Tag: New York City

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Jealous all the time, Pt 1

The Grey Men

The kid got his first stripe in BJJ recently. He was thrilled. As was I.

Him: Papa, papa, look!
Me: That’s awesome! I’m proud of you.
Him: (beams)

Didn’t vote for the first time in…dunno how long. Although, not for lack of trying. We went to two and almost three places but I wasn’t to be found.

I’m disappearing, it seems. Maybe that’s for the best.

I miss when I was a grey man and no one knew me and what I could do.

As for the boy, he’ll have secrets of his own, someday.

Had lots of plans this past weekend but everything fell through because of everything I told you. And some stuff I haven’t.

Every time I think I’m outta the woods, I find out I’m not.

Was planning on just working on cleaning up my digital life the entire weekend when I got a message from a fella that goes to my gym.

Him: Let’s try to grab a drink soon!
Me: I’m dealing with some craziness now that’s a bit hard to explain. (thinking) Oh wait, what are you doing tonight? You’re in Manhattan, yes?
Him: Yup! Let meet after I have dinner – closer to 8 works?

Told you once that no one knew that I did weapons work – for close to two decades no less – because I did it for me. It only came out because Alison died and I stopped caring and did Scenic Fights.

While I’m proud of what we do, and the fellas are great, a part of me regrets that decision. For many reasons.

In any case, this fella, we’ll call him The Frenchman, has been coming to Paxibellum’s kali class for about a year. He and his wife slip in, do their thing, and slip out.

Through Facebook, I found out that he knew Bryson and I was shocked that he’s a black belt from his school.

For those of you not in the life, that’s a really big deal. And it’s from a world-renowned academy, no less.

So, I was looking forward to finding out more about him at at my local dive bar, where he had wine and I stuck to hard seltzers and beers.

Me: You’re like me, a grey man. You have skills that you don’t talk about, I like that.
Him: (laughing) Yes. I do these things for myself, there’s no reason for anyone else to know.
Me: (nodding) Same. You’re a grappler that wants to learn weapons. I’m a weapons person that wants to learn grappling.
Him: What else do you do?
Me: (laughing) You first.

We ended up chatting for about three hours there but then it started getting loud so we went to a much nicer joint where we stayed past midnight.

That place was much louder.

He was curious about Scenic Fights, the gym, what I do…and Alison.

Me: Sorry, I didn’t expect there to be a band playing tonight.
Him: It’s fine. Tell me about your wife.
Me: Where to begin?
Him: We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.
Me: (shrugging) I always like talking about her. I just tend to cry when I do.

It turns out that one of his best friends also died of brain cancer. How sad and wild.

He lived a lot longer than Alison, though.

I was oddly jealous about that, which, admittedly, is a super fucked-up thing to think.

Then again, I’m pretty fucked up.

But it’s late, so I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: home, with way too much alcohol, weapons, and sweets about
Mood: rough
Music: The rest of the world was black and white (Spotify)
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Halloween 2022

Kindness in the world

The hits keep coming. Thought I was out of the woods (again) when my messaging apps started to be targeted.

Lost all my messages with Alison, Gradgirl, everyone.

It’s been exhausting. As soon as I patch one thing, something new breaks. Part of me wonders if they just want to drive me insane.

It may be working.

Before COVID, the (humongous) building next to us would invite the kid and me over to celebrate.

We had friends in the building and were friends with the staff, but this one older fella there always made sure we got an invite, just in case our friends or the staff didn’t invite us.

Just found out that he’s the condo president there.

I remain touched by all the kindness in the world.

Him: Can you come?
Me: Can we? We’re flattered we’re even invited!
Him: Of course you’re invited, you’re my guests!

The kid and my friend’s kid don’t really hang out much beyond this one sweet Halloween tradition, just because of scheduling and life, but the mom remarked:

Her: It’s funny, they never really see each other but when they do, it’s like no time has passed at all.
Me: (laughing) I suppose that’s how it is with good friends.

He had a grand time. And got waaaaaay too many sweets. That’s him as the fireman.

The president and our friends invited us to stay for the party afterward and it was nice, just sitting back and seeing the kid be a kid.

Although, to be fair, I did eat my fill of shrimp, pasta, and sausage and peppers.

