in an actual movie theater this week?

Loopers.

2009-12-04T11:47:00.001-05:00

I'm really sick of looping. This live sampling/layering technique is a musical hell for me. It creates static, repetitive music by definition, and it's "oh wow how is he/she doing that" response needs to run out of steam. Last nights show had a lot of that hell-making garbage, along with something I hate even more; playing along to tape or a computer. Some of the most soulless, soul-sucking sets I've experienced, and to quote the music teacher in Fame, "that's not music, that's masturbation."

Developing spree.

2009-11-08T21:21:00.001-05:00

This band hurts my eyes.

2009-10-31T12:45:00.005-04:00

I liked when the drums disappeared from the mix towards the end of the set, and I looked over and the sound guy had the guitar channel in the red, the L/R meters pegged, and the clip lights on the graphs lit. The limiters just shut it all down. Or when the show started and the guy nodded in approval and left the board to go help the video guy focus the projector. Kenny just shook his head, seeing that the guy didn't realize all the channels were still off, and turned all the channels on for the guy. Or when the guy running the DVD hit the wrong button and the "intense visuals" turned into the DVD player's logo ping-ponging around the screen.

The band before that one had their own lights. They were all about bright white back-lighting and strobes. My left eye started bothering me, and I texted Amy that the band was hurting my eyes. I asked if it was possible that watching a band could give me pink eye. She responded that anything's possible. The next morning, I woke up, and obviously had pink eye. Guess she was right.

That day was mostly spent waiting for my prescription eye drops to be ready. Spoke to my doctor around 10am, and then just waited. My increasingly rare days off have been filled with nothingness lately. By 7pm, still no prescription called in. I called my doctors private line hoping he might be working late. All I could do was leave a message. I went up to the medical building on 95th street that houses my doctor's office, and a very nice PA at the after-hours clinic checked me out, and gave me the piece of paper I needed. In all honesty, I didn't really need it. These things clear up on their own, but my doctor tends to be on the safer than sorry side of things, me having a chronic condition and all. There was only one other patient in the office, and she was clearly dying, or at least very sick. I got out of there before I caught something else.

The hours spent on this journey reminded me that it was halloween. Officially, halloween was the next night, but that's not how it works around here. It's usually the nearest weekend, plus the 31st. If the 31st is a wednesday, then halloween is eight or nine days long. But maybe I was just making assumptions about all these colorful people. Maybe that guy always wears a derby. Maybe that lady always wears a beaded thing on her head. Maybe those two guys always dress as a bumble bee and penguin. Maybe that really is Bert and Ernie. Maybe that couple is covered with feathers because it's cold outside. Maybe that monk is taking the L train back to his monastery. Maybe that's what H1N1 really looks like. Maybe those really are MTA employees.

My doctor called me from home the next morning, apologetic and embarrassed. It wasn't the first mix up in his office this week, and the person responsible needs to be moved to another position, possibly mopping floors. At first, I thought that he may be over reacting a bit, but what if this really was a serious problem? I could have certainly survived until monday, but not everybody can. He and I talked about medical computer systems, and how some pharmacies get the prescription directly from the doctor's computer when he puts it in the patient's file, bypassing the assistant that is supposed to call this stuff in. Nobody wants to pay for all this technology, so it's still years from being implemented. I can't wait, and clearly, neither can my doctor.

So what's my halloween costume tonight? Guy with pink eye. Try not to touch, nuzzle, or lick my left eye if you are at the show tonight.

I think I know how a harp works now.

2009-10-28T12:39:00.001-04:00

There are seven notes to an octave in each key. The harp has seven pedals, one for each note in a seven note scale. Each pedal has three positions. When all the pedals are in the middle position, the harp is in C major. (Or A minor.) If you want to play in F major, you would find the pedal that controls the B strings, and make all the Bs flat a half step. If you want to play in G major, starting with all the pedals in the middle position, you would find the pedal that controls the F strings, and make it sharp a half step. Continue in that manner for each key.
It struck me last night that the harp is a forerunner to the pedal steel guitar.

is,

2009-09-19T04:32:00.001-04:00

I went to the studio after work tonight to play drums. I'm out of drumming shape. Drums is hard. It should be drums ARE hard, but you don't say guitar are hard. Playing drums is hard. The drum kit is difficult. Drums is hard. It really helped me get over work and everything else. I could make a habit out of it. It could be a part of the reordering of my life I seem to be doing. What do you do for exercise? Well, I live on the 6th floor, and I play drums.

I shook hands with a guy the other day, and he said I had very soft hands. Total dick move. I was at the bar with a lady he is clearly into, she introduces us, and he says that. He's lucky I'm a nice guy, and I wasn't on a date with the gal.

Smiling.

