A glorious September ends...don't wake me...as I milk a 2nd FREE month from Bally's gym

Oy, that's a long title, but it sums up today's thoughts. It's 2:19am and i'm tired. Super long day...yet productive, thus fun. My latest "vacation" ends just as the month of September does...perfect symmetry. So I got an email on Wednesday about Bally's Fitness Clubs offering a FREE 30-day trial TODAY ONLY if you just print out the email and take the club tour. Yes, that's right, I did it...and now have full access for a MONTH for not a penny. The funniest thing is that they had my email from the LAST time I went there...less than a year ago. Late last October, I walked in with some "free 30-day" thing I saw in the NY Post. It was surreal being back there...mainly in the "did almost a year fly by already?" sense. I worried about seeing the pushy Latina bitch who signed me up last time...mercifully, she wasn't there. The best part about today was that I didn't even take the tour! I flat out told them I'd been there before, thus endured only a brief "here's today's bargain sign-up deal" hard-sell before being told I was set to go. So let me recap...in a year's time, i'll have worked out FOR FREE at a full-service gym for TWO FULL MONTHS. Simply because I 1) read papers, 2) read emails, 3) actually make the effort to take advantage of things. And I was JUST writing about how I need to get into "enviable" shape by working out a lot again. Oh, yes, and I had Chinese tonight...icing on the cake of this wonderful month! Realizing more and more how much this past summer SUCKED. Thank Christ for AUTUMN!!

Carson Daly will NOT go away

It actually seems a lifetime ago that I used him as my reigning example of no-talent going SO far in show-biz. Nowadays, sadly, he seems like a TV visionary in comparison to SO many complete morons securing TV and movie deals. I could be merciless in my put downs, but i'll admit he seems like a nice enough guy who has worked reasonably hard. And if I knew him on a personal level, i'm sure he's a decent human being. But the FACT remains...in a showbiz sense, he's dull, nothing remotely special on ANY level, and NOT FUNNY. Let's run with this last point. The geniuses running NBC have poor Carson doing a MONOLOGUE on his little late night chatterfest. I repeat, A FUCKING MONOLOGUE. Note to anyone with their hearing and vision intact...Carson Daly is NOT a comedian. NOT. NOT. NOT. He canNOT tell a joke. That was JOHNNY Carson's specialty. If you find him funny, you're an idiot. And I don't wanna know you. Mr. Daly standing there for 5 minutes telling jokes is beyond painful to endure. I can just see the brilliant suits in their drab Burbank offices deciding this is the direction for young Daly to go in, the thing the "kids" will love from Mr. TRL. Perhaps Carson grasps he's as riveting as an IV drip...the stress of nightly failure to entertain could be the reason for his scary, emaciated new look. Carson Daly should be a radio DJ...that's the extent of his broadcasting talents. "Oh, Gary, you're so harsh! You're just jealous." Yes, I am harsh. But i'm right. And I'm not really jealous, either. I'm merely observing, rolling my eyes, and typing. Um, so WHEN is someone gonna PAY me for doing this?!?!

Lights guiding me home, I cruised through downtown Newark...

There I was, speeding down Rt. 21 south, listening to Coldplay, when the line "lights will guide you home" from FIX YOU came on just as the Newark skyline came into view. Poetic, no? I was in a delightfully zen, dreamy state as it was, so I decided to nix my usual exit and keep going straight into downtown. It was about 10:15pm...and I was startled to still see people milling about on the street...and not crack addicts. Kind of a sad commentary that the sight of humans DOWNTOWN in the state's largest city at only 10pm-ish stuns me. I was also startled to see the new light rail, which i'd forgotten about. You go, Newark! I wrote a blog the other day about how conflicted i've always been about Manhattan. Well, and this may sound ridiculous, but i'm COMPLETELY comfortable in Newark...though, sadly, not in a "I'll DEFINITELY be free of the fear of gang gunfire" way. I feel like i've said this before on here, but I just find it so sad that Newark isn't a city I can "live and play" in. It's RIGHT FUCKING THERE...the state's biggest city. I'd LOVE to work, live, play there...if only there WERE a "there" there. It's actually worlds better now than a decade ago...the arts center opened in '97, construction has finally begun on a new stadium for the Devils, and MOST impressively, luxury apartments just recently opened in the 2nd tallest building in the city, which had been vacant for like 20 years. LUXURY apartments in DOWNTOWN Newark...THAT is what's needed...PEOPLE!! It needs to feel safe. It needs more restaurants and stores. I wish it still had "Bamberger's" like it did when I was little. It needs a lot still, but i've forever had faith in its eventual comeback. If I had the money, I might even be one of the pioneers in the new apartments. They've got a new, young, dynamic, educated mayor in Cory Booker, too. But while it was fun to take this random drive down Broad Street, with the windows open on this balmy late September night, Coldplay blaring, the tall buildings next to me, and surrounded by the various urban lights...it was more promise than reality. I'm glad I grew up next to it, but i'll be happier when I can walk out of a movie downtown at 11pm, then go get a beer, and not worry about being shot. Change is glacial.

