Friday, August 6, 2010

BLOG#9 A Punk at Heart

Today someone went through the trouble to make a whole new twitter persona just to send me some malware. The sad thing is they sent it to some 4 people. Luckily I have some moderate security. But for the many people that dont, it'll wind up costing them money.
Now I know I can be an asshole sometimes. But the punks that do this shit are the really sad excuses for human beings. First of all I have the right constitutionally to express myself as I see fit. If you don't like profanity then fuck off.Don't read my shit. And after reading some of the most idiotic crap thats veiled as comedy please, get a life. If being real is selling crap or self promotion then you spend too much time in front of the screen. That is the primary beef I have with younger cats today. No substance and way too much bravado. Make a phone call and actually speak with other people. Have sex with an actually breathing person. Not infront of he moniter while watching porn. Finally, go out to eat. Even if it's Burger King. Go out and speak to someone at least once a day. The kid taking your order doesn't count.
A good indication that you're not right in the head is if you tell someone what you did and they aren't laughing along with you. Mommy doesn't count. She's probably been telling you to go out or to get help for some time now.
Just like there are heroes. There are your average joes and janes. From there, there is a step or two down. Then theres you, the punk level. But don't be alarmed, there are two more levels down from there. Those levels are the true demented. Serious mental illness is rock bottom. Try your best to keep from sliding any further into ablivion. You don't need to fall any further. You may never be heroaric in anything you do. But you dont have to suffer in silence anymore. A punk can become a nice person. Or rather, can find social acceptance. There are 12 step programs all over New York that help punks deal with there illness. All you have to do is raise your hand and say "I'm a punk and I need help"! Let me make a call.
Back again, I just found out theres a punk anonymos meeting downtown in the village. Its in the back room of One Potatoe, Two Potatoe. 742 Bichas ave off of Greenwich ave. & little W.12 st.
See, you're already on the road to recovery. Even I want to help you. Theres nothing wrong with being a punk. Only not doing something about it is a problem. Well good luck with your recovery.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

BLOG#8 Snitches get Stitches

Fuck it. Children and bitches should not be reading this. New York truths is an adult topic. Your kids should be better fuckin supervised.
Jesus Morales
is as common a name as Tom fucking Jones. But this scum sucking bastard took a vow in prison cause he needed fucking protection from getting that pretty ass of his rimmed while he was up at Clinton-Danamora State Prison. When you're there you are no longer in Kansas Dorthy!
Whatever his peripheral involvement he caught a body at 17. He more then likely played chicky on a burn and the motherfucker took his last breath behind some over zealous asshole. That is why you never take a piece of work with strangers. Too many over achievers out there and when the shit hits the fan they act out the conditioning of watching too much "48 Hours". Instead of learning "LAWYER" they get it stuck in there stupid minds that it is okay to confess to the cops.
I'm not trying to give you lessons in being a criminal. If you haven't got your head right by now, you are fuckin lost at the gate.
Here is abitch that did 10 years. Now he's been out for 10 years and he's still bragging about the dime he did upstate as though those were the best years of his life. I met the bitch in a methadone program and just know that he was playing a broken record. That and homeboy was still living with his mother. Living home is no issue if you are going through a slump. But if that is your primary then as a man you aint about shit.
The program didnt open until 8am. So if you get there at 6:30am you had to have a hustle! Turns out holmes was getting there early to hang around and find out who was doing what. Then he would turn around and give all this info to the staff. His councelor and the Director. Doesnt take a rocket scientist to put it together. The bitch was a snitch.
Turns out someone put a Gee on him. A $1000. hit. It was a closed contract. He wasnt to be killed. Just stomped out. He was still part of the click and had at least one friend. So, one morning he arrived only to be diverted to the garage area down on Morris ave. It was only a block from the Court house, it might as well have been a hundred miles away. At 6:30am there's no one around. He got stomped out for about 3 minutes. More then enough time to do the job.
For about a week he was hospitalized. Then after another week or so he finally showed up. He had more black and blues then a tattoo. The swelling took a few more weeks to go down. But the point was made. Dont double cross the ones you need. You never know when you need someone on the street.
Luckily for him none of the people he snitched on caught a case. In that case it would have been much worse. Much, much worse. Withen a week of that he was moved to another program site. But by then Word was out! No one would trust those loose lips again. When the word is out about the foul shit you do, Sometimes your better off dead cause you will never gain trust again. And people dont forget.Memories can be long, Very long!!!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