2009-09-17T03:10:00.000-04:00

Listening to Joe Henderson's trio recording of "Ask Me Now" is making me very happy this evening. It still amazes me that humans can make music simultaneously this simple and moving. Here's to friends old and new, and places we haven't been yet.

Come for the people. Stay for the dogs.

2009-09-16T13:01:00.001-04:00

I'd never been to The Garden before, and I was not impressed. It's old and outdated and much smaller than I expected. There were bathroom attendants. There were five dollar bottles of water. There were over a thousand dogs.

It's a little overwhelming when you walk into what could be a dog flea market. Aisles of dogs with supermarket-style signs suspended over each row telling you what kind of dog you would find there. I was texting Sara to find her mom and her, and all I could respond with was, "There are dogs everywhere!" She wrote something about meeting her by the Giant Schnauzer, which I incorrectly assumed was a statue, not a breed.

It was a game to find the dog owners who looked like their dogs. Some of them, the dogs, were enormous. Sizes and shapes and colors I never imagined. I think I have a favorite dog now. It was a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. I also have a favorite dog handler. She was showing Curly Retriever number 18. She was the only one dressed like a normal person. She must be new.

There were a good amount a dogs in cages, and they were mostly relaxing like dogs mostly do. A few clearly wanted to get out. I heard there were protesters outside dressed like the Klan. Their point was that the breeders were creating master races of dogs. To me, that message was overpowered by the idea that someone would be stupid enough to dress like a Klan member in New York City.

A lot of dogs were just wandering around, on a leash, saying hi to people. They were all very friendly, and seemed to be enjoying themselves and the attention. Except for the one that was constipated. His owner said he hadn't gone all day, and the dog did look a little stressed. You overhear things like that. You also get to see the dogs in a dog beauty parlor setting, mostly getting their hair done. We saw Uno, last years champ, getting a rubdown before going on the air for the preshow broadcast. You occasionally ask yourself if you have strayed into a restricted area, but it's just really open to all. You can even walk the arena floor all afternoon during the breed competitions.

I never saw that movie that people ask me about whenever I mention going to the dog show. But I was certainly expecting some interesting people, and while it was clear that most of them weren't from around here, we fashionable city folk are the real minority in these united states. There was some over the top flashy, and flat out shiny attire, but it was mostly worn for the occasion. This was, after all, a show.

But while all that people watching was enjoyable, and the reason I went that first day, the dogs won me over in the end. I had to go back for the finals on day two.
And I can't wait for next year.

Light control.

2009-09-11T03:54:00.001-04:00

I did lights for a rave tonight, and texted KG that I was doing so, and asked her how I lost control over my life. She didn't have an answer, but did ask if I was on ecstasy. Never done it, and pretty sure I never will.

Shaking up my life was pretty much the impetus for taking a new job yesterday. It will most likely result in me working seven nights a week, but half those nights, I'll be outside of my neighborhood, and in a more photogenic one. I might need to buy a netbook. Felt really bad telling my boss.

A woman I was fairly interested in, and who was at least a little interested in me, let me know there was someone from her past who showed up recently, and things were getting "weird." It was clear to me that they should try to be together again, and found myself trying to talk her into taking things further with him. The idea of her passing up what I thought was a great opportunity to find some happiness with another troubled me more than my jealousy did.
"And you know it's hard for me to say this."
"Yeah, I know."
Movin on.
I'm actually really pleased, and a little impressed, that she let me in on the whole situation. It seems to be common practice to keep the other person in the dark until things are more defined with choice number one. (I'm not choice number one.)
Again, movin.

A few weeks ago, I got on the downtown M15 at 14th street, and got off once I didn't recognize anything. It was really fun, but I figured out where I was pretty quickly. It was a long walk, and I had a camera, and I went to a bar to see that lady I was just talking about, and went home. I need to do that more often. For some reason, it's easier to do when it gets colder.
Healthy.
In control.

Candles

2009-09-11T03:17:00.001-04:00

(via text)
J: What the fuck is a soy candle, and why does it cost 12 dollars?
K: Dude! I don't know! Why wud u burn somethin that costs that much?!

Actually, upon further research, I found that regular candles, usually a petroleum product, may cause cancer from frequent use. Had no idea.

Eileen got my birthday card. Sent me a thank you card. Made me happy.

We're just following ancient history. If I strip for you will you strip for me?

