I just got back from more laundry and yet another delicious soul food lunch special. I think I may be addicted to both. Soul food restaurants seem to be the only places to get large portions of unpretentious, pronounceable vegetables at reasonable prices in New York, not to mention jerk goat and grits.
Last Friday saw Tim, Sherm, Christine and me up at Tom and Pauline’s in New Haven, of all places, for a brief look at Yale, the fall foliage and to clear the beach of vermin for the season:
Back in Brooklyn on Saturday, I met up with Jessica who had flown in from Maine just to sing karaoke with me. We were out until almost 6 in the AM, still singing medleys of TV theme songs to anyone who would listen.
After lunch with Pamela and John Oliver, of all people, in Chelsea on Tuesday, I tried to catch up to the Veterans’ Day Parade, but those vets were either too fast or I was too easily sidetracked.
I stopped in to see a $10 ‘psychic advisor’ palm reading gypsy lady, who told me that I ‘will have a very long life’. That finally settled and much to my relief, I tipped her two bucks and took my time (now that I had more) getting to the Intrepid, the ostensible start of the parade:
The Intrepid had been billed as ‘the greatest symbol of peace’ in New York Harbor that morning by the douchebag singing Bush’s praises and running the Veterans’ Day ceremony. He must have missed the Statue of Liberty somehow on his way in - gigantic artillery piece or surface-to-air missile in the way, I guess.
The neuropathy has stabilized for the worse, but I bought a pair of high tops to improve my support, widen my wheel-base and fit in better in Brooklyn. Three hours of walking didn’t do me any favors, so I met Marguerite for drinks and Thai at the end of my hike in midtown.
Thanks for the comments. I’m off to town to buy a camera before the sabbath. Later.