So Harry "Making Love" Hamlin was "visibly shaken"?!?!

The always hard-hitting ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT just had a emotional, slo-mo "full story" on the SHOCKING loss of Harry Hamlin last night on DANCING WITH THE STARS...or, as "Gram" is fond of calling it, DANCING UNDER THE STARS. Wife and ET "special correspondent" Lisa "Big Lips" Rinna was SHOCKED, the audience was SHOCKED, Mary Hart informed us that EVERYONE was SHOCKED. Mark Steines soon described Hamlin as "visibly shaken" and Hamlin told ET that "the hardest part would be going home to tell his daughters." OH, MY FUCKING GOD, AM I THE ONLY ONE ON THE PLANET WHO CAN'T STAND ANOTHER HYPERBOLIC WORD OUT OF ENTERTAINERS' MOUTHS?!!??!!?!?? You were on an ungodly cheesy ABC fucking viewer-voted dance contest, Harry...NO ONE JUST DIED!!!!!!! I mean, the split screen was between Hamlin and Jerry Springer...dancing! It is ABSURD! I'm ever-closer to the Unabomber's way-of-life...

Hassan, The Rug Man

At least I think his name was Hassan. If not that, something very close. He came to my parents' house tonight as the rep from the rug company they called. It's finally time to rip up the 27-year-old rug and either put a new one down or leave the hardwood floors. So Hassan walks in with his briefcase and about 3 giant folders of rug samples. I didn't even really plan on being there. But i'm glad I was. I quickly became fascinated by Hassan...and marginally intrigued by the artistic process of my parents -- and to some small extent, me -- picking out a new rug color. But let's focus on Hassan. The point of this whole entry is that I felt such a melancholic empathy with the guy. He had a mild accent...seemed, oh, Egyptian or something like that. But nothing terrorist-like. Just a nice young guy...could've been 25, but also could've been right out of college. And here he was, based out of a company in Hackensack, driving around northern NJ at 5:30pm, entering strangers' houses with his rug crap, and polo shirt and khakis, and pleasant manner, desperately trying to secure a rug contract. I don't mean to imply he was sweating and nervous and begging us to sign on the dotted line. He was calm and professional, generally knew his stuff without consulting index cards, and laughed and interacted easily with my lovably wacky family. I actually liked that he wasn't this eye-rolling salesman talking a lot of shit. He wanted our business, but he wasn't an asshole about it. But here's the thing...he clearly doesn't get out of bed every morning going, "Holy FUCK, I can't WAIT to get to work selling rugs door to door!" I wondered what he went to school for...assuming he went to school. I wondered, basically, what he wanted out of life. And what he thought of my parents and myself...how genuine was he? How much did he JUST want my mother to pick a fucking color and get on with it? I kept praying my parents didn't hassle him too much...while also not being rushed into a sale. I stood there thinking, "good for you, Hassan...going to work every day at a job you surely couldn't care less about, and maintaining such an incredibly pleasant manner!" Everyone deserves respect...this is why I say "hi" and "thank you" and "have a good day" to everyone I encounter just doing their job...toll booth people, checkout person, bank teller, the guy on a corner in 20-degree weather selling papers. I don't know why they're there or how much they hate it...but they can't love it. And being spoken to nicely and with a smile may be the one thing keeping them going. I see too many people just grabbing their purchases and money, not even looking at who's giving it to them. It's rude and obnoxious. Be nice to the Hassans in your daily life. They're just trying to put food on the table and don't need your bullshit, uppity attitude. Hassan, you did a good job...whether or not my parents choose your company to beautify their home. You were polite, friendly, and doing the best you could. Raise for Hassan!