BLOG#7 Smiling Faces

Smiling Faces,sometimes pretend to be your friend. Are the lyrics of an early 70's sond=g that is as relavant today as it was then and for 1000's of years preceeding it release as a song.
I showed my hack license to a friend and someone I know for many years was sitting beside him took the license and then proceeded to memorize m info. I took it back and took the high ground by asking him questions that made him think of answers. First it was difficult but I was able to pull him away from reciting the name over and over in his head. I could actually see the process. Then I made him ingage in a quibble about the price of his van and then I made him add the cost of a gallon of anti freeze per day. What the weekly and monthly cost would be. By the time he finished with my questions he could no longer remember the correct spelling of my name. Had he not pulled out his phone to put my name in I would not have been sure that thats what he was up to.
Then I took the street. Fuck low ground, I told him that low life black hearted people that gossiped and had their noses in other people bussiness and up their asses was the reason I was looking to move from this neighborhood.
This is a guy that I've always treated with respect. Since he's always with his wife I figure he really doesn't have any real friends. And when I look at him critically I gather that there was no good reason for him to get my incidentals. I mean there aint a valid reason in the world the memorize my name, etc. With one son in prison, upstate. Another on the streets panhandling money by pretending to be disable. Wheelchair and all.The third son in the ground and a daughter you never see but has a rep for being good on the computer, I'd say I needed to make that piece of shit get confused before I confronted him. And then blow him and his dumb ass wife a new asshole. I say it plural cause the both of then are so stuck together they probably use the same one to save.
I accept responsibility for being lax about my credentials. But honestly, Who would expect such crap from people that you know for almost 30 years? Anyone who is on the ball! That means me from now on!

Monday, August 2, 2010

Blog#6 You can hear the Bullet

There can be many, many topics. But there is only one truth! I may not have been the first to say it, but I'm the last in a short line to live it.
Many years before the Time Warner building was thought of. Before the Montana block the sunlight on my grandmothers avacado plants on the fire escape. Before high rises cluttered Amsterdam ave. We stood tall on the streets of the upper Westside of Manhattan. Before gentrefication and the Gov't got in bed with the landlords to rid the city by terminating rent control and allowing stabilization to rise so that only those making salaries in the high 5 figures could live in Manhattan. Working class people could actually hold there heads up and walk with pride in their neighborhoods.
The few exceptions are those who have lived in there apartments for over 30 years and still had payable rents. But that small group only stay cause they can't afford to move anywhere else. These poor people often have to endure abuse and harassment by there yuppie neighbors who are angry for having to pay so much more for usually less space.
Back them however was a time when living in the 212, was really being a New Yorker. There were still communities in Manhattan. Now with all the high rises there are really only a few areas that have that flavor that living in areas like the West Village, or Tribeca or Chelsea had.
But living on the Upper Westside was special. Jr. High or middle school was in the area. W77st & Columbus ave. Across from The Museum of Natural History. I'd cut school to go to the museum.Then I went first to Manhattan Voc. Tech. on E96st. for a year. The last 3 yrs. of High School were at H.H. Lehman H.S. in the Bronx. No matter what the day was like I would always rush to get back around the block. There was always something to do or get ready for. Home work, eat, sleep and get up at 11pm. to go dancing at some club down town. I can't even begin to tell you how many times we'd break night and watch the sun come up from a traffic Island on Broadway or from either Riverside or Central Park. And we'd make it to school the next day! It wasn't all about crime, drugs, sex and wildness. Alot of it was cooling out with the fellas. And it became even more fun when the girls were there.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Blog#5

