a hit with the olde thymers

a hit with the olde thymers

last week I read an article tgat came by the facebook feed about electriccars flourishing in Houston
I have a cousin who lives there and works for an oil company
so I sent her a note to just reach out and touch
under the auspices of asking if the oil componies were getting into the e-car deal somehow

a few hours later
see sent me a text message telling me she was in NYC and staying just a few blocks from me at her boy-friend’s bother’s apartment

I’ve been awful busy lately
(I thought of the line “keeping busy with strangers”… as that’s what I mostly do… though not nessecarily the last few days)
so didn’t see her today
for brunch (after leaving a new stranger/friend on the trainheading down to Penn station to catch the Megabus home to BostonLand)
Her boy friend’s brother is gay
and told a charming story of his last day working at this very resaurant (on Columbus at 81st: just imagine)
a large black lady
with a fresh hair-do was in his section
when he greeted her and asked what he could get for her
she said “a different waiter please… a straight one.”
he left to compose himself
but quickly returned
assuring her hecould perform adequately
but she reaffirmed he desire
putting her bible on the table
like a pistol in a card game
he stood up
and noticing a passing waiter carrying a full tray of sangria
snatched the pitcher and dumped it on the lady saying ” then you canto fuck yourself, bitch”

a flair for the dramatic
but did it in front of her kids
so hopefully made the world a little better place

nice enough food
we the headed to The Natural History Museum
which I’d not been in for years
and I’d entirely forgotten it was pay-what-you-will
we breezed through until we found the dinosaurs
and the kind of senitive I am
bowled through me as I approached the T-Rex skull
I was shocked
wondering what it was I could feel rolling through me
the years?
the spirit of the beast?
the fascination of the human eyes who had gazed upon it?

I was buzzed
but they were on a schedule
flying out at four
we found our way out
(passed a rather suggestive quote about The Youth by Theodore Rosevelt)
and walked through the Park
the Ramble, actually
where I said perhaps a bit too much
funny gay uncle that I am
she’s my first cousin, 25
not shocked
but perhaps her construction foreman bf from Dallas…
his gay brother even

they got on the train to go back up
pack
and fly out

I went back into the museum
anyone want to hang out?

just smiles from those everywhere but here
I mostly spent time with the geological samples
feeling the earth
my fingers over the rough and polished surfaces
a huge Garnet! gigantic slab of tourmalines!… and all the ores…

I sat underneath a strange representation of the earth
where the clouds disappeared, the vegitation died, the oceans dried up… then the planet revitalized… over&over with a calm female voice narrating it in dead-pan smile

lava
iron red Jasper
and the moon

in the gift shop
the sold ecospheres
sealed
with algae and plant and shrip
that would apparently life indefinately because it was perfectly balanced
and horrifying
what would it be like to have one?
forever living and dying in perpetual stasis?

like living in the suburbs…

if I exposed it to low level radiation
say, putting it on my red fiesta p
saucer
would they mutate over time?

huuugh

I saw reptiles
African peoples
pulled wire
iron workers (the Egyptians didn’t have Iron… were they just respecting the faeries?)

I walked out onto 77th and at the corner, dissuaded by the long line at The Shake Shack
I turned to the flea market
…now The Green Flea
fea.
a man continually calling out $3 bouquets
a beautiful old metal mortar&pestle, $65

a gust of wind blew
I coughed
and wondered if there was a specific homeopathic for the cough that comes when the wind blows..

Asian artifacts
or fakes
the girl
calling every green stone “jade”
anyone know if that’s a cultural thing?
(like injuns in Fresno calling every burnable leafy plant “sage”)
or just a scam dependant on mineral ignorance?
saw a pair of old frames I might of bought
a frumpy round man smiled at me in a way…
a designer Italian jacket
meant for a skinny tall black guy
I went inside
never realized there was a flea market in the school
is that only a winter thing?

I looked at tables of things
astutely avoiding eye contact with some of the sellers…
looking for a hall tree, that’s all I wanted
but all this stuff
this old stuff
why is it so expensive?
aren’t junk fares supposed to be cheap?
it’s 2010 in new york
ok, ok
a nice table
filled with European trade
lighters, cigarette holders and cases
but behind it
a chubby man with grey goatee and hair
says he likes my hair and beard
then stands up and comes out around to stand next to me
I shake his hand and introduce myself
he, again, says he likes how I look
looks me over
and is shyly taciturn
I try to keep the conversation going
and keep touching him
his arm, shoulder
and the feelings roll through me

his (business?) partner is a nice British woman with red hair
he’s French
I talk with him about lighters
pick up one in a leather case saying I like its style
and he says “that’s English” with a hint of that old distain…

I want to buy something from him
but don’t really want more stuff
I got a ton of new clothes in Friday
and my bedroom is a constipated clutter of useful items I don’t know what to do with…

I fingered a beautiful silver(plated) flask
but $85 was enough to off-put me
even though he said it was his
in his Studio 54 days
does that mean “gay”?
not really
but I shook his hand again (lovely thick mitt) and we exchanged cards

what if that’s his wife?

I walked around more
down the crowded hall flanked with student Lockers
I paused to admire a picture of Socrates on a classroom door
a man there perking up and saying Hello and commenting on my beard
I continued through the vendors
and broke out in to the cold
getting a shake a fries (excellent fries)
ate them standing next to a father and son
Divorced Dad trying to be frank with his kid
not really understanding how his kid worked
putting forth ideas and sentiments and back-pedaling, explaining, side stepping

a woman in the museum had berated her… grandchild… about always losing and breaking things
setting a seed of failure into the child’s brain because she forgot how un-dextrous most children are

I got a call from a client who wanted me to spank him
I had to talk in couched terms next to the kid
so went out to walk
and confirmed the date
then stopped into the Tibet Bazaar to get more suede covered sticks for my bowls I’m disseminating this week
and a new hat, only $25
which looks nice on me
she said
I like her; glad the shop is still there

stopped into Harry’s Shoes
and they Almost had what I’m looking for
I’ll come back in two weeks with cash
the 86th st entrance to the 1 was closed
but there was a bus, M104, I rode up to 96 to get on the train
but bought a book on Flemish and Dutch paintings… coz it was rather cheap and had a beautiful bearded man on the cover
the man took my money
in the wind
and stared at me intently
while his woman friend commented how she liked my beard
“like Cat Stevens when… when he…”
‘when he was Cat Steven?’ I offered
“Yes”

train there as I walked down the stairs: perfect

obviously not enough time to write all this in that short trip
so have been laying on my couch in the soft salt light typing this on Giordano (my iPhone) while listening to sings starting at “La Duchess Anne” to “Lauchhammer”

I passed a big pile of human feces on the walk out of the 1 tunnel
I was so focused on writing I almost stepped in it

what luck

now gotta prepare for a massage ( with spanking ) and spending the night in the west village

.iP