Carefree/Productive

I find it increasingly interesting how i'm often most relaxed when i'm getting tons of shit done...when i'm not obsessing every waking moment over things that cause me stress. Ironically, even WRITING this blog can cause me to overly dwell. If I just did NOT feel the need to record things, to write them down, I wouldn't be driven to melancholy or worry. It's a tough balancing act, like so much of life. Because I DO have just endless, endless thoughts...opinions...interests...goals. It can be rather taxing. Many melancholy thoughts entered my mind today...driven by both the course of my day and also by the front page of the newspaper. There's just endless sadness in the world. But it's good in a sick way...it makes me feel like my problems are appalling non-issues...the "perspective" part of my blog title. You know, i'm writing this with AOL Radio on...I shouldn't write with distractions...so this entry isn't as good as it could be if written in the complete silence of my panic room. So this new Ted Danson comedy on ABC premiered tonight...I'd read some reviews and found the stars, plot, and promo promising. And I watched it. And, yes, I was amused. It's not genius. But it held my attention longer than most things. The topic? THERAPY. I could endlessly go off on this topic. In fact, I can't bear to get into it right now...not when i'm breezily bopping my head to Weezer's BEVERLY HILLS as I write this. In short, though, 1) this show is funny, 2) this show reaffirms many of the things I find eye-rolling about therapy. OK, i'll say ONE thing...doesn't anyone think it a TAD curious that most shrinks have shrinks of their OWN?!?! Should tell you something about the total stranger you're forking over your hard-earned money to. And although I have 137 other points to make, i'll end it there. Summing up today's theme...i'm relaxed, been rather productive, could always be MORE productive...and as conscious as ever of a laundry list of potentially stressful issues to deal with. POTENTIALLY stressful. Because it's all about MANAGING stress. Or flat-out deciding, you know what...quit whining...you're alive, you have a roof over your head...BE HAPPY.

Something's gone horribly awry with Joey Lawrence's appearance

First of all, DANCING WITH THE STARS is NOT appointment TV for me. Few things are anymore. I feel compelled to make that clear. But, yeah, i'm tired tonight from 4 days of yardwork and running around on various levels, so i've been "sampling" some things as I occasionally sit in the comfy reclining chair. And Mr. "Gimme A Break!" is just too bald, too buff, and too tan. And let's throw in those disturbingly waxed eyebrows. Maybe if he was just a LITTLE bald...and not so tan or buff. And had his eyebrows from birth. But it's extreme on all levels and I find him hard to look at. It's unsettling, in fact. Dolph Sweet would NOT approve.

Superdome reopening vs. Janet on Oprah...

It's rough on these days where my head is just FULL of commentary. It's also 2am and I have a headache. It's also the start of the last week of September. My point is that I can't focus right now. There's no cohesive musings today. I'm very happy the Superdome reopened...it's indeed an inspiring thing. I GOTTA get down there...never been, and now it needs tourists more than ever. Onto Janet...she remains a curiousity to me. CONTROL was great, RHYTHM NATION 1814 (whatever the fuck the 1814 stands for) was REALLY great, and janet. was perhaps the best yet. Then she got all introspective and less hit-savvy with THE VELVET ROPE...and after that, it's been all downhill. She's like Whitney...becoming more and more noted for PAST triumphs. Whitney needs to come to earth, but Janet merely needs to realize how to craft a current-sounding hit song again...something that just reaches out and grabs you like LOVE WILL NEVER DO did in '90 or IF did in '93. This is also where I gloat, for the 2,394th time, about Madonna's unending relevance...and she's been around longer than either W or J. Don't hate me because i'm always right. I know it's annoying, though. Moving on...today has been very full, very productive, very surprising. A very good Monday. I need to start working out again. With weights...regularly. I've majorly slacked lately. Luckily, yardwork works the muscles on top...and biking and walking shapes the legs. But i'm increasingly worried about people's "please let it happen!" warnings that my metabolism will start to slow. I LOVE proving people wrong...and i'm very competitive. So having a kickass bod when I turn 35, 40, 45 is very important to me. I want fucking high schoolers to look at me with disgust as they peer down at their own hideous lumpy guts or man tits. Yes, that's what I want. Nothing would make me happier, lol. A man twice or triple their age with a better body! I want an ENVIABLE bod! So that's ONE of my dreams. See how my mind wanders on these blogs? I had NO idea today's entry would end with me recalling how so very much I enjoyed the film HEATHERS...