Today I was about to blow a gascett. I seriously wanted to slack anyone of a number of people. Starting withmy mother. My brother came in a close second and then there's a list as long as my arm. I wound up walking away from them all.One at a time I had miner face time with each of them. All lying, all full of shit and my brother just doesn't want to hear anything, no matter how wrong he is. He even said "Yeah, I'll take one" when I asked him if he was going to buy cigarettes?
I walked away and wanted to scream cause its that way with them all. They will take whatever they can get. Forget about any work involved. It's take, take, take. And I'm spent. I'm 50 and these people have sucked me dry emotionally. I don't care, I don't want to hear or know about anything from anyone. It seems as though if I'm gonna save any money I need to move away. Cause I find that I say no about 15 times, just while taking a simple walk. Even the homeless cats try chipping away at me.
All this and I'm hardly rich. What I mean is I'm not by any means living on the lap of luxory. I eat well, have the things that make me comfortable. But, I'm not taking any limos. Or vacationing at the South of France.
I need to stop this bullshit whining grow a set and tell these people to fuck off. They wont give me a dime when I'm busted, So I need to put things in perspective and just say no. Forget about polite. They sure as hell aren't polite. To hell with there feelings.Just like I get my ass up and put in 12 hr. shifts, so can they, and if not it ain't my problem. And fuck it, I'm not here to pay for anyones dope, coke, beer or cigarettes.
In my mind I'm in this lovely place. I feel wonderful. I hold my head high and take deep breaths. I feel like a king. These blogs help me to keep writing, twitter keeps me growing with all the info and stimulus that I get. And on occassion I have dialog with folks. I dont do chat rooms cause I don't need hookers or chicks that are looking to get there bills paid or a plane ticket, etc. Way too much bull.
And more then anything I'm learning. After all the crap I've gone through with my health issues, I'm so happy that it'll all get worked out. I dont need to pay for followers, I don't care about too much more then living well, being happy and being the best me I can be.
Acting, writing, and performance oriented things are what really interest me. I'm a professional actor and thats where I need to keep the focus. That is where I need to be. That is where I want to be.
If I ramble on long enough I usually answer the questions myself. I am an actor, and I should be working. Stardom, fame, things that are all relative. If I give it my all, do my best then it'll all take care of itself!!!

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Blog#4 A Ghost Story

Ever since I was 5 years old I can remember seeing the old men. Men because there were several different old men that I would see as I walked home from school in Brooklyn. They knew I could see them and they would look directly into my eyes.
There was one who scarred me though. This tall, thin, lanky man would look into my eyes and I would see anger. It got so that I would run the block to avoid seeing him. He would stand infront of the Barbershop Doorway.
Over the years I'd see various forms, entities, whatever they're called they were different. I knew not to say anything about them if I didnt want to be viewed an insane.
It was the summer of 1986 and I was at the Old Creamery Theatre in Iowa. At the time it was the only Equity theatre in the state. One night I feel aslleep with the light on. I felt as though someone was in the room and I opened my eyes and there standing above me looking down at me was a man. I lept out of my bed into the corner of the room and I brought my hands up to fight I yelled "Who the fuck are you?" At that moment he imploded. right infront of my eyes he disappeared.
When I asked some of the towns people about it, they told me about the guy who used to live there.They said he had died and that even the way he was dressed, was the way he'd dress. I was never afraid to go back into the room, nor was I ever afraid to sleep there.
What I have always wondered is what they want, what they might have to say? I"ve since had other experiences. The experience in Iowa is the one that always seems to linger.Sleep Well tonight.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Blog#3