The ABFF also invited us to go hang out with them like last year and I had some invites to things as well but I was too wrapped up in all the madness to do much beyond just let the kid play and try to be present for him.

Maybe next year, I’ll do something for myself.

It’s been ages since I went out for Halloween.

Location: my couch, with an empty bottle of rum on the table
Mood: concerned
Music: a sweet load of sugar-coated cherry pie (Spotify)
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Crashing the party, Pt 2

Making new friends

So, there we are, two-and-a-half hours early to this birthday party and we’re just out at the park next to Chelsea Piers. I feel awful that I screwed the time up so badly for this kid.

Luckily, I had a cream cheese bagel and several oranges with me, so I give him that so at least he’s not hungry.

That killed ten minutes.

Me: Should we go home?
Him: (getting up and walking away) Nah. I’ll make some new friends.

And he does.

He literally crashes another – complete stranger’s – birthday party and becomes the most popular kid there.

This is him in the middle of the party playing with a ball.

Later on, he convinces the birthday boy to climb a tree with him and then the entire party of kids are up in this tree, singing Encanto songs.

He spends the time hanging out with them – and hanging off branches of that tree – and is soon literally leading them around the park with alla these rando ideas he has.

My buddy Steele wrote me…

When it was finally time for the party, I asked the kid…

Me: Do you want to get that kid’s number?
Him: Nah, let’s go to the party.

We do and he has a blast – 42 kids and twice that number of parents were there.

There was a plate of sandwiches there and I ate six of them because I gave the kid all the food earlier.

Him: You’re eating the tuna fish? You don’t think that’s a bad idea?
Me: (shaking head) I trust the system.

Of course, the kid sat next to the birthday girl.

Later on, we head to a much smaller party with just the family. I felt honored we were invited.

Me: Mind if I have a cup of water?
Her: Oh, just help yourself. Cups are there, you know that. You’re family!

Good friends are gold, really.

Me: (leaving late at night) Did you have a fun day?
Him: (sleepily) Yes, papa. Can I go to sleep now?
Me: (nodding)

Long story, but I was chatting with a girl we’ll call the Aerialist, who is different from the Acrobat, I know, my life is very strange – she’s really a builderer but that word just sounds weird.

Her: [This is] the most expensive gin and soda I’ve ever purchased.
Me: Well, now you have to tell me how much.
Her: $21, $25 with tip.
Me: Jesus Christ, did you get a massage with that?

She left today in a rainstorm for a trip to Spain and it got me thinking of when I was last there. A decade ago.

Also thought of the Pretty Cake Decorator for the first time in years. This was one of her favourite songs. Told her we’d take a holiday in Spain one day. We never did.

She married the guy after me; they have two cute kids now. I was happy she found her person.

Everything seems like lifetimes ago.

Suppose it all was.

Location: my pad, cancelling another date because I found a mouse in my house
Mood: still annoyed with these hives
Music: Man, it’s a miracle that she’s not living up in a tree (Spotify)
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Crashing the party, Pt 1

A walk down my memory

The problem I have with dating is that it’s totally binary for me. Either I don’t date – at all – or I have eight dates in a week. There’s no middle ground.

This is not sustainable.

Her: Where were you?
Me: I left after 20 minutes.
Her: You left?! Who does that?
Me: Me. Being, admittedly, very pretty is no excuse for being rude. And pretty girls are a dime-a-dozen. Lose my number, please? Good luck with life.

On a different note entirely, the boy’s a social animal himself.

We’re not the same, he and I.

I taught myself how to be social, never having friends as a kid. My son, though, he’s a complete natural. But lemme back up a bit first…

We start out the day at a picnic at a playground where I catch a shot of the rainbow you see above.

Then we go to my gym for a quick spell, not much to say there.

Not from that day/night but this is a fun pic.

After the gym, he and I head off to another birthday party for the Surgeon’s kid at Chelsea Piers but it’s a gorgeous day, so we walk.

Ended up walking past the Maritime Hotel, which is where Alison and I had our first real date. I wrote about it here.

I met the girl that lost her fella there as well.

Never told you that she was the coke girl. She was 22 then and dealing with the loss of the man she loved, hence the drugs and alcohol. And me in her life.

