Coney Island. Sept. 2004 (part 2)

I walked out on the pier at Coney Island. There was a film crew out there shooting something. Judging by the lack of on-set support (no trucks or catering to be found, although they did have quite a bit of equipment) I would say a low priced independent film. Definitely a step above a student guerilla shoot. Either way, I'm sure I would never see it anywhere. Hardly memorable or a good photo.

What I did find remarkable were the fisher... err, people I encountered. They were younger and older and male and female. Some had fishing poles but many did not. Most had equipment consisting of some fishing wire on a hook wrapped around a Coke can. Coke being the preferred can of fisherpeople. I don't know why. They would bait the hook with meat or cheese or even bread sometimes and fling the fishing wire over the pier. Then they'd watch for a hit and reel in the catch. I didn't see anything caught larger than three or four inches so I have no idea what kind of food it becomes, but many of them had buckets full of fish.

The boys pictured above are checking out a crab trap. The trap looks like a lettuce spinner. The bait is again chicken but whole pieces. I'm assuming it's chicken they got free or from the garbage but it's raw. I can't imagine it's cost effective to buy the chicken to catch the tiny little crabs I saw them hauling in. Also, I can't imagine that the fish and crab caught along the shore of Coney Island are necessarily safe to eat, although I have to say the beach and boardwalk were spotless on this day.

Still, the boys seemed to be having a delightful time playing with raw meat and funny looking pinchy crabs and fish flopping around on the pier. There's that squeal of discovery and delight that only seems to last until one is around five years old or so, that never fails to bring at least a tiny smile to anyone's face. If you're lucky.

Why am I channeling Little Mary Sunshine?

Recipe For A Nice Day Off

Mix one part home maintenance with one part self indulgence. Add a pinch of on-line fucking around and stir in a satisfaying masturbation session. Bake at 400 and serve when cool.

I woke up earlier than expected considering I got home from work at 4:30 am. I was travel ready by about 1:30 or so. I headed for Bitch, Bath and Beyond, Bitch looking for a cigarette fan for the office at work. I'm pretty sure I'm quitting but not until I find something else. So I need to adjust my environment to suit me as best I can for now. I got a little sidetracked and bought myself some dearly needed socks and underoos at the Old Gravy. At the BX4 I picked up a kitchen soap dispenser, some bathroom grouting supplies and some Oxyclean spray. (Glamorous, I know.)

I headed back to my castle high atop Second Ave. I eagerly prepared to try and repair the grout around the tub as well as one of the plexiglas panels in the bathroom door.

CHRIST! this is boring!

I did some home repair. Then I went shopping. I got a brand new winter coat on sale. There's a big clearance sale going on right now at Filene's Basement. Go! Get a winter coat off-season for next year. Half price!

I went to the gym and shaved my balls and hole in the shower. A man kept staring at me. Like nobody else shaves their balls and hole. I'm kidding. Sort of.

I cleaned the bathroom. I cleaned the kitchen. I repaired the loose panel in the bathroom door.

We have mice. I set out poison and glue traps. I intend to kill the mice. PETA be damned. If I catch enough of the little fuckers I'll make a mouse vest from their skin. Or at least gloves.

Shits N' Giggles

I did my part. Just now.

More gay penguins.

Talk about keeping your word.

Every Silver Lining Has A Dark Cloud

I put my tax return in to my checking account. Feeling flush, I proceeded to pay the current bills. I paid the rent, cable bill, phone, Con-Ed (electric) and a credit card payment. The result? I had about 50 dollars left. Granted, that doesn't include my current woefully substandard paycheck. I have money in my pocket and am in no danger of starving but I really wish I was making enough that money was again an afterthought instead of an obsession. To achieve that I would have to go back to bartending. I'm not sure I'm willing to do that. I quit bartending because I thought I was too old. But I miss the flexibility I had in my hours and I really miss having plenty of available cash at all times. Last night I had drinks at The Pheonix. Seeing the staff they had hired, I'm definitely not too old to be bartending. I just need to find the right bar. It's not lost on me that I could make the money I'm making now, working 50+ hours a week, working 3 nights in any decent NYC gay bar.

Still, I had a nice couple of days. My "good head" seems to be holding. Work doesn't seem like a big scary place anymore. It's just work. I had to put my foot down and smack down a couple of unruly employees yesterday. I hated being in a position that they forced me to be in, but I stepped up and stood my ground. I think I got their grudging respect.

A Little Help, Please...

I want to post some audio and video files. Any suggestions using Blogger? I'm cleaning out my old drive getting it ready to be used as storage. I've found some good stuff to share.

More Proof

Home from work at 2:10 am. In bed by 2:30. Up at 5:45 am. Showering now to be on the subway, back to work by 6:30 am. I'm scheduled to be off around 11 pm. I hope they allow me a morsel to eat at some point. This job is good why?