2009-08-07T01:39:00.001-04:00

They're playing basketball again. It's 1am. There are no lights on in the playground. I'd have broken a finger, or gotten a ball to the face by now if I was out there. Can kids see in the dark now? Last night they had a dog with them that would not stop yapping the whole time. Cheerleader.
Happy birthday Hailey, Eileen, Gina, Joe, and, since it's after midnight, Cindy. Sent Eileen a card. Hope she didn't move.
Saturday night, after working the all metal tribute to Michael Jackson, I went by Megan's bar to catch up with her a bit. The DJ played "Strip" by Adam Ant. She was playing a lot of 80s stuff. I don't know the last time I heard that song, but it reminded me of the night, probably 1984, when a plan was enacted to order a pizza from Towne Pizza, go pick it up, then pick up Rachael and Anu, who were across the street from Towne at Anu's place, and take them home with me. We hung out in my basement, ate pizza, and watched Adam Ant on Saturday Night Live. He played "Strip." I think Rachael just ate the pepperoni she picked off the pizza. I kept an eye on them from my front door while they went back to Anu's place. She lived just up the block.

Enough!

2009-08-05T03:33:00.001-04:00

I've had a terrible time with retail establishments the past few weeks. Dell computers has a completely incompetent customer service department. Once I'm done with the current series of "where is my shit" emails, and they're done sending me the same form letter in response over and over, I will never deal with them again. B&H Photo has made it so that you have to wait in even more lines than before, causing me to give up and walk out empty handed the other day. The other place that totally screwed me I'm not gonna mention until I'm sure their check clears. From now on, I buy everything from Amazon. (Even though the post office opens every package with an Amazon logo on it to see if it's something worth stealing.) So, yeah, that's where I stand right now. Pretty much hating everything. Keep your distance. Can't wait to see what happens with tomorrow's planned trip to Lowe's.

Niagara.

2009-07-28T02:53:00.000-04:00

My post office is on "summer hours."

2009-07-21T01:20:00.001-04:00

Sometimes people seem happy to see me, and I don't think I take in the significance of that reaction. Beth used to be nice to people she didn't like, and it made me question whether or not she actually liked me. I think that's why I don't always believe people's reactions to be genuine until I acquire more evidence. Sometimes I don't make enough of an effort to find out the truth.

The things people remember about each other always fascinates me. Someone I haven't had any contact with for probably 15 years is reminded of me every time MST3K comes up. She associates me with a TV show. There are some things that make me think of her as well, but I never assume it goes both ways.

Old rockers, rollers, etc.

2009-06-23T02:49:00.001-04:00

I thought the band that showed up late for their 9pm load in was pretty bad. I mean 9pm? Unless you had another, earlier gig that night, you have no excuse, especially if you're a local band. But tonight, the headliner took three hours to sound check, and the band didn't even show up. That's three hours to set up backline, and eq monitors and foh. Three hours, and not a single note of music played.
I told mark that CBGB's plumber was there, and he said, "get him out of here! Have you seen the bathrooms at that place?!?"
A friend texted me from a VD clinic today. Said she was too tattooed and hungover for them to find a vein. She said she was there for moral support. I told her she was a good friend.

A lady's dog.

2009-06-01T23:04:00.000-04:00

It's good to look at a lady's dog and smile.
Then, you can look at her and smile,
and not seem like a creep,
because she saw you smile at her dog,
and thinks you're sharing something.
Something about her dog.

Transport.

2009-04-10T02:18:00.000-04:00

It didn't feel like New York when I walked out of the club carrying some stranger's amplifier. Something about the air, the spring night air that's way colder than it should be, put me in some smaller town in Europe or the midwest. Like the way San Francisco can be real nice and sunny all day, but freezing when you're walking from bar to bar to make last call somewhere because you wore something that would make sense in New York. Something about the air, and the headlights, and the old school bus. Just for a second.
We met when I looked different, so we got reintroduced. That's fine, because sometimes I meet a gal who completely throws me off, and I needed this second chance. I was still not very smooth, whatever that means, but I don't think I came across as badly as last time. You're too cool, and I don't mean that in that sarcastic way.

My phone doesn't vibrate any more.

2009-04-06T02:41:00.001-04:00

I really did like your scarf. And that you were wearing it inside. Thank you for your concern about my well-being. You looked really sincere when you asked if I was okay. I just have a cold. Sorry we didn't get to chat a bit. That's usually the high-point of my sundays. Tonight I'll have to settle for the bands not sucking as much as I expected. Which is something.

Hindsight.