Don’t think she’s ever recovered from that loss. But that’s her story, not mine.

I get it now, though.

Me: (staring at the Maritime Hotel) I went on a date with the prettiest girl here.
Him: Mommy?
Me: (nodding) Yeah. Mommy.

He wanted to walk along the Highline so we did. The last time I was there, I was with Alison as well.

But, let’s not go down this route. Alison and loss, that is.

In any case, the Highline was packed. We went about three blocks on it before…

Me: There are too many people here and we’re close. Let’s get off this ride?
Him: OK!

Here’s the thing, I totally messed up the time and arrived at Chelsea Piers two-and-a-half-hours early.

Him: Papa!
Me: (apologetically) I know, I know, I know. My memory is swiss cheese these days.

For any other kid, this woulda been a problem, but not my bright-eyed, bushy tailed kid.

But, it’s getting late and I gotta get off this ride.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: in my head, the Maritime Hotel
Mood: (still) super annoyed by these goddamn hives
Music: They don’t got a pill for this (Spotify)
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A Birthday at Carmine’s

Still crazy

Me: What is that? (pointing at menu)
Waiter: It’s a pina colada…with gin.
Me: God, that sounds disgusting. Is it any good?
Him: I wouldn’t drink it.
Me: OK, how’s about we get me that, but with rum. Like a real American.
Him: Good choice.

The NFL Player had a major birthday recently and invited me and Chad to help celebrate so we went.

It was at a restaurant that’s walking distance in my hood but, in close to 30 years, I never stepped in – Carmine’s on the UWS.

He invited me to bring the kid but it was a school night so Pez grabbed him after an hour.

But not before he ate his fill of cheesy garlic bread…

…regular garlic bread…

…regular bread…

…and pasta.

Me: You can’t just eat carbs all night.
Him: I’m gonna have dessert.
Me: I think you’re not understanding what carbs are, kid.

Seafood was not his thing…

…but it was definitely mine.

Him: (grimacing) What was that?
Me: Calamari. Squid.
Him: That’s a fish!
Me: Technically, not at all, kiddo.

The dessert was enormous – a huge banana split ice cream over cake. And there was another full cake, coconut cake.

I admit that I had some of both. This was not a good week for me, diet-wise, as you’ll soon see.

In any case, after it was all over, took a walk towards my pad with one of the fellas there who’s in charge of a 200-unit condo in the hood.

Him: [Being on the condo board] was exactly as you said, long hours, little pay, and plenty of crazy people.
Me: Yup. I keep hoping to get fired but then my building would explode.

It was nice to be invited out to be a tourist in my own city. Kinda spent the whole week doing things like that but I’ll tell you more about that this week as well.

Her: How’s your head?
Me: Still crazy.
Her: (laughing) No, I meant after getting hit.
Me: (nodding) So did I.

Location: earlier today, running up West End Avenue, telling the kid and his friend to wait for me
Mood: super annoyed by these hives
Music: I ain’t no fool for love songs that whisper in my ears (Spotify)
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Still ever the skillest and killest, Pt 3

An awful gift

It’s funny, when I first met Mouse, she was arm-wrestling a girl in yet another bar. At least, that’s one of the earliest entries where I introduced her to you for the first time.

In any case, she ended up arm-wrestling another girl at Pac’s bday at Solas as well. She won.

After I had my little outdoor escapade with the woman from the bar, I went back to Solas but when I returned, mosta my friends had left.

Since I knew the bouncers, they just waved me and I quickly – well, as quickly as I could considering how snockered I was – went up to where we were all sitting because I remembered I left my camera at the table in our room.

Shockingly, it was still there.

New York’ll still surprise you from time-to-time, I think.

I’d just left and wanted to eat so I wandered around looking for food. This worked out because I ran into Mouse outside on the street.

She was stone cold sober because she was driving the old whip.

Asked her if she’d be willing to give me a lift to the station cause it was super late and she – hesitatingly – obliged.

Figure she could tell I was two sheets to the wind. She’s one of the few that can since I don’t turn red and I don’t act much different to most people.

It was nice being in the whip again; I thought of her and my dad and tried to remember if they met. They didn’t.

It was a short drive – just from 9th and 2nd to 14th and 7th. But along the way, she asked me something that sobered me up right fast.