As The Light (Fucking Finally!) Pierces The Darkness

I was dreading having the kids take off for Cali and leave me alone. I've been in such a precarious mental state of late, that I was afraid of just being with me, only. Turns out it was just what I needed. I didn't just survive it, I thrived. I had plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts and consider where I am and what is really and truly going wrong. I had a chance at several self counseling sessions. A skill that has come in handy over the years. I'll probably expand on this post in the coming weeks, but suffice it to say I had a bunch of moments of clarity over the last few days, and I'm finally feeling better. Stronger. And very much more peaceful. I know what I need to do now.

On a completey unrelated note, several fellow bloggers have printed shots from this photoshoot. Apparently, if you're closer to 20 than 40, this qualifies as hot. I guess he grew pubic hair or something. To which I say: eww, shave! In any case, he'll be performing at The Club (No Lucy, you can't be in the show) on Feb 19th. That's my birthday.

Waaaa-Hoooooo!

In what can only be described as a model of remarkable efficiency, the state of New York has seen fit to send me a check for my tax return only a week after filing it. And it's much more $$$ than I usually get. Hopefully, my federal return isn't far behind but regardless, if I want to, I can go ahead and order that laptop I was eyeballing yesterday on EBay. Or plan that well-deserved vacation. Or pay off another credit card.

Awww, spit. Knowing me I'll blow it all on hookers and beer.

Coney Island. Sept. 2004

I have a series of pictures along the wall of my kitchen. They are various sizes and all black and white. Most of them I've had for years. Among them: Two children side by side alone on a beach. A solitary figure in a park dressed in black against a white winter backdrop. A man with a cello walking alone across the Brooklyn Bridge. So I guess it's no surprise that I was compelled to snap this shot last year on my visit to Coney Island. I got plenty of shots with plenty of people. But this one appealed to me. Thing is, I just noticed the variations on the theme last month.

Blogging In My Boxers

With a late-night voddie. I slept in today.Then I rolled over and slept some more. It was around 1:40 in the afternoon before I clicked on the "morning" coffee. I was tired from work and the temperature in my bedroom was perfect. The blinds were down and the humidifier was making a white noise barrier to the New York City traffic below. The result: merciful great big gobs of sweet sweet slumber.

How did I spend my weekend, you ask? Well, technically I'm having my weekend now as I worked on your weekend. Aside from enjoying having the castle high atop Second Ave. all to myself (as my kids are both vacationing in Cali), did I throw a wild orgy where I bottomed for six latin tops? Actually, I re-glazed my bathtub ... *crickets*. Yeah I know. My life is pretty damn exciting. Still, I tried everything to restore the porcelain in my big old claw-footed bathtub. I scrubbed, I bleached, I soaked and nothing worked. My white tub always had a grey veneer and I was constantly obsessing (imagine that) that anyone looking at it would assume it was dirt. Actually, sometimes it was. While I mistakenly and foolishly turned The Ex on to the wonderful world of hot baths, I failed to explain that the last five minutes of any hot bath needs to include the bather wiping all the human flesh and soap scum that gets left behind. And The Hellcat seems to assume that when he (frequently) grooms his facial hair, once said hair is off his body it magically disappears and doesn't trail down the side of the tub. Both for me to clean, apparently. But I digress.

So I found this way cool stuff one afternoon on an aimless search of my local hardware store. I do that every once in a while. Just wander around a hardware store (or lately, now that we have one, the Home Depot) and look at stuff. Just to look. You mix can A into can B and wait an hour. A chemical reaction takes place in can B and you brush the liquid on to your tub. Repeat the next day after storing the can overnight in the freezer (to slow the chemical reaction and extend the life of the product). The result is supposed to be a new porcelain finish on your tub, tile or sink. But there's a catch. You have to let the finish cure for 5 days before you use it. The obvious problem is how do you put a shower out of commission for five days for three people. You really don't. So when I realized that both my kids would be away from the apartment for an extended period I searched my mental "To Do" list and the tub restoration seemed the obvious choice. I'm pleased to report it really, really works. The first coat had me worried cause it looked kind of crappy but the second coat covered beautifully. My bathtub is now white and shiny and well, beautiful. How ironic is it that I think I decided that I want to move out?

I have an internet acquaintance by the name of Mak. He's having a problem with on the job smoking. I feel that pain. In the manager's office at The Club (No Lucy, you can't be in the show), half the managers smoke and all the bartenders do. The bartenders are frequently in the office cashing out. I can be in this tiny little room sometimes with three other people. All smoking. I quit three years ago, so the smell of smoke doesn't offend me per se. But I quit for health reasons. And this was before I was diagnosed HIV+. It really bothered me right before I got sick from a cold. Before I realized that the cold was making me feel like crap, I was afraid it was the second-hand smoke and was considering quitting my job. I still am. There is no way realistically I can take a stand against the smoking. Even though it's completely illegal, if I try (and succeed or not) I would be the most unpopular person there by far. In general, I've fallen in with a very unhealthy bunch. Between the lack of food and the closet-sized smoke-filled manager's office I'm forced to work in, everything I've done the last few years to live a healthier lifestyle is in danger of being un-done. If I let it.