It was colder here than I thought when I got here. I went to the thrift store across from the Obama For Change office to buy a coat. They didn't carry any mens clothing. I found a really nice black leather jacket in the women's section. The only problem was the buttons were on the wrong side. Hey. It was good enough for Jimi Hendrix.
Then I saw this cup. Can you believe it? It must be some kind of sign. I just don't know what it means.
The first night here I thought I had scored. It was quiet. It was clean. It is run by a family of South Asians. I think maybe Bangledesh. I asked the thin dour man who ran the place if I could have a weekly rate. Sure thing but I would have to move downstairs.
Downstairs in the smoking section it's a different world. My first night there a woman who had tailed her husband there with a prostitute had a screaming match with him in the hallway. It was 3AM. He came storming out and wrestled her down the hallway.
"Andre Smxywnems is wanted in New Jersey." She screamed.
The next night some old man was lecturing his hotel mate directly behind my head. Class was held at 3am. Then Mr. Thump Thump Thump moved in above me. I have been here for 3 days and it already feels like a year.
This is the room that the local Obama staffers found for me in Hazelton. A mattress on the floor. I had to rifle through the closet to find my own sheets. Luckily there was a down comforter in a dry cleaning bag among the piles of boxes and books and VHS cassettes that filled this some sort of study room.
The host wasn't there to greet me. He was working at the campaign headquarters. I don't know who he was or if he was his son but the guy who answered the door had black framed glasses with impossibly thick lenses. He never looked at me but only into the phone he was simultaneously talking into as he led me around the house. He was a nice guy. Friendly. But something had happened in his life and I don't know if he always did but now he stuttered and repeated himself and went off on tangents that, not knowing the terrain of the world he inhabited, that I couldn't follow.
I counted three cats in the house so far as he showed me my choice of rooms. By the smell of the wall to wall carpet they seemed to be engaged in a long drawn out pissing war. Dave.. Day... Davy.. was on the phone with a neighbor who had spotted another combatant that had escaped and had called in to report it's location.
The house had a big Obama sign that filled the screen door. There was another patriotic blue sign on the lawn. Beyond that the neighbors had surrounded it with McCain/Palin signs. These were good people, but I couldn't stay there.
I made my bed. I went to the office. I had a tuna sandwich. Then I went back to the house, took my things and checked into a Motel.
David Murphy bought this black Volvo so that he could surf the Hamptons during the summer of 08. After that he went to Bali. He lent it to me so that I could go to PA to work for the Obama campaign. Its a big car and it was hard to park in Harlem. I ended up bringing it to the Bronx and leaving it on my Aunt Margaret's street. There is no alternate parking up there and she could see it from her front porch.
Driving out to PA from Harlem was easy. Once I got over the GWB I was already on I-95 S. Merging onto I-80 W to PA was a piece of cake. After that it was 117 miles on the same road. Highways really are designed for the most incompetent among us. Even me, a New Yorker who gets behind the wheel maybe 5 times a year can handle it.
I left at mid afternoon and already there were long shadows on the highway. But the sky was a bright blue and the sun still had some summer heat to offer. I opened up the roof. By mid New Jersey the road was dense with trees at the height of their rainbow display.
I turned the dial on the radio and found WFMU coming in strong. The DJ was spinning obscure 60s psychedelia groups. For more than an hour everything was great. Then I approached the Delaware Water Gap. The topography changed. The temperature dropped. FMU sputtered and disintegrated. I turned the dial to the left and Christian rock group on "The Word FM" was thrashing out the lyric:
He shall be named.
He shall be named.
I turned the dial to the right and some old man was crowing about Honest Abe Lincoln walking 200 miles in the snow to return a penny and George Washington chopping down a cherry tree and then owning up to it and how now nobody talks about that anymore because Satan is running everything.
Then I stumbled upon the clear beacon of an NPR affiliate. There was hope.
Wednesday is chocolate day. Boy did we get lucky. This place is in Saugerties just outside of Woodstock. They make, top notch, hand crafted, fair trade chocolates. As good as any place in The City.
The last time I saw this thing was on September 10th 2001. I had heard they fished it out of the ruins and put it somewhere.
When I came out of the subway today at bowling green I was greeted by this
I heard that number on the radio today and I could not believe it. I had to go online to The New York Times to check it. That is the biggest number I have ever heard talking about one thing.
The most ominous measure in the Bush proposed bill (ironically titled section 13) reads like this:
"Decisions by the Secretary pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency."
So that's the end of democracy. Let's look for a new definition:
"A philosophy or system of government that is marked by stringent social and economic control, a strong, centralized government usually headed by a dictator, and often a policy of belligerent nationalism."
Hey, we are getting closer!
All over the New York City 99¢ stores have become untenable. Meanwhile the electorate wants to seat a lipstick wearing pig in the Whitehouse.
There were hundreds of these right below the lighthouse in Montauk. They are loaded with vitamin C and make an excellent tonic.
Murphy bought these massive cookies at a local bakery. They look like normal cookies that have caught cancer.