Her: When we were together, you wanted to die. You were suicidal. But then…you said that you would stay for the boy. (pause) I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t live for me.

Our past conversations were always arguments, always. Lots of yelling and finger-pointing. And anger.

So much anger, from both of us.

This time, though, the way she said it – simply and plainly, no anger, no bitterness, just…simply and resigned – cut through my intoxicated brain.

If I had a space to crawl into to hide, man, I woulda.

Me: (struggling) I don’t know. I was really messed up then. (sighing) I’m so sorry for everything.

She countered – calmly again – that she was often in physical and  emotional pain when we were together. Yet she still helped me – and the kid – despite her own pain. Instead of doing the same and helping her, I was trying to think of ways to kill myself.

The bad thing about being able to forget things is that when you remember them, it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time. I saw exactly the moment she brought up, as if I was watching it unfold for the first time.

Like Athena in Zeus’s head, that memory grew and, like Zeus, if I coulda, I woulda grabbed a hammer to bash it out.

Honestly, I woulda much preferred she screamed at me. Much.

She pulled up to the station, I stepped out, and she drove away.

Wish I could tell you I said something terribly charming or clever before I left. But I didn’t. For someone never at a loss for words, there I was.

It’s been four years since we were together. I was sleepwalking through life when I met her. Wish I found a way to wake up before she left.

Then again, I wish a lotta things.

I’m still ever the skillest and killest with my deadly weapons and I’m always armed and dangerous.

It’s a truly awful gift.

Him: (out of the blue) I wish I had a sibling.
Me: What?! (deep breath) I’m sorry, kid. I…
Him: It’s ok, papa. I just wish…
Me: (interrupting) I know. We wish a lotta things. I wish that too.

Location: on 79th Street, trying to explain why to him
Mood:
Music: you want nothing in return, I feel guilty (Spotify)
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Still ever the skillest and killest, Pt 2

It’s my life that’s funny

It was Pac’s birthday the other night and he wanted to have something at Solas, as our usual tradition, so I set it up.

Coincidentally, the following picture showed up on my feed on FB the same day.

Again, there’s been a ton of weird coincidences around me lately, although, really, it was for his birthday four years ago, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Mouse was going to be there this year as well. We’ve not communicated in a while. It’s funny because she and I were two totally different people when that picture was taken.

The moment I arrived, shots were being passed around. The joint was packed – even Tom from Scenic Fights and Katrina showed up.

Pac was having a grand time from the moment he arrived to the moment he stumbled out the door home.

Early on, was able to take some clear pics…

…but, as the night went on, my pics got worse and worse because there was alcohol everywhere…

…so my pics started ending up like this.

Seriously, everywhere.

Met a woman named Jenna at the bar who wanted to come into Pac’s (private) party but I felt that would be rude to Mouse so I told her she couldn’t.

Besides…

Her: …26. You?
Me: (laughing)
Her: (laughing as well) What’s so funny?
Me: My life, darling. Lovely meeting you, reallly.

But there was also a dude that was pestering me all night – I tried to hint that I wasn’t gay – but he kept randomly showing up until Mouse brought him over to sit with us, so I had to leave.

This is Katrina, who is NOT the girl I’m talking about below – and whoever took this shot was way drunker than I.

A lotta of the night was blur. At one point I was outside with another drunk woman who had to pee. Like, right then and there.

Me: We can go back to Solas, you know.
Her: I’m going right here, between the cars.
Me: Wait, what?! (she does so) Welp, this is a new level I’ve unlocked. (later) I’ll join you. Stand in front of me…

In my defense, she had lovely eyes, I had a lot to drink, and she was very convincing.

There’s more but this is getting long and I’m writing it on a train pulling into Penn Station, so I’ll continue it later on this week.

Location: on a train just outside Plainfield, NJ, writing this and tomorrow’s entry
Mood: guilty
Music: should have fallen out of love with you by now (Spotify)
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Old lions

Parenting’s hard

Before I went out with RE Mike, I picked up the kid from school and he wasn’t his usual indefatigably happy self because of his black eye.