2009-03-11T02:38:00.002-04:00

I said I'd get her some pictures from back when we used to hang out in the mid '80s. I asked if I should email them rather than just posting them online in case she wants to censor them first. Turns out there wasn't really anything incriminating at all I could find. I wish I took more pictures back then. You have no idea when the great times of life are happening. You have no idea until you think back, and then wish you had a picture. Every time you think of a memory, it gets rewritten into your brain, and a little gets lost. Scientific fact.
One day, I came home and found a picture of mine, framed, on the bookshelf in the living room. It was a picture of me, if I can remember accurately, playing guitar, and smoking a cigarette. Mom apparently "found" some pictures of the gang and me, and, according to her, liked that one. I think she was just trying to embarrass me into quitting smoking. I guess it was embarrassing for some reason because I never let her see me smoke. One time, Lex and I went into that cafe on 18th Street, sat at a table, and I pulled out a smoke. Before I could light it, mom showed up and exclaimed, "caught ya!" I told her it didn't count because it wasn't lit yet. She was laughing when she snuck up on us. She left, and I'm not sure I lit that cig once she was gone. What's funny to me now is that we used to smoke in the house all the time, and thought mom wouldn't smell it. Now, if someone walks by my apartment door with a lit cigarette, I can smell it from a couple rooms away, but for some reason we thought three of us smoking in the basement of Pine Street wouldn't be obvious. The heating system probably circulated our Camels and Marlboros through the whole house.
Give your kids cameras. And a printer. Don't make them show you the pictures. They'll be happy to have records of the ups and downs to share with each other when so many years have passed that the pictures and those times are all you have left in common. Yeah, you're gonna want to see the pictures your kid is taking because it could be evidence, plus with digital and the internet and social networking sites, pictures can lure an unfriendly element into the scene. But understand what looks like something you should get angry about is probably, for the same reason, going to be a cherished memory some day.

Partial email to Maria.

2009-02-27T03:52:00.001-05:00

I had a dream this morning. I was on Delancey, but way east. I decided to go see if that bar you used to work at was still there. I walked past streets with long, multi-word names, and then a cemetery that was a few blocks long. I got to where the bar was, but it was suddenly your apartment. No one was home, but I guess the door was unlocked, and I went inside. I decided to take a nap. I think I slept for about an hour, then realized I should probably get out of there because if would be really weird if I got caught taking a nap in your bed, especially if Danny showed up. Then I though to myself that I was kinda like Goldielocks. I think I'm gonna put this email in my blog. Except for the first part.

God doesn't want me to make a guitar.

2009-02-23T23:47:00.001-05:00

Between wood infested with beetles, the most warped plywood ever sold, and a package delivered to me with various pieces of hardware literally falling out of it when the postman handed it to me, all I can think is it was not meant to be. This box made it to me with about 30% of its original contents still inside. I'm pretty much done with mail of any kind. Guess I really need to get a driver's license now.
I thought about asking the pastors of the church where I work if god wanted me to make a guitar, but they seem like good people, and don't need me mocking everything they believe in. I also could have asked my exterminator.
Once a month, he hangs out in my kitchen and tells me all the stuff in the world that worries him, while he sprays poison in all the cracks. This week, he started telling me about Our Lady of Fatima, a vision of the Virgin Mary that was said to have appeared to three shepherd children at Fatima Portugal in 1917. He looked through a stack of religious tracts pulled from his Corrections Officer jacket, but he couldn't find one for me. I wondered if he was spraying a brainwashing agent around my apartment that would convert me, but when I went to work the next morning's church service, I still didn't believe.

Loss-of-control dream.

2009-02-08T22:41:00.001-05:00

I was helping Sara record something. Then there was this winding, outdoor stairway/labyrinth. It had different mosaic and painted tiles imbedded in each step. This old guy was leading me through it, but I decided to get out. It wasn't easy because there were these false exits and deceptive paths. There was something about watching old REM and U2 live shows on youtube. I was really tired. I had to wake in about an hour for work. I went to bed, and set my alarm for an hour later. Something woke me up, and my clock said I had an extra hour to sleep. No one could tell me what time it was. I kept asking people, and even asked if there was a daylight savings time change that suddenly gave me an extra hour. I looked at the shelves in my room, and wondered who put them up. I thought Suzanne put them up when we were going out. There were weird lamps in my room. The ladies I was hanging out with earlier showed up at the apartment. The apartment was like a village, both indoors and outdoors simultaneously. I hoped one of them would come join me. This guy walked into my bathroom, which I can see from my bed, and said he just needed to take a piss, but he just walked in and out, and then into my room. He sat down on a dresser or something, and said, "so this is the kitchen..." I told him it wasn't the kitchen, but he kept on rambling. I realized he actually lived in the neighborhood his whole life, and was making parallels between his apartment and mine, or how he remembered my apartment was a long time ago.

Pilots are probably underpaid.

2009-01-16T02:07:00.002-05:00

An ATM stole my paycheck, and refused to acknowledge it had done so. I walked into guitar center to see the guitar just like the one I used to have. I had to see the price tag again. $3499.00 is what it really said. I traded mine for a $300 bass over 20 years ago. Terrible guitar. Then I walked east on 15th. That diner's gone. The L train is really bringing me down. The US Postal Service is a piece of shit. I threw out around 20 cardboard boxes. They were boxes full of other boxes, and packing material. Don't feel like it helped much. Have to go see K and her new ten pound baby. I bought a bottle of super glue a while ago, but never used it. Went to use it today and it was a solid dry chunk.

