Notes: Updates and Edits

King Smurf will not open. Negotiations and purchase fell through due to much ill will and lack of new cash when the price changed (maybe more than once). Mr E. is still there.

Bad Moon, Good Dreams and the Summers End Pt.2: The Hurricane: the ladies room has been repaired at 'the Game' and operations have resumed as normal. (If you want to call operations normal) Yaega Lee has yet to be seen again in a skirt although some women have inquired about seeing guys in kilt on St. Patrick's Day. (Good Luck with that)

Bad Moon, Good Dreams and the Summers End Pt.1: Reports that the pervert in this blog had been sodomized in Suffolk County Jail are false and absolutely erroneous. Other reports of new same sex relationships as a result of his incarceration cannot be confirmed or denied.

Candy was erroneously portrayed as a 'damsel in distress'. The real reasons for this portrayal had been changed to protect the guilty from prosecution and the innocent from persecution. Ownership of leather strapping, meat hooks, nylon rope and duct tape is legal in New York State.

Sexting & Scandal: In this blog entry back in July it was reported that "sexting among teens was a world wide fad." We can now report that it is now happening among adults as old as 70 when a man in an assisted living community is alleged to have got photos of Tina Turner on his cell phone. He was trying to dial 911 at the time.

"G" is now practicing fortune telling on the weekends at the neighborhood bar in North Baldwin. All you need is a large sum of money, a car with a big trunk and a written promise signed in blood to do a 'favor' for her every once in a while.

This concludes updates and edits.

…Will It Soon Be Time To Party Like Its 1969?

This is An Informational Blog Post. The information contained therein is not fictional and is verifiable.

The specter of the AIDS virus has changed sex habits since it was discovered in 1981.

Since Michael Gottlieb first reported it in in the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report for June 5^th, 1981 (a report generated for and by the CDC) people have been aware that their freaky lifestyles could cost them their lives and have changed sex habits, practices and protection in the 30 years since.

Two days ago on the 19^th of September, Mail Online reported in an article by Laurie Whitwell that “Videogame players have solved a molecular puzzle that stumped scientists for years and could hold the key to finding a cure for AIDS.” (Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2039012/AIDS-cure-Gamers-solve-puzzle-stumped-scientists-years.html#ixzz1YZ9nq5DX)But two recent discoveries will soon change the death sentence imposed by AIDS into a thing of the past, like smallpox, polio and the bubonic plague.

Without getting too technical the gamers figured out an enzyme riddle that was a roadblock to figuring out how AIDS attacked the immune system.

The gamers found out what the problems were and reported them to the inventor of the ‘biogame’ “Firas Khatib, a biochemist at the University of Washington, the institution which invented the game, told MSNBC. Mr Khatib is the lead author of a research paper on the project, published on Sunday by Nature Structural & Molecular Biology, which credits the gamers, mainly non-biologists, for the breakthrough.”

Yesterday, on the 20^th of September 2011, Truthdig.com reported in an article “SCIENTISTS DISCOVER IMMUNE MOLECULE TO LEAD AIDS VACCINE TRIALS” . “AIDS vaccine developers said they are cautiously optimistic after a conference this week in Bangkok, where scientists reported molecular observations from the first-ever successful trial of an HIV vaccine on humans that could change the way future vaccines attack the retrovirus.”

(http://www.truthdig.com/eartotheground/item/scientists_discover_immune_molecule_to_lead_aids_vaccine_trials_20110920/?ln)

Several institutions including the Mahidol University in Bangkok and U.S. Military HIV Research program in Washington D.C. are checking the study participants to see why the vaccines that have been used in experiments worked on a major portion of those with AIDS and attempting to put together a battery of vaccines that will work. The article in Truthdig notes that a vaccine for all is still some time in coming, but it is coming.

If a cure can be found for this 20^th century plague, it will mean a change in the way that sexuality is currently viewed and practiced not just in the United States but around the world. The stigma of AIDS will have been broken and we can concentrate on old STD’s like syphilis and gonorrhea which are making a big time come back especially with black and Hispanic gay men.

Don’t put away your condoms, creams, IUD’s and birth control pills just yet. But teenagers in the late half of this decade could be free of the AIDS scare and fuck like its 1969. The thing is those in their 40’s, 50’s and 60’s will probably be doing the same thing. Check out the articles and let me know what you think about this.

RJ

Richie The Rat: Reposted for 9-11 Observance

The incidents in this blog post are true and are a fisthand account from a fireman who was a first responder on 9-11. The names are of course changed to respect the privacy of that firefighter.