25 YEARS AGO TODAY...

Grandma died. Being like Rain Man with dates, it's not like i'm just putting the figures together for the first time. But for some reason, it's not something i've been dwelling on for weeks. I really wasn't thinking about it much at all...until this evening when it dawned on me that that's why mom and dad went to church tonight instead of the usual Sunday appointment...there was a mass in my grandmother's name. And THEN I dwelled on it...that turning point day in my young life...as I sat finishing dinner in HER old house...a house I likely wouldn't have grown up in if she hadn't died. How the bloody hell can 25 years have gone by? I then began obsessing on how the next 25 years are gonna fly, and we'll all be dead before we know it. Cheery things like that. It's certainly a milestone anniversary of a milestone day. And i'd be a fool NOT to (further) grasp time's relentless march. It's funny...overall, today was great...productive and lucrative. I'm far from depressed. I even spent tons of time landscaping at my cousins', recalling for the first time in years how I used to watch their house being built as an 8-year-old...and today I was maintaining it. The whole full circle thing. I really WAS an odd child...going off to stare from across the street at bricks being cemented, one after the other...very soothing, lol. And so my obsession with linear lines and order began early. And I was doing yardwork for a first cousin of my grandmother...who is roughly the age, 89, my grandmother would be today. So strange. Yes, she died young...something you realize more fully with time. God, there's TOO much to go into...too many odd parallels to how I spent today. I don't even know why i'm writing this here...Christ, I'm violating my "don't reveal too much!" clause. The weather certainly couldn't be more different from 1981. Then, it was in the 50s during the day with a brisk wind and variable clouds and sun. Today, it was 75 and muggy and felt like August. In fact, I went to Pathmark a short time ago in flip-flops and a sleeveless shirt...at 2:30am on the first day of fall. It truly feels like mid-summer. Ok, i'm done...need to sleep. I found a dollar (dammit, WHY can't I ever find a $20?!) outside my parents' house when I left tonight. I had to laugh as I saw it...ALMOST like Gram was watching out for me...xoxo.

15 minutes left of SUMMER '06...

At 12:03am, autumn begins. I lingered a bit in mom's yard suburban yard tonight...the last summer evening. It's pretty nice out...64 with a strong southwest breeze. And it's gonna be around 80 and humid this weekend, so summer will NOT go quietly! I like temps in the 70s and even 80s to last well into October, interspersed with crisp days in the 60s. When the lows start getting below 45 and the highs don't leave the 50s, I start getting a tad annoyed. Eh, but you always get used to it, don't ya? And before you know it, a HIGH of 45 is reason to spend the afternoon outdoors. Ideally, though, it'd reach 75 at least once each month from October through March. And it can. Hell, it can reach 90 in October and March. That glorious winter of '01-'02, I went to the beach and laid out at least once a month! Loved it! Hey, it's 12:11am...hello, AUTUMN!!

