Friday, May 25, 2012

Arbuckle's Lament

Garfield is famous for hating Mondays even though, as it has been noted, he didn't actually have a job. But at least he had a catchphrase. I may have mentioned this before, but I hate Thursdays. Thursdays are like when you've been working your tuchus off all day, and you look at the clock thinking "Is it almost over?" But it's not, there are still two hours to go - and that's assuming you don't have to work on Saturday.

Here is a free tip on how not to be a douche-bag in New York City. If you're moseying down the stairs to the subway taking your own sweet time and there's a train that's about to leave in the station: even though it's not your train, kindly get the fornication out of the way. The people behind you will appreciate it.

Another suggestion on not being a douche-bag that's just for welders: if an electrician is staying late at night on standby for you, the polite thing to do is to tell him you're leaving so he can get out of there ASAP. Just a friendly tip.

ttfn -Tony

Thursday, May 24, 2012


I have over ten gigs of mp3s on my Android. How much can I possibly listen to? I find myself shuffling until I find a song I haven't heard in years (this morning's thrill was The Monkees's "Papa Gene's Blues".)

I've started work on a frame by frame hand-drawn animation. It may take years to finish, but if I do one hour a night, someday it will be done. Oh yeah, there's that short story collection to finish, the final draft of the novel... and um... work.

For the first time in years I'm actually happy on a job. It's during the day at Rock Center instead of the tuchus of some outer borough at night, its not PLA (for the first time in two years,) there's indoor plumbing instead of port-o-potties, but what's most important is that the foreman is a gentleman who treats us right, and that my coworkers are good people. The right work atmosphere makes all the difference. Times have been bad the past few years, and it's made a lot of us bitter and mean. At times this industry has felt like a game of Survivor; let's get this guy booted off the island before us. Then that guy, then that guy...


Wednesday, May 23, 2012


I'm on the bus, listening to the great late Frank Zappa's album "Mothermania." There's a song about singing to and being true to our vegetables. Wonderful stuff.

It's raining. They say we tend to remember our emotions based on our current emotional state: if we're happy, we remember the good times, if we're sad, we remember the bad, if we're angry, we remember when the MTA left us stranded at the ass end of Brooklyn at 1am after working all night, and how it made our stomachs churn with bile when the Q-train never came- but I digress. My point is, my mind works the same way with bad weather. When it's rainy it feels like it's always rainy. And not a cool thunder and lightning storm with layered clouds rain, just an overcast, drizzly but still permeating every pore of your skin down to your bones depressing rain, when the sky is just a featureless sheet of gray.