“’Mrs. K…’, we regret to inform you that your husband ‘Lt. K…’ Brooklyn Division 15, who responded to the Mariott Hotel today 11 Sept 2001, has died a as a result of a floor collapse at the Mariott while saving many patrons at the hotel….we are so sorry.” “Hell No, not Richie, go back and bring me his body, when I see him dead I’ll believe you” said Mrs. K…” It was early afternoon, smoke billowed and the Mariott still burned.

“Rescue one five do you copy over”…as he struggled to fight his way from under the debris that had come down on him after saving a few of the hotel patrons from certain death, Fireman ‘Richie the Rat’ (nickname given for crawling into and out of anything) got to a window. Through the choking stench of burning flesh and furniture Richie waited at the gaping hole that was a hotel picture window. His oxygen tank was empty.

When the ladder came down on the window it came down on top of him while flames followed him to the open air of that same window. As he was pulled out from the burning wreckage his fellow firefighters cheered and cried, one of his crew said, “you can’t kill a rat, and that rat bastard proved it.”

Richie called his wife, “Honey, I’m all right”, Mrs. K… slowly responded, “did you think that hearing you were dead would get you off my shit list? Get your ass home!” I last saw Richie in 2003 after my Dad had died. I last saw him after the doors closed on the ‘Firehouse Pub’ in Oceanside. Richie was a basket case, he still could fight fire and save lives, its everyday life he had a problem with, Richie was always crazy, 9/11 made him even crazier. Alcohol made it feel better (as usual).

I had always asked around, checking with folks that Richie and I knew in common over the years, no one heard from him, no one saw him. I concluded about a year ago that he was killed off or had died and no one told me. Wednesday Night, I came out in the rain to meet with Candy at‘On the Rocks’ for a drink and to catch up on life. (Candy’s doing O.K. and still keeps me on edge).

It was nearing about 10:00 and I wanted to get going as the rain came down. The bar was full of rowdy loud-mouthed assholes that started playing ‘rap’ and crap. Then out of the dimly lit bar came a shout above the din of voices and music. “Oh Shit, I thought they got rid of you! It’s been what…5 – 10 years. You non hacking son of a gun, you forgot who I am didn’t you?”
I nearly spilled my beer as I looked at this grey bearded mid 50’s guy who’s eyes were on fire.

“RICHIE, THAT CAN’T BE YOU!” I walked over to him to make sure I wasn’t I looking at a ghost or under the influence of a hallucinogen. I hugged the man and laughed uncontrollably, it was like finding a long lost brother or a partner in crime, and sure enough it was “Richie the Rat.” “You still look the same, you look good, the years haven’t punked you yet RJ.” “You look like a Confederate General Richie, were the hell you been hiding?”

“I’ve been getting my head back together. They retired me you know…they said that I’ve gone crazy.” ‘They didn’t know that when they hired you.’ Richie’s voice trembled, “RJ I went back to work but nothing was the same. I tried to talk about my buddies who are still down there in the wreckage, tell the brass what my buddies been telling me for the last few years. Even though they’re bodies in the wreckage they tell me about the Mariott, they tell me they came back for me.”

Candy looked at him with both compassion and understanding, and the look of absolute belief in every word the Rat was saying. “The Brass sent me to see several shrinks, all of them slimy cunts needed to be in rubber rooms, not me,….but they said I was anti-social and sociopathic. I don’t know what that really means except that the Chief said it means that I’m totally nuts. They retired me ‘RJ’.” I could hear the sadness and anger in his voice. He was born a fireman.

Richie started talking about his wife, his kids and his grandkids when he lost his chain of thought and started hitting on Candy. “RJ, I moved to South Carolina, I got a whole lotta property out in the sticks and I love it, I got a huge house with at least 4 bedrooms, bring Candy down with you and stay with me a while.” Candy laughed as he continued to describe his property and how much his wife would like to meet her,…. about then I broke out the blackberry and called Bear.

Candy looked at me like she needed a break, so I put him on the phone with Bear. As they swapped insults and proceeded to curse each other out I thought about the old days at the Firehouse Pub, the women we danced with, the bands, the brotherhood of firefighters, cops and sanitation workers who hung out there from afternoon till dawn telling stories, chasing women and drinking. We always had a good time and Richie was always starting something.