I could write countless stories of NYPD abuse that I have experienced both personally and observed. You would think that with all I've been through that I would hate cops. But I dont. Do I dislike the racist Irish Capt. who made a rookoie write me four tickets that I didn't deserve, yes because he is in a position of leadership and abuses his position to give this kind of negative instruction to rookies who will learn the wrong way to be a cop. Some, on the other hand see just how wrong this crappy example of a cop this cat is.
I was dropping off 2 mexicans illegals on E.110st. and Lexington ave and attempting to pick up 2 young white girls that were going to take me back downtown. My cab was at a slight angle, but nothing that would make any difference under normal circumstances. But having this shit cop park his car in the bus stop the bus couldnt pull into the stop. I was talking to the pretty girls and didnt notice that the mexicans weren't getting out of the cab. Had I looked I would have seen the 20 or so rookies. I was told to move up and I did. The bus goes by and around the illegally parked cop car and Im told to pull over and get my fucking tickets. To ad insult to injury the Capt. starts shining his flashlight in my eyes causng 5 or 6 rookies to follow suit. I read this one quickly. The rookies in there hast to kiss the Capt. ass would have pulled me from the car and murdered me if thats what this piece of shit wanted. I could see that he wanted to make an example out of me and I wasnt there for his sick pleasure or ego. At first he wouldnt let me pull over when I asked. I wasnt moving the car cause Ive seen assholes get shot by cops who use there pulling over as an excuse for discharging there guns. When I finally was told to pull over and park I realized that the only reason the bus had a problem was due to his car being parked in the bus stop.
I got out of my cab and took a photo. He walked over and barked "What the fuck are you doing?" I said Officer youre gonna give me a ticket and its your car that was the cause of the problem. With that I was told to get the fuck back in my car and take my fucking tickets
Not only did I get 4 tickets, I was made to wait over an hour for the tickets. I got a Disorderly conduct,Double parking,Obstructing the intersection and Failure to adhere to a Lawful order.All total bullshit. I guess I can equate my tickets to this Captains career as a cop."BULLSHIT"!!!
Anyhow I'm still in the courts with 2 tickets out of the 4. The only reason I didnt file a complaint is that the rookie apologized to me for having to give me these tickets, as well as the whole situation. I dont have the heart to hurt a rookie who has no real option but to follow orders or loose a job that will feed himself and his family.
Maybe I'm a sucker, but I really believe in not harming people.Even if that means that I have to fight a few tickets. That rookie just might be the one who doesnt want to discharge his firearm when he could but really doesnt have too.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Blog#2

I have driven a yellow cab in NYC for the better part of 31 yrs. I have experienced racism both on a personal level and as a spectator. In other words, my passenger after learning that I'm of Puerto Rican decent will go on about it in the back seat as I drive. Straight up and down, I don't give a shit. Just pay the fare.
The only question that I don't like is when a black passenger asks who my worst passengers are? My response is always "Do you really want me to answer that?" Just like this whole big deal in the news about something that happened, and there wound up being some kind of apology. Issues that I go out of my way to avoid.
Frankly after Danny Glover got a cabby fired I'm simply discusted with the bullshit and degree of hypocracy that is allowed to occur right in the media.
Was the driver right? It's been so long that I don't remember all the facts. What I will say that after having been shot at and the bullet passing thru my hair, after having fought with 2, 3, and 4 black assailants I will drive by anyone that gives me a feeling of discomfort.
And to attest to the Taxi and Limosines Commissions respect for your rights, I was found guilty of refusing to take a fare to Brooklyn when infact I was in a Hospital bed for a month with a Pic. line in my left arm as I was receiving antibiotics for a month.I was inpatient at St.Lukes hospital for two weeks and then at the Goldwater rehab for the following two weeks. The TLC fined me $400. and refused to accept the hospital records as evidence. Don't even get me started about the NYPD.
Its both the passengers and other drivers. But at the end of the night I know I did a good job, I may have brought happiness to someone who was down. I've even saved a few lives. Getting lucky isn't always about getting laid. If I manage to be helpful, that is something that means something. Even if it's only to me and the other person. If there is a God and he's all knowing then I'm in good shape. If not, Im still good.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Blog#1