2009

2009-01-03T00:53:00.001-05:00

Talk less.
Act more.
See.
Be seen.
Take more pictures.
Break less cameras.
Make mistakes.
Make decisions.
Let go.
Let it go.
Throw stuff out.
Shut up.
Clean up.
Visit.
Invite.
Play.
Get lost.
Get found.
Get a driver's license.
Build a guitar.
Talk less.
Cross things off.
Walk.
Read.
Watch.
Listen.
Learn.
Friends.
Loves.
Don't say a thing.

Just who are you texting anyway?

2008-12-30T02:27:00.001-05:00

When people ask me how to get upstairs, it puzzles me. If I was in a building I've never been to before, and it's a night club, and I wanted to get to the balcony, I would just start looking for something that I like to call "stairs." It's a device that helps humans get to higher or lower elevations. But no. People are lazy. People have no sense of adventure whatsoever. They immediately ask for help rather than try to figure out the problem on their own. Last night, I pointed to the door that led to the stairs, and the guy returned and asked if I indeed meant the door that said "exit." He didn't believe me. He thought passing through that door would mean he would immediately be outside the club. Had he never been out in public before? Never noticed buildings had lighted exit signs over every doorway that would help you escape a fire? And do people not notice the first thing you see when you enter the club is a set a stairs leading up? Tonight I was up at the balcony bar when someone asked the bartender where the bathrooms were. The reply was that they are in the basement. The woman then responded, "how do you get there?" It's the same problem on the surface, but the bartender pointed out to me that the woman got up to the balcony somehow, so clearly knew where the stairs were. She just didn't want to think. Oh, and I'd like to point out that there are three different sets of stairs from the basement to the balcony. It's hard to actually avoid stairs in that place.

Revisited.

2008-12-24T22:13:00.001-05:00

K has been thinking of baby names. (She's extremely pregnant.) She asked me if I thought my life would be different if my name was different. I said it would. A minor change in one's life, at birth or any age, gets magnified over time. Set a ramp at a small angle off the ground. Take a few steps up that ramp, and you're a little bit off the level of your previous path. Walk up that ramp for a few years, and you'll be pretty far from your original ground-level course. Putting that theory into words and saying them out loud made me think about what I had learned the day before. I may have learned too much, or maybe just thought about it too much, and the next day I started walking east through the slush. I knew exactly where I was going, and I was writing this story in my head along the way. It didn't occur to me that I'd be walking past Marc and Dave's old place, and when I did, I checked to see if their names were on the ragged intercom by the door. They weren't, and I'm not really sure they ever were. I walked past the diner that made the doughnuts. It's not there any more, and I'm not sure exactly which adult store or fast food chain outlet now occupies its address, but I know I walked by it. I walked some more, rewriting the story in my head with subtle changes that would have grown into mountains or whole other lives this many years later. Bleaker Bob's is still here, and so is Music Inn. A subtle change in what I said. I couldn't quite remember which corner The Bottom Line was on. A slight change in the things I did. Who I did them with. I made sure to walk up Broadway to get there, because that's what I always used to do. I guess I did it that way to make it look less planned how I would just happen to be in the neighborhood. Maybe a small change in how obvious i was would have been enough to change the angles. I unceremoniously made it to the corner. The sun was breaking through the surrounding towers somehow, weaving and curving through, shining on the spot you'd sometimes be waiting, looking out one of those windows. Those windows I would sit and stare out once inside because I didn't have any of my own. I stood next to the phone booth I would use to call up in case you weren't looking out for me, and tried to see you standing there in that sunlight, on the phone with me, waiving down from the second floor. I didn't recognize you. I didn't recognize myself. I took a picture of that view. I'll hang it next to the one of Nikkie's leg, to add it to the things I must never forget, as something I must never let happen again. I crossed and walked past the lobby, and kept going. I almost got on the uptown 6 train out of habit, but I heard my old apartment building isn't even there any more. All these places and thoughts surrounded the you that's still here, somewhere, until now. And thinking about you will always bring back these thoughts and memories, but less so now than before. There's only so much room in my head, and you're being crowded out by the three little words I learned the other day; married, kids, Boston.

Tonight's excursions.