Manhattan makes me sad

I had a wonderful evening in it tonight with the luscious Hungarian. An unexpected East Village dinner ensued. An OUTSIDE dinner...on this, the last FULL night of summer '06. Dinner, outside, NYC, the bestest old friend, tons of laughs. I had a great time, honest. So why did I come away from it so melancholy? Maybe because I felt like I was walking through The Ghost of NYC Past, Circa 1996...except most of the main characters had left the show. Kind of like "ER" now...technically the same show as ten years ago...same hospital, same Chicago streets, yet you don't recognize most of the characters, and the whole damn thing just feels tired and worn out. Does Manhattan feel tired to me? That's kinda dramatic and ludicrous. Manhattan is MANHATTAN. But it can be wearying. And lonely. The thing that keeps it fascinating...its ever-evolving go-go-go structure...makes things from 6 months ago seem dated, let alone 10 years ago. And that makes YOU feel dated. And you're...and by "you're," I mean ME...constantly nostalgic. Forget 1996...the summer of '04 seems like a lifetime ago to me. Perhaps it's not Manhattan. Maybe if the main characters came back, i'd feel better. Maybe I'd feel the same way in Pittsburgh, DC, Tampa, Dallas...LA. Or any small town. Anywhere. I think it's different to a degree, though, in Manhattan. It's exhilarating or wildly depressing...depending on the characters and the storyline of your life. If there even ARE any "regulars" left in the cast. I always fought any impulse to say I didn't enjoy NYC, feeling it'd be some sign of defeat and weakness. Yet, gazillions of other humans live and work outside NYC and seem to carry on just fine. Right now, frankly, i'm finally ready to admit i'm sick of Manhattan. Not done with it...sick of it. Alert the press.

A gray-haired Jamie Lee Curtis...

...is VERY, very disturbing. Not fully gray. And she's been sporting it to some degree for years, actually. But she's on Leno now, in her trademark short, spiky hairdo that she's been sporting since TRADING PLACES in '84...hell, maybe even earlier. When was her John Travolta fiasco, PERFECT, out? '83, I think. But it's just SO odd to see her gray. Same exact face and figure as when she was running from Michael Myers in that little seminal gem of '78...but gray hair. Hmm, gee, that WAS 28 years ago. I guess that cuts to what really scares me...MY advancing years. But wait...here's Joan Jett...about the same age...and SMOKIN' fine! She's basically wearing just a bra...abs flat as a board (you know, like mine), not a gray hair on her head, and rockin' out! Joan has now made me less depressed about age. Quit trying to prove a point, Jamie Lee...introduce yourself to Clairol. It'll make me feel better. I don't give a shit if it's an illusion. Illusions are what life's all about.

"Awww, come here, sweetie..."

THIS is what I said before to...are you ready?...a LADYBUG. A ladybug I found on my hall floor. Struggling to regain its footing. I was delighted to find this remnant of summer laying on its back. A living, breathing, beautiful creature of God, I carefully picked it up and dumped it out the window...probably killing it in the 2-story fall, now that I think of it. My intentions were good, though. But how funny how tenderly I was treating a ladybug. SWEETIE?!

"HOW YA DOIN?"

On my 11:30pm walk before, some guy passed me on my street...a young guy...Latino of some kind, to be exact, lol...talking on his cell...and I was in the middle of my knee-jerk "I'm gonna casually avoid acknowledging this other human is walking past me at 11:30pm on an otherwise quiet street" thing, when he barks out "HOW YA DOIN?" to me...in the middle of his animated cell call. I was startled, made quick eye contact, muttered something like "hey, what's up?" and continued on. I kept turning around, seeing if he turned into a house on my street, wondering if he was a familiar face i'd somehow not remembered. I'm good with faces, you know. He never entered a house, though. So here I am, more than an hour later, musing on the fact that a total stranger said hello to me IN THE MIDDLE OF A PHONECALL, simply because he passed me on the street late at night. Just like they're supposed to in Mayberry, USA. And yet, I'm thrown by it, my urban guard always being up. Hell, even in rural settings, i'd find it odd. I think there's very specific settings where you say hello to a stranger...like on a nature trail, as I experienced just last month in the meadowlands. I very clearly recall saying hello with a smile to a woman passing by on the rocky trail. Yet I ignored a couple men. Guess it's situational. But an urban street? Yes, i'm obsessing. Bottom line...it was nice. I LIKE that this stranger took note of my existence passing him on a sublime super-late-summer night. My fellow man...a moment in time...hello...goodbye. Manners AREN'T dead.