I haven't touched this animal for many days and feel no remorse or sense of lose. It just doesn't matter. I do it for myself. It's like hitting the heavy bag. No, not my fat ex. The leather or canvas bag that hangs off to some corner in the gym. When it's done well you can see the imaginary opponent being hit as he or she swings and moves on the practioner. Done poorly, it looks like a gorilla swinging away at the bag.
When I say "No shame to my game", it is literal. I've drank, smoke and shot it all. Well not all. There is some garbage I wouldn't touch with your dick. Truthfully I'm not a garbage head. And no fucking way in hell was I gonna do shit like use the water out of the toilet. Mind you even I squirm when I have heard some stories. Better I keep it to that I've been around the block a few times. I don't get pumped by making it sound worse then it really was. Ridiculous are those folks who act like there shit don't stink and that they have some kind of permit or get out of jail free card. Poor Lindsey.
I will tell you that I got made love and respect for RD Jr. Homeboy was a straight up man about it all. Then he came out and got to tell them all were to put it! He got to a place where he drew the line. And that was that! I do hope that I never have that experience. Lets face it, I never want to go backwards. But at least I can roll with the punches. I take things as they come and keep on moving. Stuck on stupid is not a good place to be.
No one role defines who you are as a performer.If you allow for that then you and only you are at fault.Like I can only blame myself for my setbacks. That doesnt mean that I have to limit myself to where I can go either. Who is to say where an individual with talent and possibility can take it. Even the great Geraldine Page did Off Broadway. She was a teacher like no other. Her performances touched your heart and filled you in the audience. Even after being rejected by Hollywood she aspired to be herself. All the love, kindness and caring couldn't be stopped by the negativity of others. With role models like her I will reach for the sky. She would say"Reach", and I will!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Blindspot

I have come to realize that I have a defiscieny. There is a part of my psychy that is either underdeveloped or is nonexistent. There are times in my life where I either choose to not see or I can't see what's infront of me. Too often I impress myself with how quick I can get things done. As if speed matters more then a correct and accurate assessment. To be close only counts in horse shoes. So many people lie and or misrepresent themselves that it is virtually impossible to take someone at face value. Then there are those who have been burned and they don't trust anyone.
Even with all the bad experiences I still manage to stay open. I have become quite good at letting the water roll off my back. But each time something happens it seems to take a little piece of me away with it.
Sadly, some people can't change. Some people when given the chance between the truth and a lie will select the lie. Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It becomes preposterous when the individual is beyond retirement years. The age of an elder and the emotional development of a child.
I tell myself that I can't even be disappointed or upset because I should know better. Is it my fault? No! Not at all. I can rationalize that there was a need in me that this situation filled. Important, is to be aware that the time has come for me to move on. If you let yourself be taken for granted you are opening yourself up for abuse. An individual who has self esteem doesn't allow for things to go that far. There is a line that doesn't get crossed. Because I care it is painful. Because I care about myself I know that by going through it I'll grow.
Hardship can either make you jaded and bitter, or make you open to new possibility.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

So, how about LaGuardia?