“Bear, you stupid fuck, why don’t you come to see me in South Carolina. Bring Star, RJ and Candy with you!” The Rat had the phone to his ear and smiled at Bear’s reply. “Fuck you Bear, I love you Bro...” After Richie got off the phone with Bear he broke out his phone and showed me pictures of his Grandkid. He then remembered something and made a call, “tell Heckle and Jeckle not to mess up my tank…don’t let them near the grandkid got it.”

Richie said “Candy you are so freakin beautiful, if I wasn’t married I’d kidnap your ass right now and take you away with me.” After hearing that Candy got up and left for a cigarette break (I wondered if she was going to come back). I asked Richie the Rat who the hell are Heckle and Jeckle. “My lizards, they talk to me like I’m a fuckin servant, they tell me how they want things arranged, that they own the house, that they’ll screw where they want – they got problems.”

So how are you doing now after all these years Richie, is dealing with the loss of your brother firemen getting any easier? His eyes watered up, “They all still talk to me RJ, they’re all still here, but I do things to help me relax, I put the images I see in my mind on canvas and the wife tells me they don’t look to bad.” ‘Painting on canvas? Let me get this right, you paint?” “Yeah, I do oil painting, I took pictures of some of my paintings.” Richie breaks out his cell phone again to show me photos of his oil paintings.

The paintings, even in the cell phone picts were awesome. Everything from landscapes, birds, people with extreme expressions, the images were provocative, exciting and some were disturbing. “Richie, how long did it take for you to get this good?” “Not long about a month, I could always draw but when I paint I get help from one of the guys.” Some firemen turned art teacher? “No, my bro’s from Brooklyn 15, from 9/11. The Rat got serious, “RJ I hear them, we talk, I listen, and they help me.”

We had a few more beers and I asked Richie how did he like his little backwoods town in South Carolina. “Its great, they love me there. They have a little volunteer fire department and asked my opinion about a few things, they seemed to like what I had to say.” The women down there love me RJ and they are all so damn polite and courteous, I love it.” We talked about the Firehouse Pub, the ladies, the good times and noticed it was going on 1:00 AM.

Candy had snuck back in and was talking to the bartender who had stopped playing rap and headbanging crap and played at least a solid hour of 60’s and 70’s rock and soul. We tallied up and left the bar. Richie rode around with a neighbor while I talked to Candy outside in the rain. As we were taking off Richie came back. “RJ, I can’t find my van, I think someone might have stole it.” Where was the last time you saw the van. Candy told me to call her; I took Richie with me to find his Van.

“RJ, I spent my entire adult life saving peoples lives, running into death and danger, I took care of people, now it seems that God is taking care of me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do from now on, I don’t want to sit still but a lot of my friends say I’m still sick and need time to heal, what do you think.”

‘Man, do what’s on your heart and don’t let anybody marginalize you! You are absolutely crazy but you are the real deal, an American Hero, a veteran NYFD firefighter who served with honor and distinction, don’t let anyone put you down. You were always a hero, 9/11 made everyone in America see that.’ After about 10 minuets we found Richie’s van parked behind the bar. “RJ, e-mail me or call me, don’t fuckin disappear for 5 years.” I hugged him with a heavy heart.

I drove off and played a song by Kansas, I couldn’t get it out of my head after catching up with the Old Rat. The lyrics echoed on “Carry on my wayward son, they’ll be peace when you are done…. lay your weary head to rest…. don’t you cry no more.”

Originally posted in June 2008 (1762Broadway.blogspot.com).

America is not the same as it was before 9-11 in many ways, we are better because of the sacrifice of heroes proved and souls lost just because they are AMERICAN.

Freedom is not free, and you can talk your trash and live the way you want because someone paid your way with their life. Never Forget! Stay Vigilant.

RJ

Bad Moon, Good Dreams and the Summers End Pt.2: The Hurricane

As I spent my last money, on gasoline, (three 5 gallon cans) I hoped that CK’s generator would start and work as well as mine did. So I asked my brother did he start his generator, he said “RJ don’t worry ‘bout it…I can start it”.

After paying me some money he owed me I wasn’t so broke anymore. It was Saturday night, August 27^th about 8:00. The wind and rain from Hurricane Irene was on its way bringing tornadoes along with wind driven rain and flooding.

The house was stocked with water and all emergency precautions, first aid and other setups had been taken care of. I was awake all night, CK was sound asleep and didn’t wake up until late Sunday morning. Although brown outs did occur briefly several times during the night, the power stayed on. By Sunday afternoon the worst of the Storm had passed when I got a call from Yaega that the bar was open but they had no lights.