Stupid ShopRite check-out cunt told me I'm "a good shopper"

Yes, I know, you dumb whore, speed it the fuck up! Those were the words going through my head, at least, after she spent like 5 fucking minutes going through each of my 6 coupons, matching them to the item, and adding up the "triple"ness in her head. You see, in my ongoing orgasmic glee of TRIPLE COUPON WEEK, I made yet another jaunt to ShopRite. Poor guy in back of me has a single gallon of milk to pay for in the express line, and I'M holding him up...mortifying! I almost waved him in front of me, knowing how infuriated I am when I have but a single item and some jackass in front of me is causing problems. But it wasn't ME...it was this dumb bitch check-out clit. But after shaking my leg, looking at my watch, tapping my fingers, and thinking ungodly profane things about her as she inexplicably wasted my time, she smiled sweetly and said, "you're a good shopper!" And then I felt bad...kinda. Well, she's still dumb and slow. Perhaps CUNT is too harsh, though. Sweet thing. Nice of her to compliment me. She's right, of course. My reply was "I try." To say "thank you" seemed too friendly. Besides, I KNOW i'm a good shopper. Today's unbelievable haul? I got SEVEN name-brand items for...$3.01!!!!! That includes THREE free rice items! FREE!! God, it makes me so happy to get shockingly reduced savings. And I was thinking as I was there how i'd be doing the SAME thing if someone dropped a million dollars in my lap tomorrow...because I got to thinking of people who "don't have time" to clip coupons...and I was getting steamed as I thought of these people. It's so fucking ludicrous and pretentious and flat-out stupid. But you know what, it's occurred to me, shocker, that I get comedic mileage out of the staggering mass stupidity of my fellow man...and woman. It's an ongoing struggle...I don't WANT to be annoyed...but it's fun mocking them AND being superior. So, thank you, Check-Out Cunt for your kind words...

THREE'S COMPANY marathon!!!!!

There they are...my childhood SoCal icons, Jack, Janet and Chrissy, biking together alongside the Pacific in the freeze frame end credits. OH, how I yearn to re-create those scenes! And I WILL! TV Land is having a 2-day marathon of one of my all-time faves. I'm pissed the original pilot, without Joyce DeWitt or Suzanne Somers, is airing at 7am...Lord knows i'll be asleep. I've stated before how much I love this show...both for its no-lessons-learned hilarity AND for how it so vividly reminds me of being a little kid, watching the original episodes on Tuesday nights before being forced to bed...curled up in my one-piece comfy PJs on the couch. Can't someone make adult PJs like that? You know, with the feet in them? OOOOOOO, I can still conjure the feeling of zipping up my furry frontside from crotch to neck! I YEARN to wear those again...pacing the neighborhood in them at 2am, cigar in my mouth...

Exactly $7 bought me the following from ShopRite...

Are you ready? Yes? OK, here we go...a gallon of milk, 2 cans of Campbell's chili, 6 oz. tube of Aquafresh toothpaste, 160 count of 2-ply tissues, 8 oz. bag of Snyder's pretzel sandwiches, 14 oz. Starburst smoothie, and 64 oz. Apple & Eve Tropicals Mango Passion drink. EIGHT name-brand things for exactly SEVEN DOLLARS. Don't you love when the total is on the dollar? Oh, yes, and I got the toothpaste AND smoothie absolutely FREE. Three of the above 7 things were on sale, but the BIG secret weapon today was TRIPLE COUPON WEEK!! I've been going nuts at both ShopRite and Pathmark. I got a box of granola bars for a quarter yesterday. It's just beyond fucking fantastic. So that was the highlight of my Saturday night...hahaha!! Hey, i'm fine with that...it's the first Saturday in 5 weeks I haven't had plans, and I'm getting a little cold, too, so i'm fine spending THE LAST SATURDAY NIGHT OF SUMMER '06 resting comfortably at home. In honor of summer's pending departure, i've even put my AC on tonight...though that's mainly due to the fact it's stuffy in my room and I'm not feeling that well. I pray for a good night's sleep...whenever the fuck I get to bed. But, seriously, aren't my grocery savings just deserving of some award?

R.I.P. Ann Richards

I remain shocked that the former governor of Texas, the very definition of ALIVE, died of (sigh) cancer on Wednesday night at the YOUNG age of 73. A great loss. And yet another reminder that even the most vibrant can be cut down far too soon.

Middle of September

Is that a song title? If not, it should be. Maybe i'll pen something. But, yeah, it's smack dab in the middle of September...just wanted to point that out...to my "readers" and myself. September 15th. Still officially summer...one more week. Temps in the 80s actually beckon on Sunday and Monday. Yay! Always such an interesting month, September is. A month of change. I like that.