Early 80's on 11th ave. in the mid 40's. A pimp looking like Huggy Bear, on the real, puts this young girl in the cab. After a few words to her we're off. It was a ride out to Jersey. Out by Ft.Lee. There were alot of cheap motels out there at the time. I don't remember her name, what the fare was, or even the exact motel. What I do remember was that I didnt have much time to talk to this kid. She was young, legal but young. Maybe 18-19yrs old.
I read her like a book, she got off the Greyhound at Times Square, she ran into this guy working the Station looking for girls just like her. Young,wide eyed and impressionable. Within a week she had been raped, beat, brain washed and the posession of this pimp. I could see that she was still cherry, new, fresh. She hadn't yet been completely corrupted by the experience, yet!
I just let out. I pulled out all the stops and attacked everything about this life she was a part of. I ripped apart her pimp, her clothes everything. And then I pulled on her heart strings. How her family missed her.That their love would only give her forgiveness. How she would be welcomed with open arms.
She was in tears,and it hurt me to say this to her but all I knew was that I had to. It was something I had never done before, and to lesser degrees have done a few times since.
We made the right up the ramp toward the bridge, and we stayed right. Right toward the Cross Bronx east to the Bronx River to the Bruckner to the Tri-Borough. Whern we got to La guardia the fare for the cab and a few bucks from me got her to Florida. Miami if I can remember correctly. I know she made it home cause I got a letter. When I pulled it out of the mail box at my Wallace ave. apartment in the Bronx, I knew it was from her. I don't even remember much of the content of the letter, but I always remember looking at the address on the envelope. Yeah, she made it home!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Today

I woke up in White Plains and I was angry at my best friend for what I considered insensativity. Then on the Metro North ride down it hit me that he didnt have any incling of what someone feels like after a fight. It doesnt matter that no one was a complete mess. If you hit, get hit and wrestle around on cement, you wind up bruised and you wind up with aches and pains. nBob is the only person I know who has never been in a fist fight. I don't think he and his brother ever got beyond the disagreeing shove. So how would he know how I feel today.
Asorbate my physical discomfort with the stress of having put down cigarettes and you got a very unpleasant individual. Surprisingly, I was able to take care of things that needed tending too.I need to take a 4 hour class for my Hack lic., it'll be done thursday and then I'll get to my follow-up to the biopsy. I get my results and I'll go from there.
The most incredible thing was that I made it to the ym. I got my lazy ass to the gym and had a good first work out.No, it wasn't easy. I had a hard time but I pushed myself. Anyhow, I'm home and blogging early cause I'm actually considering an early night. If I get my butt to the program and to the gym before mid day perhaps it'll make getting thru the day easier. Who knows? Today isn't over yet. What I do know is I need to get some rest. So, later!

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Guy to Guy

This isnt so much a blog but an impassioned statement made man to man. This isn't the 70's. it isn't a time where permiscuous sex is acceptable. It isn't just HIV, it's so much more. As a stupid young man somewhere I got into me that the # of women mattered. It really doesn't. What really matters is the quality of the relationship you have.Experiencer doesn't just come from the numbers. If you have a loving and receptive partner you can open up and experience all sorts of sexually gratifying exploits. All sorts of different fantasies can come to life. You would be surprised at how much you can do in the heat of passion. As a matter of fact, there is no limit to what you can do with a woman you care about. And when its mutual she could see you walk up and the look on her face would make anyone standing between you move without them being aware of why they'll step back. They just do! It's that powerful!!!

A Hard Honest Look In

Because of whats going on with me, I have no energy. I know I'm strong but I have no energy, no drive, very little follow through. I can sit and type but I have a hard time walking up the hill to the bus. I get winded. I have to stop and take a break.
Part of this is simple. Smoking cigarettes will take your breath. It'll rob me of the very life I have fought so hard to have. What makes it frustrating is that I have done this to me. You further complicate it with whats going on with my thyroid and you got a situation that leaves me drained.
My day started out like any ol' saturday. When I walked over to Cano and the fellas he started talking shit with the he said she said crap. Turns out my pediphile neighbor has been walking around trying to put me into any number of situations that are all untrue and petty. All part of his sick mind. I put a stop to it immediately.You can lie about me but it dont change the truth about you. You're a fucking rapist and a child molester. NOBODY wants you around.Your mouth is gonna get you hurt punk cause only a sick mind would say that a 12 year old wants to get fucked in the ass.You can argue all you want but you're nothing but a fucking lier. Then he tried to argue and as I walked away I told him to use his 50k when he needs to eat.
I have a great memory and I thank my stars that I dont hold onto things for long periods of time.You need to let things go, but you need to remember because its said that "Those who forget are bound to repeat".That by the way is something thats said in 12 step meetings, but has been around along time ago.
The end of my evening was far from uneventful.I went to visit a woman that I see once in awhile. She had company. She actually wanted me to wait while she took care of some other cat. Not only did I bounce, I deleted the contact info.When a broad like that tries to put you in the box it's up to you to stay or go The finally of the nite came with a guy saying I'm lucky my brothers alive. I may not be close to him but I'm not gonna let you tell me how you're gonna hurt him.Bottom line I got hit two times. I hit him three good shots but I just cant go. I dont have the energy.I couldnt breath either We did wrestle around but this other fucking guy keep getting in my way. I yelled at him to let my fucking go, it was like fighting two fucking guys.
I finally just walked away. I couldnt even breath. I've gotten so used to looking at this good looking guy in the mirror and good looks have shit to do with throwing down.
When your involved in serious training you dont have time to waste.Not with fighting, arguing, not with others who are unfocused. The committment is wholehearted, theres no half steppingt!The immediate benefits are health. The secondary are how it fills the other areas of your life. I know it aint gonna be easy, but what in life that worth having comes easy!!!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Strength from Compassion