2008-12-16T04:26:00.001-05:00

If you take the train over the bridge, and just stare out the window opposite your seat, it's like you're a camera moving through a model of a city. The closer buildings move by faster than the distant ones too perfectly. If you were watching it on a movie screen, you'd yell, "fake!" or murmur it to your movie date. You'd be wrong.
I talked to people who don't like each other tonight. That happens. I don't know why. If you know enough people from the same place, maybe it's inevitable. Sometimes, like tonight, I actually get it, and I secretly side with one of them. One relationship of that nature in my life is the opposite. I easily picked from the start, but one of them totally won me over after a few years. You just don't mention the other one, and hope you never have to choose or get caught cheating. I kinda wanna date one of them. That'd be hilarious.
Walked around a lot tonight. It was cool and soothing, but then the rain stopped, and the streets dried up, and it wasn't as pretty.
I gave her a high-five to say goodbye, but her hand just sorta stayed there, so i led her to the door with me. Once there, she said she wasn't going out there again. She didn't take her hand out of mine, though. After a moment, I kissed her hand, and she kinda nodded as if that was the right, and expected thing to do. We parted at the threshold, and, once outside, Eddy popped up and said, "couldn't close the deal, eh?" Not even if I tried, Eddy.

Seasonal.

2008-12-13T04:45:00.001-05:00

An old friend of mine was once asked how he always managed to go out with beautiful woman. His answer was that he only asked out beautiful women. Playing music on subway platforms. Seeing performance art of questionable merit in venues of questionable legality. Shopping for stolen records on 6th ave. It's easy to offhandedly complain that the city I've lived in the last 20 years has changed, but it really has. Winter is a bad time of year to try and change your perceptions of what's around you, and to wander out there to find what's taken the place of those memory sources, because it's cold out there. It was always winter back then, but I don't remember ever being cold. Even in George's apartment in Philly, where you could see your breath in the bathroom, and we all slept cuddled up in sleeping bags on the floor, the memory of cold is just an idea more than an actual, physical feeling. I think I came home after work tonight because I thought it was too cold to go somewhere else, not because it actually was cold. The idea of cold is defeating the reality. I don't have any memories of summer in the city. It's warm here in my apartment. There are no beautiful women in here. They're with that 18 year old who just moved to the city, braving the year-round winter.

Con.

2008-12-10T14:53:00.001-05:00

a- "I'm waiting for a bus that's never gonna come."
b- "You better start walkin."
a- "That's deep."
b- "You started it."

Lost pet alert.

2008-11-26T23:20:00.001-05:00

Wrong numbers and recordings call me. I was thinking about going to The Blue Note 20 years ago, and it reminded me of how different the city was when it was new to me. I take it for granted now, and it doesn't inspire that sense of wonder in me any more, or I just don't go out looking for it. Did I have more time then? I think of such things this time of year, and, as usual, I have that "once this or that day is out of the way" kinda feeling of the holidays keeping me from doing anything about it. I didn't get to enjoy fall this year. I don't know if enjoy is the right word. There's usually a fresh, "new beginning" feeling about it for me that most people associate with spring. For better or worse, I missed that seasonal association this year. Maybe I'm working too much, and I can't feel bad about working these days. I just tried playing a cassette. It didn't work. I'm gonna try printing stuff. Maybe that will work.

Okay, that worked, and I got the cassette working. I feel better. My answering machine ran out of room today. It was mostly prerecorded messages of men speaking yiddish. Some of them were telling me who to vote for in yiddish. There was one recording telling me a neighbor lost a cat. I recorded 26 such messages onto my computer to add to the others I've collected over the years. I will some day make something out of them. Then I erased my answering machine. To start over.

Peeps.

2008-11-24T22:40:00.000-05:00

Mixed up.

2008-11-20T03:27:00.001-05:00

I've not been managing my time well. I realize developing film is not actually accomplishing something, nor making anything. I need to make some moves. I got the biggest tip of my life last night, and it was after the show. I am not going on a six week tour of eastern europe and Russia. My diet is hilarious. My tolerance for hassle has waned significantly.

Show up to beg for money in your private jet. A million lives hang in the way of your year-end bonus and the dividends for your shareholders. You tell the public what they want. You blame the public for not knowing any better. I'm torn. More people will suffer than ones who deserve to.

I'm exhausted, so I'm writing.

2008-11-17T02:43:00.001-05:00

One hour of sleep, followed by 16 hours of work.

"Skyline."
"What?"
"I love this city."
"Oh."

Then we had pizza. Mine had tri-color tortellini on it.

No one wanted to go out after work.

Adam turned 21. Wonder what local bars he'll hang out in.

I have two bios up on my site. Would love a third. Any takers?

Started developing again.

2008-11-13T23:54:00.001-05:00

Side note.

2008-11-09T03:26:00.001-05:00

Tonight's bands played both electric and acoustic guitars. The electrics were made of wood. The acoustics, two different brands, were made out of graphite composites. I was not impressed.

Bass politics.