Him: Some of the kids were making fun of me. (sadly) They called me hamburger face. I didn’t like that. I asked them to stop but they didn’t. (sighs)
Me: You can’t control what other kids do or say, but you can control how you react to these things. Do you know their names?
Him: No.
Me: People that you don’t know that are mean shouldn’t matter to you. Don’t care so much about people and things that don’t matter. Now, go play.
Her: (woman overhearing my conversation after he ran off) That was really good advice.
Me: Thanks. Parenting’s hard, isn’t it?
Her (nodding) So hard.

If you don’t have a kid, it’s difficult to explain how much it wears on a parent to have a sad kid; and this kid is rarely sad.

But when he is, I’m bummed all day.

While I was out with RE Mike, I mentioned the fact that I studied weapons fighting for just about as long as we’ve known each other.

He was totally shocked because I never once mentioned it.

It’s funny, people think that because I have a blog, my life’s an open book. In many ways, it is. But I also keep a lotta secrets.

There’s so much of my life I’ve not told you and I don’t think you’d believe if I told you anywho.

After all, some secrets are (quite) good and some are (quite) bad, but all are special things.

The next morning, he texted me the following – the link is to Scenic Fights:

Anywho, after I picked the boy up late from RE Mike’s pad, we took the long walk to the west side to grab the train home.

Him: I’m scared.
Me: Why?
Him: It’s so dark and people are so loud.
Me: It’s fine, you’re with me and I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.
Him: You’re not scared?
Me: Everyone’s scared sometimes. But I’m not right now. Because these people are all like sheep, or – at most – like wolves, and papa’s neither.
Him: What are you then?
Me: (laughing) Uncle Pac thinks papa’s an old lion. That sounds about right. And lions – even old ones – aren’t afraid of sheep or wolves.

Although, to be fair, I’m like a weird old lion…

Location: West 77th and Columbus on a conference call trying to sound cavalier
Mood: parental
Music: devil’s on my shoulder stirring up trouble (Spotify)
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Two unexpected silent dance parties

He’s in second grade

Think I’ve been to one silent dance party – where people dancing wear headphones to music by a DJ, but spectators generally don’t – in my life up until about a week ago.

Then I went to two within a week or so.

The first was when I went to the biergarten last week, which I didn’t know would be happening but my buddy Katrina did…

…and the second with another friend when we went to get burgers and beers around the way…

…and we ended up staying so long that it became yet another outdoor silent dance party – again, I didn’t know that this would be happening at all.

Or, rather, the food took so long that the whole thing became yet another outdoor silent dance party.

Think that’s the coolest thing about living in New York City, though; you can go out for one activity (dinner/drinks) and end up in a completely different activity (dancing/singing) with zero effort.

Check that: The weirdest/coolest thing about the night was that this fella walked up to me and asked, Excuse me, do you have a YouTube channel?

It was actually the second guy in two days to recognize me. I’ll tell you about the first one later.

Pretty flattering, I gotta say.

Her: (after) I think his friends were encouraging him to talk to you.
Me: That’s so funny.
Her: You’re a celebrity!
Me: (laughing) A D-list YouTube celebrity, but yes.

I’ve got a buncha smart devices all over our pad and, when the boy’s here, he generally wakes me up by saying, Papa, good morning! It’s time to wake up.

Well, one day when he was away, I woke up to that same sentence. (!?)

For a moment, I wonder if I’d somehow forgotten that I’d picked him up and leapt out of bed to see if he was in his room. He wasn’t.

It turns out that he figured out how to log into the family account on his tablet and made an announcement. From his grandparents’ home in NJ.

He’s definitely gonna be a handful as he gets older.

In any case, I picked him up for real last week and the pad is noticeably more joyous now.

He just started second grade. Isn’t that a kick in the head?

Him: Papa, good morning! It’s time to wake up.
Me: (groggily) Five more minutes…
Him: That’s what you always say!
Me: Because I always need five more minutes, kid.

Location: this morning, pancake brekkie with my favourite little human
Mood: tired, but oh so happy
Music: You’re my little piece of summertime (Spotify)
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A Bohemian Biergarten Bday

I joke that this is how most people react when I arrive places.

Great skin

The thing about Scenic Fights is that I actually like alla the people involved in its production.

And there are a lotta people involved in it; I think you’d be surprised if you actually saw the entire crew. I suppose that’s why it looks so polished.