I asked her what Poppy was doing to get her some electricity or ice to run the bar, Yaega said, “I haven’t seen him and he won’t return my calls”. I said ‘good luck’ and got off the phone. Later Sunday night I did venture out to visit Yaega and see how she was holding up. Cops, LIPA trucks and Tree Service crews were on the main roads and up some secondary roads dealing with downed trees and darkened neighborhoods. Arriving at the ‘Game’ was eerie.

Pitch darkness pierced by my headlights revealed Slim with a few of his lady friends in the back smoking. As I went in, Yaega was lugging the last bags of ice and putting them in coolers, I knew I wasn’t staying long because I knew I could watch football at home…we had lights and cable. Bossman (Deli Owner) and his cadre of gaming buddies were in the bar with a radio and a few decks of cards (storm entertainment huh?). Everybody was kind of on edge.

I at first thought it was the black out in the neighborhood. It was dark on Merrick Rd. from the car dealership across from the Veterinarian all the way to Central. But there was another kind of uneasiness, like a conspiracy of silence…which could only mean something had happened, but what? As Bossman dealt the cards, I asked Yaega why did portions of the bar smell like simple green and pine sol? “Shut up and relax” said a stressed Yaega as she poured my beer.

“I was relaxed until I got in here” I then noticed the electric candles all over the place and other battery operated devices that where putting out light in various intensities. Mr. Clean discussed hanging a light over the pool table so the patrons could at least entertain themselves but Yaega argued with her man (Mr. Clean) about that. “It’s not like I’m gonna put flaming candles over the pool table woman” said Mr. Clean as Bossman and the bar burst out laughing.

I asked Mr. Clean “what the fuck is going on”. “A candle in the ladies room got a little too hot and set it on fire, thank goodness Bossman was quick with the fire extinguisher” then Mr. Clean looked at Yaega who’s eyes were bugging out as she was jury rigging the cash register to open up since there was no electricity. Someone asked Yaega if she had permission to do that, she said, “I’ll do what the fuck I have to…shut your face and drink or get the hell out.”

I finished my beer, admiring the lights and the weird reflections in the mirrors, I left. Promising Yaega I might be back on Monday if the lights were on. I did come back Monday Night to a near empty establishment. Yaega still was pissed even though the lights were on, Yaega did cheer up because I had a traveling companion with me, Candy.

The Monday after the Hurricane was no less tense than the day of the Hurricane. Candy came over because she had no electricity to charge her essential items and she needed to do things to keep herself ready and able to work. I told her my house was her house, we spent the afternoon together although it was all work and no play. Afterward we visited Yaega. Yaega filled me in on what happened after I left Sunday night.

Yaega took a shot and said, “This place was packed from 10 o’clock on. People who didn’t come in peeked in to see what’s up. The Police asked Slim, who happened to be here, to lift the piece of sheet rock off the drain so the water wouldn’t continue to flood the basement at the pool hall next door. That place is a mess…anyway someone walking by saw me slapping on the register and decided to call the Cops who came back and walked in the bar.”

My eyes were wide open listening for the rest of this story, Yaega continued, “There were two cops the big one said, ‘we got a report of a robbery and drug use in this bar and were here to check it out’. I told the Cops, there is no robbery, I’m the bartender, the register has to be opened manually and I don’t tolerate anything going on in her but drinking. I pointed to the liquor license, and told the Cops this is the way we have to work in a blackout. I invited them to stay for a drink or two and keep us company when they got off duty.”

I asked, “what did they say to that?” Yaega said, “they looked at each other and the big one said, ‘lets go…she’s (Yaega) in charge’”. I looked at Slim who testified to the place ‘being a zoo’ after midnight. As the bar filled up Candy had to get back to her house, I asked if she needed me to go with her and she said, “Love you did enough today, I’ll see you later. I’ll call when I get home.” I stuck around till the end of the football game then gazed at the fire damage in the ladies room.

Two clean cut guys walked in the bar dressed in comfortable clothes all wide eyed and a little suspect of their environment. Yaega smiled, and said, “Glad to see you came back, what can I get you…” I looked at Slim who mouthed ‘POLICE’. It was time for me to go anyway and I needed to blog some of this minus the other tensions and intrigue involving other patrons who were doing their own weirdness at the bar.

Funny how disaster brings people together to engage in more disaster.

RJ