2008-11-03T00:39:00.001-05:00

I just had a dream I was supposed to give this kid a bass lesson. I had no idea what to teach him, and I didn't even have a bass with me. I was at what was Dana's studio, and borrowed a bass from her. The kid's bass had the frets removed, but the slots weren't filled in, and It was black and very metal. While I was trying to get set up, and wondering what to teach, he was on his cell phone having a very serious political discussion. I woke up to find that the political discussion was on the radio.

Where's Pine Bush NY?

2008-10-27T23:14:00.000-04:00

A new lease on life. A new lease on my apartment. A two year lease, with maximum increase allowed. I could not ask for anything more, or better. Except maybe they can turn down the heat. 80 plus degrees with my windows open. I think my neighbors across the hall are moving out. They've been here maybe two months.

Would anyone like to write a bio of me for my web site? I've asked five or six friends, and received one. I need more. They don't have to be factual, or even make any sense.

40 percent of the world's population does not have toilets.

2008-10-25T20:59:00.001-04:00

It's been so long. I don't know what's happened. I do know that I am still recovering from food poisoning. I don't recommend food poisoning. I've never been that sick in my life. It's like getting sick from drinking, but it goes on about ten times longer, and you remember it all the next day. I hate calling out of work, but really had no choice.
I also bailed on a high school reunion of sorts. It wasn't a school that I graduated from, but always had friends there, and the reunion was open to all. I wanted to see some of the lives I could have led. Maybe I'll see the ones that really interest me on a more individual basis in the near future. We can thank social networking websites for the opportunity.
I got to mix Shearwater this week, and it was so much fun. Really fantastic show. Made me so happy, and always great to see Thor.

Lights.

2008-10-01T01:14:00.006-04:00

A few weeks ago, after a show in an old circus tent at South Street Seaport, I convinced Becca to come with me to find the lights. Okay, it wasn't too hard to convince her. I've wanted to find those lights ever since they started appearing every September. I knew they weren't right at ground zero because when I look out my bathroom window, they aren't in the same spot the towers were. I checked against old pictures I have. So we just walked, looking skyward occasionally to make sure we were on the right path.

I look after people. One in particular. Nobody asks me to. I just know that things can get out of hand, and I know she trusts me, and maybe that makes it easier for her to go overboard. I'm the safely net, and if I'm the one to take her home at the end of the night, that's all that's gonna happen. That's what friends are for, among other things. But it doesn't always work out that way. At least it didn't last week, and maybe I dropped the ball, and maybe I enabled the whole situation just by being there in the first place.

Things don't always live up to your expectations, and when we ended up at the mouth of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, and found people scattered about with cameras all pointed the same direction, I was a little confused. There are so many places in this city that are new to me still, after 20, yes, 20 years in this town, and tonight was reminding me, with every turn, why I haven't grown tired.

Becca doesn't need my help to go overboard. But this other one, who can turn on extra levels of charm like turning on a light switch, I've seen it happen and it's disarming, she maybe needs to feel comfortable first. I don't know, and I don't think she does either, or at least she doesn't remember, but I had to level with her. My role, self-awarded as it is, has to come to an end. As angry as she is with the guy at home, acting out isn't teaching him a lesson. I hope it's teaching her one.

So we walked toward the people, and once past the building to our left, there were the lights. They were on top of a parking garage. Not the dramatic reveal I was hoping for. We sorta looked on, and at each other, in silent bewilderment, or maybe we weren't that silent, but sometimes words are just said to fill up the spaces. They don't always have to mean anything.

There is no straying. It's cheating, plain and simple. But it's not a cause, it's a symptom, and should be a wake-up call to address what's going on at home. Saying you'll never go drinking again, nor actually going through with it, isn't the cure. It's really uncomfortable to confront serious matters that may hurt a loved one, but maybe that ex of mine that I hope to never see again can teach you that it's better in the long run.

We walked across the tunnel's pedestrian overpass to reach the garage. Becca tried a door. It was locked. She told a tourist to stop walking around barefoot. I didn't even notice her feet. The difference between men and women. I directed us to where the elevators were so we could pretend to get our car, but there was a guard posted. We were both texting people at this point, me getting random gibberish from George, and were walking back north. I called Geo to tell him what we found, and to meet us at Doc Holiday's.

You can't take the "other man/woman" seriously. You are talking about someone who is willing to help you destroy a relationship for his or her own personal pleasure. This is not someone to be trusted, and furthermore, neither are you. How do either of you know you won't be on the other side next time, and the grass is never greener.

