Category: Dear Diary

We watched “L’âge d’or”, a Buñuel movie from 1930, last night and I fell asleep before the extras. It was kind of bizarre. This from IMDB: “This film was granted a screening permit after being presented to the Board of Censors as the dream of a madman. Opening at Studio 28 in Paris in October 1930, word spread about the film’s bizarre content. On the evening of 3 December 1930, the fascist League of Patriots and other groups began (halfway through the film) to throw purple ink at the screen, then rushed out into the lobby of the theater, slashing paintings by Yves Tanguy, Salvador Dalí, Joan Miró, and Man Ray.” It didn’t make it’s US premiere until 1979.

I woke before the alarm this morning. We don’t usually set that but today was the official launch of Apple’s iPad. We cashed in some credit card point for Best Buy certificates and we were at the store at 8:30 with a thermos of coffee. Some kids in the front of the line were there at midnight but there only about twenty five people in line when we showed up. A store employee told the crowd that UPS had been there at eight and there would be enough for everybody. A couple of Best Buy employees went out to the Apple store to buy theirs before work. We heard hundreds were in two lines out there.

We had one in hands by 10AM and then headed downtown to look at an art show we had missed last night, a painting by Enrique Mora that the Philips Gallery used in their First Friday ad really caught my eye. The gallery didn’t open until noon.

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Sparky stopped over this morning. I was working but still in my pjs. He had a new car h anted to show us. He told us we were gonna die when we saw it. I tried to think of what an unlikely Sparky vehicle would look like. I guessed, “a sports car?” “No.” “A van?” Sparky had a small mobile home that he bought one time but it was full of trouble. And over the years he has had everything from a Ford Escort to a a pick-up truck. He even bought our old Olds that came from Peggi’s father. He buys cars to entertain himself. He used to run a garage called “Sparky’s Shell” on Hudson and he loves to tinker. He was always jacking them up and rotating the tires or greasing the underside. His prize possession is his 1987 Chevy and rents a neighbor’s garage each winter to store it there until the salt is gone.

I got dressed and went out front to see what looked like a brand new car with a distinctive hood ornament. It was a 1997 Cadillac and it made perfect sense for this country gentleman. (He was born in Kentucky and got as far as fifth grade). I told him he deserves this car. I gave him a bucket of what we thought was copper but he told us it was brass. He picks up junk all the time and recycles aluminum and all sorts of metal. I’ve gone to Krieger’s junk yard with him many times and left with a few bucks.

Back in the house I called up a Google map of our old street. We went up and down both sides of the street talking about the old neighbors. Jack is an assisted living now and two gay guys bought his house. The two sisters on the end of the street sold and moved on. Helen is living with her daughter and her grandkids are living in the place. The Boykins are still there and out in their small yard all of the time. All these people were there the whole time we lived there. A very nice black lady bought Barb’s house. The yard in our old house looked a little overgrown but Sparky said Elizabeth is is keeping the place up fine.

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I’m Irish (and English) but I had to look up Saint Patrick when we got back home. You’d think he was some sort of pagan patron saint of debauchery. Turns out he was a Celt so I guess he walks a fine line.

I asked Peggi to take this photo of the guys in the booth next to us. I never would have got the same expression that she is capable of eliciting. We walked over to Shamrock Jack’s for lunch, our tradition on Saint Patty’s Day. When we lived in the city we would just walk to Carroll’s at the corner but out here we walk through the woods and part of the park and then through a funky neighborhood down near the lake that reminds us of Bloomington to get to Shamrock Jack’s. The little pockets of snow looked ridiculous in 55 degrees.

We each wore the only green clothes we have but they don’t come close to the toxic green that most revelers wear. The place was packed at noon. We could hardly hear each other. The music was all thump, thump and then a guy with a guitar started playing goofy folk ditties. After his first song he announced, “Drink up and I’ll sound better”. One of them was stuck in our heads for the way home but I can’t remember it now, thank god. An infomercial was playing on a tv above our booth, featuring Christie Brinkley and Chuck Norris on outdoor exercise equipment. I was mesmerized by the surrealness of it all.

Everybody has Guinness these days. Carroll’s used to have old guys playing accordion and bagpipe players and the Pogues on the juke box. Stuff that would have made Saint Patrick proud.

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We watched a Frank Lloyd Wright documentary last night and my favorite scene was the black and white footage of a Mike (cigarette smoking) Wallace interview where Frank’s says, “I put a capital ‘N’ on Nature. That’s my idea of God.” I would second that but skip the cap. It is absolutely beautiful in the woods today!

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Either this hawk was following us in the woods or we were following it. We got out early and the skiing was great. We have had more skiable days this year than any I can remember.

A guy stopped in Jerome’s this afternoon to pick up his car and he told Ted a story about hunting on a hundred acres of land that a lawyer friend of his owns in the southern tier. The lawyer had built four blinds up in the trees for deer hunting and the little shacks were so airtight that you could hunt in your t-shirt. And if you got bored waiting for the deer to wander by he had piles of magazines in there. He didn’t say what kind of magazines. This guy said the next time he goes down there he might bring his computer and look for a wifi connection.