Nickelback

I like this Canadian "rock" group, and i'm not afraid to admit it. More than the songs themselves, I like that the songs are on the radio at ALL, amongst all the dance and rap stuff. Actually, their album is still in the top 10 after like 10 months out, so it's not like they need ME to wave their banner. I don't think they're given their due, though, critically. And since I AM the official arbiter of good taste...America, I give you the green light...Nickelback IS cool!!

WILL IT FLOAT??

This most simplistic of segments on Letterman fascinates me weekly. I find myself seriously pondering if the objects will float or not, barking my decision out loud to whoever's around...which is normally no one. For the record, i'm usually right. Like tonight, a plastic container of grease...well, of COURSE it'll float! And that's how you'll usually find me spending my Friday night. HA! So, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous Commentator...which gender are you? Where are you? Age? Religion? History of arrests? YOUR blog? In the immortal words of Abba...gimme, gimme, gimme...

So i'm not blogging as much, you say?

**I DEMAND to know the identity of the painfully few people who comment on this blog, dammit!! Control freak that I am, it bugs the hell out of me to get commentary sans identification...though i'm sure my saying that will only egg you fuckers on more. So I just got a comment that i'm not blogging as much. Yes, very astute observation, dear reader. It's like anything...the novelty wearing off. But I still blog a reasonably great deal, I think. Though I know there's just an avalanche of thoughts I never put to paper, er, keyboard. I WILL make a concerted effort to be more productive in this arena again. For starters, here's some random thoughts to satiate you...

*Late at night on Sept. 11 the other day, I re-caught PBS' "American Experience" documentary on the entire history of the World Trade Center. I first saw this on the anniversary of the attacks in 2003. It was mesmerizing then, perhaps even more so now. Not to mention profoundly sad and disturbing. Not what I should have been viewing, perhaps, right before bed. It was hard to watch to the point where my stomach was getting upset...and that NEVER happens to me. But that's how I was on That Day in 2001, too. But it's one of the best things I've viewed about the attacks. It's devoid of flashy graphics and dire music and slo-mo bullshit. It just very simply and straight-forwardly gives the facts and horrifying video of that day. Which is awful enough. But what makes it even more poignant is that it shows the HISTORY of the building...from the early blueprints to the painstaking construction of these majestic 110-story twin towers. You're shown Frenchman Philippe Petit's staggering 1974 high-wire walk between the 2 towers. And the 1993 bombing. Everything...the entire history...complete with one awesome shot after another of these 2 towers, night and day, from every angle. You get such an idea of the incredible amount of time and manpower devoted to these buildings. There's just such an overwhelming sense of LOSS viewing this documentary. And as I viewed it, at the end of the 5th anniversary of the attacks, I truly realized how much my life had been altered by 9/11. I mean, I knew it before, but it was like a major re-affirmation. Change with me is usually more like a dripping faucet than a bursting pipe. I'm not the type to run out and do something rash. And to the casual observer, I may not be different at all. It's not like I was a Wall Street shark who quit my job and took up farming, dumped my suit for overalls, shaved my head and started chanting...it's not big, obvious changes like that. But I ABSOLUTELY am a different person than I was 5 years ago. What I value, who I value, what I have patience for...never much in the first place, lol. So I was just so struck sitting there in bed realizing how the effects of that awful day had slowly permeated through me over the past 5 years. How terrorism is CONSTANTLY on my mind. Hell, the day after, on Tuesday, I was on the PATH train at rush hour, looking around closely at all the other passengers, thinking how I COULD be blown up at any second...the London commuter bombings on my mind...breathing a sigh of relief once I got to my station. And it's always like that now. Pleasant way to live, huh? But you learn to live with it...I certainly don't mean to imply i'm a shaking wreck who won't leave the house. Not remotely. I'm just noting how that day TOTALLY changed my life, and you make adjustments and adapt the best you can. And i'm also noting how it's often only in retrospect that the past makes sense. That's a pretty lengthy "random thought," I know.

*Here's a shorter one...Letterman is as funny and surreal as ever. My new fave is the warm, maternal waitress coming over to Dave's desk to take an order, pour some coffee, ask if he wants the check, etc...RIOT!

Five years after...

