Thursday 12 July 2007

That messy monsoon yesterday afternoon made way for the most biblical breeze this morning. I realised dry cleaning smells pretty funky when it gets wet; I guess its a combo of my 100% worsted wool and the dry cleaning chemicals. It was so nice to just open the windows and turn off the AC for once last night.

There are so many birds around my new flat; I forget I live in Brooklyn when I hear the choir of chirps so early in the morning. My landlady across the way has a problem with raccoons taking up residence in her attic. I think its adorable, I'm sure she feels otherwise. I've seen cardinals and blue jays, too. I confirmed it with the dude who lives upstairs. He said "Yep". I feel like I should be putting on my overalls and sowing seeds. Oh, and the ocean last night, well the Narrows, the smell was so thick in the air. Living close enough to the shore almost my entire life I don't think I'd never smelled it as strong as it was last night. I felt like I lived in a beach town. I sent an email to a friend waxing about how different our hood would be if instead of our highway near the water it was just sand and shore. There'd be a lot more bungalows and a lot less condos I'd gather.

So after 3+ weeks of my truck sitting at the shop I've gotta go fetch it after work with nothing fixed. It took them 3 weeks to recommend I take it to an electrical spot. Whatever. I don't really mind because I was busy moving and didn't have the head to deal with musical cars. I'll be psyched to get it back and tear up the streets again though. Speaking of which, some dude came roaring down my block last night at like 3 a.m. with his bass thumpin and his ground effects popping. Set off all the car alarms. He must've felt like the man. I just thought he was gonna start shooting through my windows. I listen to 1010 WINS in bed and sometimes listening to the news creeps into your subconscious. And I've got enough going on in my head, throw the news in there with killing, death, and war all night and it makes for some fucked up dreams but its a side effect of staying informed that I must deal with.

I did have some manic dreams last night. One was nice though, I was sitting at a bar with my dad and I ordered a Black & Tan. Except my dad said it was made with wine. It was bittersweet (the dream, not the drink) because I'd never had a drink with my dad. Then I excused myself and went to the bathroom and two unidentifiable friends of mine pretended to stick me up by the urinals. 'Twas bizarre. Another good girlfriend of mine was in the dream playfully bickering with my mum which I thought was sweet. That's all I can recall though. I guess my mind is adjusting to the new energy in the new flat. Everyone tells me the house and its tenants have always been quite charmed and blessed so I'm waiting for that to happen. I guess a lot of people have gotten married or had kids there, too. Oh, boy!

So they rounded up all these geezers who shot those cops. Found the last two dudes holding hands on the side of the road in the Poconos. I guess they was looking for the Mount Airy Lodge; wanted to spend their last nights on earth feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries in a champagne glass shaped jacuzzi. The bigger dude ran and then the cops tackled him. He was out of breath and said he was "too old to run". The other dude spent the night in the bug infested woods off I-80 and they nailed him this morning. I wonder what its like to be on the run like that for something so fucked up. Like you know that once you get caught, thats it, your life is over. You'll never see the outside world again. I think I woulda ran further than the Poconos.

And what is the deal anyway with the Poconos? Every apartment building superintendent I've ever known vacations in the Poconos. Is it all Supers up there sitting around a lake, drinking beer and trading stories about broken elevators, annoying old lady tenants and leaky bathtubs? Now that I'd love to see.

I saw some thing on the Today Show this morning that I couldn't find online. It was an Al-Qaeda rehabilitation camp in Saudi Arabia. It was literally this converted 4-star resort funded by the Saudi government and its now basically a bunch of retired terrorists hanging around watching American TV, playing ping-pong and John Madden's NFL on X-Box. It was borderline hysterical. They said they were teaching the old timers how to be social and tolerant. I had to rub my eyes it was so bizarre. It looked like a Jihad summer camp or one of these fancy drug rehab resorts all the celebs go to with all these dudes standing around trying to be nice and not bite anyone. (Update: I found some links about those "Islamic Rehabilitation Centers". Go here or here)

Here's an article on bedroom Feng Shui that I found interesting. I don't need anymore superstitions though and covering my mirrors before I go to bed is just too much work for me. It's hard enough for me to remember to turn on the porch light and take my vitamins & crazy pills.

Oh, so I signed up for this 1010 WINS text message alert thing. I figure now that I've been reborn as Gabe Pressman Jr. I should be privy to breaking news at all times, right? Right. I can't risk being scooped by some layman! But the texts are starting to get annoying however its an all or nothing deal so I'm stuck. Like they sent me a text when they caught one of the cop killers in the Poconos and I was glad they did. But when I was trudging through a monsoon on Madison Avenue yesterday afternoon I didn't need to get a text about Lady Bird Johnson kicking the bucket. In fact, even if I wasn't navigating my way through this sudden ocean from the heavens, a breaking-news text about the 94 year old widow of a president wasn't necessary. Text me when the world is about to end or when they catch a cop killer climbing a tree, sure, but when some lady that lived 42 years LONGER than my dad did drops dead, I couldn't give a fuck. I never dreamt about having a Black & Tan with stupid Lady Bird Johnson.