I didn't realize the firehouse was actually across the street from ground zero. We first came upon the candles and photos of the ones lost. There were a lot of photos. Tourists were taking pictures. Some kids were looking on with seriousness that defied their years. Becca crossed a barrier to stick her head through the fence. She needed a few minutes to herself, staring into that hole. The firehouse doors were open. A tourist couple, and I'm only guessing they were tourists as no one who was here that year would be so disrespectful, walked up to the permanent shrine just inside the doors, and posed for a photo in front of it, arms around each other's shoulders.
"Sorry, I didn't expect our journey to turn out like this."
"Yeah. Wanna go to a speakeasy?"

You need to say these things before it's too late. I had something to say to someone, something concerning "feelings" for her, and hesitated. I decided it needed to be said after Jenn was suddenly in ICU with low expectations of making it through the night. So that close call supposedly got me in gear with saying what I had to say to this other woman. I couple weeks later, they were both in the hospital. Still never said a thing.

It was just the two of us, her friend behind the bar, and the owner, who was watching three TVs simultaneously. We were in a contemplative mood, and this junk-store of a speakeasy was just distracting enough, for me anyway. Pool table. Crutches. Stools. Oil painting with cutouts for lights. Late-night talk shows. Pictures of patrons on the wall will soon include us as the owner turned from his TVs with a disposable and flashed off a few frames. He gave Becca a spare meatball hero, and closed up early.

I think it's selfish. I may have written this thought before, but if you avoid what needs to be said because it makes you uncomfortable, you are being selfish.

From the next bar, we said goodbye. They got into a cab, and I walked off to Doc Holiday's, as it had now been several hours since I told George to meet us there. Once I confirmed they weren't there, he called. I was on my way to visit Megan as she closed up her bar, and he and Brad were at the lights. A few steps behind us all night. I hung out with Megan while I waited for two drunks to meet me there. They wanted to get our traditional late night perogies before leaving town the next morning, but I hate when she closes up alone. I made her promise to text me once she was safely in a cab on her way home. A silly thing people do as, if she didn't text me, I could do nothing about it. Goodnight was all I could say. Maybe I'll say more next time.

Veselka was very quiet. I thought it was in tribute to what day it was, but the more I thought about it, I'm not sure they ever have music on in there. Maybe I just wanted the night to go on, but the lights were probably off by now, being packed away until next year. I got the text, and I felt at ease.

Club.

2008-09-20T03:12:00.001-04:00

I walked home carrying a guitar neck in my hand. I liked it. I may start carrying a club or small bat. Why don't more people do that? Did they do that in A Clockwork Orange? Or was it a riding crop or something?
I passed a car on my way home that contained a girl giving a guy a blowjob. I'm assuming it was a girl. Law of averages.
The Stills van has been parked around the corner from my apartment for two nights. Maybe I can get a ride to work from them tomorrow when they go pick up their gear.

Please find Becky.

2008-09-10T23:22:00.000-04:00

I composed my letter of resignation as I drifted off to sleep. That night, I saw people get hit by subway trains in my dreams. Today, I got an amazing splinter. It was about a half inch, and went in and out opposite sides of my finger. Didn't hurt. I'm going to search for the lights tomorrow night. I need to buy film. Why do newspapers endorse political candidates? How can I take them seriously if the tell me beforehand that they are favoring one candidate over another? I think I'm too sleepy to take a shower or wash the dishes. Sorta hit me just now.

Tonight's lesson.

2008-09-07T01:55:00.001-04:00

I have no hot water. I'm taking this situation as the hot water god's way of telling me I should have just stayed out after work and just gone straight from whatever bar I ended up in to my 8am job. I just worked ten hours in wet clothes because of the tropical storm that just blew by, and there's little reason to be here if I can't take a hot shower. So next saturday, I don't turn down the invites to go "wherever." We'll see if that approach teaches me another lesson.

Failure.

2008-09-04T00:48:00.001-04:00

I remember, wow, 16 years ago, coming home from work to find K watching the republican convention.
"They're all nazis! Fuckin nazis! What, what are they chanting? Sieg Heil? They're chanting Sieg Heil!"
I think that was during Pat Buchanan's speech.

This election means so much more, and, especially after tonight, I feel we are more doomed than ever.
I didn't even listen to the VP. By then, I was emailing youtube clips to a hurting friend to try to distract her. She probably didn't even look at them, but after my former mayor's speech, I guess I needed distracting as well. He made his points, and, on the topic of experience, I can't really argue with him. I just started to console myself by thinking, "hey, what difference does it really make who's president?" I wasn't planning on ever leaving the country again anyway.

So how should I prepare? The never-ending project of cleaning out my apartment probably won't help the economy. Going to guitar-building school won't stop the war. Working in a comedy club is just a bad idea in any lifetime. Protesting is really just preaching to the choir, and four years ago proved pointless. Living each day like it's your last makes a lot more sense to me right now. I could go out to a bar right now. Or I could just go to sleep. Becca, tell me what to do.