It's all still hard to fathom. That it's been 5 years is hard to grasp, too. And on a WHOLE other, selfish level, it's fascinating to chart MY life over the past 5 years...how a chapter of my life parallels The War on Terror. Incredibly complicated stuff on so many levels. But very interesting...to me...for me. Today's been unbearably sad. Glad to see it done with.

SEPT 10, 2001

Such a great day that was. Particularly in retrospect. But I actually remember it. How it was warm and humid with a late afternoon monsoon that required me pulling off the highway to wait it out. And then it cleared up, the humidity lowered, and it was just a wonderfully clear, refreshing evening. And I came home to watch EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND and was laughing my ass off. And it was gonna be fantastic out the next day...sunny, low 80s...so I was gonna head to the beach...yet again. I couldn't wait to get to the beach. Not a care in the world. The Great Summer of '01 was just continuing to roll along into September. I got up about 8:15am, I guess, that Tuesday. Put the tea on. Turned the computer on. God, it was nice out!

My back's to the window when i'm on the computer in the living room. If it faced the window, perhaps I'd have seen the plane barrelling down the Hudson River, as I have quite an impressive view of lower Manhattan, though not of the World Trade Center. I'd always cursed the monstrosity of an apartment building that blocked my view of it. My friend Donna's daily hilarious and scathing emails had already begun to roll in. At the very end of one around 9am, she asked if there was "some kind of explosion." And so began my awareness of the horror unfolding just across the river from me. And now it's 5 years later, which I just can't comprehend. In the blink of an eye. And it's 1:30am and i'm sitting at the same computer in the same room (pathetic, but that's another blog). And it's partly cloudy and 62 degrees outside. And I can turn my head and look out at Manhattan. The cliche is that change is constant. But I still can't wrap my head around all that changed that day...and in the 5 years since. It's like BC/AC to me. And i'm always wondering when IT will happen again. And will I be a victim? I wasn't this way on September 10, 2001. But I adapt well.

Some poorly-raised FUCK stole my bike!!

I'm too tired and weary to be engulfed in rage. But I found my bike to be GONE when I went to retrieve it about 10:15pm after a 13-hour lockup in downtown Hoboken. I'm sure my rage will show itself more clearly when I NEED the bike. Right now, i'm clinging to the "perspective" part of this blog. And I DO mean clinging. But the thief left my bike lock...how considerate. And it wasn't remotely damaged...and was locked up again to the bike rack...both oddities, don't you think? I mean, I always put my bike there because it was in PLAIN SIGHT on a busy sidewalk. HOW could someone have stolen it without being suspicious...without breaking the lock? Ahhh, i'm a curious -- and tenacious -- fellow...I'm already busy putting a profile together of the suspect...and i'm NOT totally giving up on getting it back. I'll pay the police a visit, put some shaming signs up, concoct some kind of internet Most Wanted campaign. And, of course, scour the streets of Hoboken, namely Da Hood, looking for my bike. Motherfuckers made Gary ANGRY!! It had been such a good week, too...again goes to prove my theory that there's always another, far filthier shoe waiting to drop...

INDIANAPOLIS!!

Gary went on a road trip. Gary was very ecstatic about this. Gary will now stop talking about himself in the third person now. But I haven't blogged in like a fucking week...Lord! The Great Trip To Indianapolis took a tad more than 12 hours. Went with the parents and a cousin...to visit other cousins. Left at 7:37am last Friday, got home 8:30ish Tuesday night. And it was relatively out-of-nowhere, the BEST type of trip. Tons of sightseeing, tons of cornfields, tons of ponderous moments that road trips tend to bring me. Let's not forget the fun, though. It was a HELL of a good time. But yeah, getting away jolts you out of your zone and gives you a wealth of new perspectives...the farther you go, the more this is so -- hey, that rhymes. So i've been absorbing my 5 days in the midwest...the farthest west i've been in more than a decade...and I hope to institute changes in my life based on my experience. Can that be more vague? I simply mean that it was a great experience that has further influenced my overall thinking. Yeah. Standing out alone on country road 166th Street at dusk on Labor Day was a fine way to unofficially close Summer 2006. So now i've blogged. And this week's been VERY interesting. And September is proving to be everything positive that most of the summer wasn't. Could be a deliciously intriguing autumn...