i went out way farther than i might have aticipated today. i have bene through most if not all of these streets before but it’s been a few years and some of them look very different than i remember.
51st Avenue, where it runs parallel to Borden Avenue, is a favorite side street. and Borden Avenue has a payphone through which i used to be able to hear Disney Radio. i have noticed that on other payphones: for some reason you can faintly and even not-so-faintly hear Disney Radio broadcasting through the fizzy static of the payphone. and it always seems to be Disney Radio, though i do not always try to listen long enough to get the station ID, but it always at least sounds like Disney Radio.
i felt a little lost at one point, which is always a good feeling for me, but i realized that Skillman Avenue simply extends longer than i thought, and that virtually every place of business along the way seemed to have changed since last i passed through.
there was no real point to the adventure. none at all, really. just feeling restless and wanting to get out in the decent weather in case there is none for a while. i should probably stay at home tomorrow and polish off my web world, as i have been doing of late.
i noticed something strange yesterday. those emergency call boxes that uselessly linger every few city blocks are manufactured by Norelco. nothing wrong with that, someone has to make those thing,s but electric razors and archaic emergency call boxes make for a somewhat eccentric product line.
…..
i am at the beer hall where, some weeks ago, i had one of the more notable screaming baby experiences i’ve had in a bar. it was not even the worst experience (which may seem hard to believe after i tell it) but it was sickening.
this is a pretty large space, and few people are usually here when i check in (that’s why i check in here). so when 3 screaming, diaper-clad babies started running around the floor it didn’t really bother me too much. until they started running closer and closer to me. it was like a game of chicken, and the parents in charge seemed not to give a crap if their babies raced up to strangers as they minded their strange business. that’s one of the things i never understand about screaming babies in bars: what kind of parent thinks a man drinking beers by himself is a safe place to send your screaming baby? do parents think that all the world loves a screaming kid in their face?
as these three screaming diaper-clad babies raced nearer and nearer i finally got a sense that the parents either sensed that i was studiously ignoring the infants, or that maybe they had some other moment of clarity. whatever the case one of the parents picked up 2 of the infants, leaving one to run around by the beer kegs. and that’s where it happened: that baby took a monster dump in his diaper, sending a foul, foul stench of baby shit all around the area… and sad to say i was the only one besides the kid’s daddy who fully experienced the righteous stink.my eyes watered and my tummy nearly revolted. baby poop does not smell as foul as some turds i’ve churned out, but it is distinctly and hellishly putrid.
the single worst screaming baby experience i ever had was the night hell itself enclosed itself upon me. for about a half hour i was in any reasonable person’s definition of hell.
i was at a much smaller place than this, but it was a beautiful day and all the windows and door swere opened when a family of 6 with 3 screaming babies arrived. they sat outside, far from anyone already present when they arrived, and no one really noticed them much.
then the rains came. suddenly the clouds poured in, the sky grew dark, and everyone sitting outside had to scramble inside to avoid the cloudburst of rain. almost at that exact moment my ex-girlfriend (freshly ex, i should add), showed up, smiling a fake smile and spitefully ignoring me even as we sat 3 feet apart. the screaming babies from outside became the screaming babies inside, as the doors and iwndows were drawn shut by the barkeep. the rian was torrential. the basement of the place suddenly flooded. the kitchen is in the basement, and had to be closed, resulting in a slew of angry customers trapped inside a restaurant that would not serve food. that was not my problem, of course, since i don’t work there, but it added much to the piss-and-bile atmosphere of the small room. the torrential rains did not slow the frantic running around of hte screaming babies. it only inspired them, percolated their energies, aroused the rejoicing of thine youthiness. they screamed like desert cats, running as far in one direction as they could before turning to run as far as they could in the other direction, constantly screaming and laughing but at least not shitting. then the ceiling started to leak. i was sitting directly under a pretty large gusher of rainwater, and i had to move from my seat, but where could i run? the screaming babies were no longer running around, they were writhing in amoebalike joy on the floor. it was dark, i was drunk, the floor was wet, my freshly-ex girlfriend was sending lasers of hatred my way, the customers were pissing and bitching about not being able to order cheeseburgers, and the bartender and i looked at each other. He said “This is it. This is Hell. Hell itself has arrived.” We both laughed and I stood up to try and get to the bathroom. It was a minefield. One wrong intoxicated step and I might crush the head of a screaming, writhing baby whose fuckall parents let them run amock in a drinking establishment filled with drunk, hostile, angry human beings.