In any case, Tom is the main cameraman and he turned 30 this past weekend so, after the gym one night, I went to Astoria to the oldest biergarten in New York to celebrate.

The last one I’d gone to was with my college friends but I actually came to this one with other friends from my gym a while back. This time, I went with my friend, Katrina, from my current gym.

Me: (at the gym) Wait, what on earth is in your bag, lady?!
Her: Broccoli. What?! I needed to get groceries.
Me: OK, you’ll need to stay 10 feet behind me at all times.
Her: Are you serious?
Me: Kinda.

The train took forever to get there so we just chatted. One thing I learned about her is that she has 200,597 unread emails.

Me: How is that even possible?
Her: Well, a lot of them are junk mail and…
Me: (interrupting) Jesus Christ, I don’t even know where to start. First of all…

Getting back to her groceries, once we got to the joint, the guy at the door wouldn’t let us in.

Him: No outside food.
Me: It’s groceries, man.
Him: No outside food.
Me: It’s raw broccoli! Trust me, we’re not gonna be whipping this out to eat in a bar.

He was grumpy but ultimately let us in.

I would totally whip that out and eat it in a bar.

Immediately bumped into Tom’s best friend, who works for Scenic Fights as well, as soon as I walked in.

Me: Which group is ours?
Him: This whole section is ours; all of these tables are for Tom.
Me: Whoa, we own this joint.

I was starving so the first order of business was buying some fries and a kielbasa plus drinks for me and Katrina.

In terms of just the food, this is what $19 will buy you in NYC.

For serious.

For some reason, I was in the mood for a cranberry vodka but she wanted the hard seltzer.

Me: Can I try that?
Her: Sure.
Me: Oh, that’s pretty good. I’ll have that later.

After we had gotten some food into us, we started to relax and socialize.

Tom’s super tall so I always joke for him to not be taller than me. He obliged, as the good friend he is.

Him: Honestly, there are a lot of drawbacks to being tall.
Me: Oh, yes, tell the old, short Chinese man how awful it is to be 30, white, and tall in America.

Also met his girlfriend and another buddy’s wife. After a while, they started offering to set me up with their friends, which I found both funny and flattering.

Girl1: What about her? (shows me her phone)
Me: Super cute. How old is she?
Girl1: 27.
Me: Oh, man…
Girl2: Wait, here’s my best friend. You’d love her.
Me: Also super cute. How old is she?
Girl3: Younger! 26.
Me: Wait, [that’s the wrong direction] how old do you think I am?
Girl2: I dunno. 33?!
Me: (to friend) MARRY THIS GIRL! (to her) You are my favourite person at this table. The rest of you can go pound sand.

Tom’s girlfriend and another girl took my phone because they wanted to give me suggestions on my dating profile.

Me: Anything you don’t like?
Her: Honestly, that’s a really good profile and good picture choices. And you’re lawyer? I thought you were a martial arts teacher.
Me: Ivy-league educated lawyer. And you should see me cook, lady.

Tom sat at another table with some other people, and motioned me over.

Him: Come meet some of your fans, Logan.
Me: Wait, my mom’s here?

The people at the table also thought I was about 33 and when I told them how old I was, two women immediately asked me what my skin care regime was.

Me: I dunno. I stay outta the sun and eat mostly protein, fat, and fiber.
Her: You don’t moisturize?
Me: No. I’m a dude.

Now that I think about it, women that find out my age generally ask me my skin care regime. I should have a better answer.

In any case, Katrina and I stayed out pretty late. There’s a funny(ish) silent dance party video I need to dig up to show you.

Now, I have an app that tells me when the next train is and it turned out that that one was coming in 5 mins and the next one was gonna be 23 minutes later so we made a mad dash for the station.

Me: (running, then stopping) Dammit, I dropped your broccoli. Again, who buys…
Her: (running) NOT NOW, LOGAN! LET’S GO!

It was a fun night and nice group of people. But the kid’s back soon, so I’ll be back to daddy duty this week.

Which is fine, cause I miss him like crazy.

Location: Penn Station, yesterday, off to go get my treasure
Mood: happy
Music: I’m starting to forget all of the ridges of your spine (Spotify)
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