They have wireless over at Jerome’s but Ted can’t remember the password so I was sort of left in the dark while they replaced the sway bar fittings on our Honda. Ted just tried calling Frontier to see if they could tell him what his password is but he got interrupted by a delivery guy and then a customer calling to find out if they had determined what was wrong with his car. Ted takes all these problems in stride and stays as cheerful as Barack Obama. One of the mechanics came into the office and told Ted that one of the parts they ordered for our car had a grease fitting and the other didn’t so Ted got on the phone and tried to get a matched pair with or without. He preferred the grease fitting but he couldn’t get one today.

An older couple came in to drop off one of their cars and they called Ted “Teddy”. A young couple walked in next. Each person that walks in sets off bell as they cross the threshold of the waiting room. They were picking up a Mazda for the guy’s father. Jerome’s had rebuilt the engine and Ted told the kid he wanted him to check the oil every time he get gas for the next 1500 miles and then bring it back for an oil change. The kid told Ted he was majoring in “New Media Design” at RIT. When we were alone I asked him what “New Media” meant and he said , Basically making things look cool on the web. I spend a lot of time doing Flash.” Mike, the guy that was doing the work on our car stuck his head in to say that Albany was getting twenty inches of snow and 150,000 people were already without power.” He seemed kind of excited about this. In the paper this morning one of the local weathermen was quoted as saying “This is going to be a monster of a storm”. There are probably kids going to college to learn how to hype the weather.

As I was paying my bill Ted said try •••••••••••••. It worked and I got online. Hint: It has something to do with a vintage car.

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After meeting with our financial adviser we had dinner at Peggi’s mom’s apartment in the Bistro. This is my favorite restaurant in the city. Is not open to the public but I suppose you could eat here if you said you were thinking about checking in to the Senior Living facility. We had a delicious portabella mushroom dish and peppermint tea for dessert. The table next to us ordered the flaming banana dish and we all cheered when Tracy torched them.

The Bistro’s walls are decorated with framed posters of black and white French café photos and they set a perfect mood of civilized escape. We had just watched a 2003 film on Henri Cartier Bresson last night called “An Impassioned Eye.” He is my favorite photographer by a long shot. His photos are full of life and perfectly composed. They feel sculptural to me. They read at a glance and from a distance as well. He spoils you. He is a master.

Back in Peggi’s mom’s apartment I took control of the remote an we hopped back and forth from the English Premier League’s Everton vs. Arsenal game to America’s Funniest Home Videos. Did you know Paul Dodd is “England’s Number One Soccer Yob?

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The band was hoppin’ on Wednesday night at the Little and we made the double bonus. We sold six cds and won some new fans. Mike Allen took me out to his car at break time to play some new arrangements of songs he plans to perform. He had recorded keyboard and tone generator bass lines. They were snippets but the essential parts of the songs and here he was singing live over those instrumental parts while in the drivers seat, head back and eyes closed. He did a jazzy version of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ and merged it with a blues tune so the lyric veered into a guy catching his woman (Mommy) making it with another guy. I was knocked out.

John Gilmore made a copy of the Dylan Christmas album for us. I’m afraid Bob has gone soft in the head because the playing and arrangements are so stock they put a spotlight on the Bard’s croak. His “Who Stole the Kishka” version of “Must Be Santa” is the only decent track. I read a review of “The Jazz Loft Project” somewhere and ordered it for Christmas. I dove into it this morning and love it. In the mood, I was playing a Charlie Parker lp that Roy Sowers loaned us and Peggi’s mom asked, “Is this Christmas music?” Peggi said “Yes” without flinching.

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Winter is just getting started and yet the days will get longer and the sun will start to move higher in the sky tomorrow. The “pagan” solstice is reason enough to celebrate but then the early Christians had to glom on their agenda and now it seems like the whole US economy is depending on the Santa Claus crap. Although they deserve it the Catholics resent the Christmas toy invasion. I offer my favorite Christmas story as proof. My first grade teacher, a nun at Saint John’s on Humboldt Street, asked for a show of hands on “How many kids still believe in Santa Claus?”

Dancing to Bobbie Henry and the Goners at their Christmas show on Saturday night at Abilene was a perfect holiday celebration. That would have been enough but gluttony calls. Better loosen your seat belt.

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We’ve been walking our neighbors dog while his owner recuperates from a bout a pneumonia. A few of our neighbor’s jaw’s dropped when they saw us stroll by with this guy. Some folks are dog people and some are not. Having been bit a couple of times, I fall somewhere in between and we sort of know which neighbors don’t care for them.

There must be a trick to getting the leash (rope) to stay on top of the dog but we haven’t figured that out yet. It keeps falling under the dog and then he steps on it while he walks and then pees on it when he lifts his leg (every other tree). Leo has named all his dogs Tasha. There were three before we moved here and there have been four since. This time Tasha is a boy and we keep saying “she” and then correcting ourselves. It gets tedious. Now I know how Johnny Cash felt. the new Tashas have all been part of Lollypop Farms” “Seniors For Seniors” program. Some are in rough shape themselves and they don’t last long. And then there was the one that bit me on the ass and then turned on Leo. He was taken back.

We visited Leo when he was in the nursing home and he told us he thought he had “passed the physical therapy test and he was going home”. He was sitting up, waiting for the doctor to stop by and sign the release, when we walked in. While we talked a nurse called us out in the hall to tell us that he had packed his clothes at least five times and they had to keep unpacking them and hanging them back up. He is a tough customer and it’s good to see him getting his strength back.

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