i also had no umbrella, nor did hte bar have any in thier lost and found, but even if an umbrella was available i doubt i would have challenged this hellatious (sp?) rain, even to walk just a few blocks.
that was hell, and it was really the screaming babies that made it hell.
…..
i had no inspiration to scramble that story together. it was, like I here, just sitting there.
…..
i felt useful on Friday. annoyed, but useful. i am going to a Carnegie Hall concert on Tuesday, 1/31. Carnegie and the other venues usually send a reminder e-mail about the upcoming event, with a bunch of spammy links to their other products and services.
i like those reminder e-mails. the spammy links bedamned, i think the reminder e-mails serve a useful purpose.
so i got an e-mail from Carnegie Hall on Friday, January 27th. the subject line said something like “REMINDER: JANUARY 27TH, PHILIP GLASS 9TH SYMPHONY”. the text of the e-mail first said that the concert started precisely at 7:30pm. but my ticket said the concert was at 8pm on Tuesday, January 31st. the subject line made it look like the concert was that night,and the first text in the e-mail clearly said that the concert started at 7:30! further down in the e-mail i read that the concert started at 8pm, but no date was given.
the e-mail was obviously a mess, and my first thought was that the web guys must have fucked this one up. this type of errantry did not seem like something an even reasonably capable ticketing department would dump on its customers.
i quickly wrote back saying (in substance) wtf, my ticket says this, your e-mail says that, so WHEN IS THE FUCKING CONCERT?
the response was quick, to-the-point, and best of all: appreciative. the feedback representative who responded made it clear that the concert was exactly when and where indicated on my ticket, and that he had forwarded my comments to the web team. i knew it! THE WEB TEAM. you simply can’t trust techies with communicating with the public.
the feedback dude ended his response by saying he appreciated me bringing this matter to his attention. he made a deliberate point of saying that, and i believe him! as someone who generally does not feel too useful in this world i took a little bit of satisfaction in making myself… useful. i just hope no one got her or his ass fired over this. i imagine that a lot of people got a similar or identical e-mail.
…..
i started running today. on Borden Avenue. i can’t run too thunderously with all the camera gear, but for a couple of hundred feet i ran. i was feeling good. i don’t run much, but i felt good. my body feels like it wants to be healthy.
then, on Jackson Avenue about 40 minutes later, i stopped in my tracks. it was the same sensation of overwhelming numb as happened yesterday at Godspell. I don’t know what it is. there is an accompanying throbbing feeling in whatever bodily organ sits under right rib cage. i have had that throbbing feeling before. when i first got health insurance in 2005 or 2006 i reported to the emergency room (because that was how i thought health care worked in the United States of America). i needlessly occupied a hospital bed until a doctor showed up and i fundamentally realized that i was not an emergency. even with insurance i had to pay $500 for this mistake. or maybe not. the ER deductible at the time was something like $125, but i was too embarrassed at having made a mistake and too intimidated by the power of the health care industry’s lawyers to challenge the $500 invoice that came a few weeks later. i paid it. today i would not take the same approach, but i mature slowly. i was muumbling to myself today, on Borden Avenue, that i am still a little boy, and i should expect never grow up in any meaningful way.
if i gleaned no other insight about my bad self from the most recent exgf it is that i agree with her when she said i was like a little boy. she said it with a sense of wonderment: “you’re like a little boy.” i should have responded: most men are.