     Sometimes alittle compassion and understanding makes the difference in life.On the way home tonight I was surprised to see Sweetness. She was sitting on a milk crate and with this intense heat was in a serious nod. Her insesant nose rubbing was a clear sign that see had done a bag or two of dope. Now, since I know her I know that alcohol is a curtainty. She either had beer or some cheap booze. She has dropped 30lbs. in less then four months. Her thin,gaunt ,frail look is part of the wasting away process of A.I.D.S. She has been infected for some 20 years. Her man, Roy Boy is on Rikers Island. He's doing a skid bid. He'll get released with good behavior in less then 2 months.Roy got infected by having unprotected sex with her despite being fully aware that she was H.I.V. positive. She told him that she was infected and his claim to loving her was that if she had it so would he. And the really wild thing is that thru thick and thin. Thru all kinds of fights, arrest, homelessness, you name it, they have stayed together.
     Way back when see was a fine young lady. Pot and a beer made due. Then with the influx of Crack, thats all she wrote. It quickly went to hoein' for $5. Condoms dont fit into the budget of a $5. hooker. The shear arrogance and stupidity of the johns pretty much gets them what they deserve. Very little sympathy and whatever disease he winds up with.One thing for sure AIDS info was widely displayed by the late 80's.
     I know that see is presently undomicile and in the past I've helped. Sometimes though you got to let things take there course. When I can I always make sure they get something to eat, food is something you don't deny anyone! And I can always come up with carefare, always. I do what I can, when I can.
     The inside joke between my friends and myself is that if their were a executive class arrangement in seating to Heaven, I'd be there. But because I see things for what they are, I'll settle for a few moments of feeling that I might have made a difference. You do feel good. And thats for me.
     Don't believe for a second that that shit, being good, will come back at you. Thats the biggest crock of shit that there is. You do it from the kindness of your heart. And thats it!
     When you live in an area for any length of time you get to know people, hard luck stories and all! Alittle compassion will bring you alot of love and respect. That is your strength!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Cold Truth

     If you've ever spent a few hours walking around in the freezing cold with less then $20. in your pocket and your stomach is growling from emptiness. Then you know hunger, you know the pain from the cold attacking all exposed areas of your body. Amplify that with not having a safe warm place to lay your head for the night and despair, depression and hopelessness come to a head, fast!
     I was uptown on E.93 st.&; Madison ave. hoping to run into Luis the superintendent. I waited hoping to accidently run into him. Finally, I asked a passing security guard for the block. He told me Luis had died. My heart fell to my stomach. Not because I wasnt going to get to crash at his place, but because I loved this guy. He was the father of one of tyhe guys I grew up with. It was along time since we'd seen eachother but that wouldnt have mattered. When I lived on the block and we ran into eachother it was like long lost family. It wouldnt have been any difference. I was sad cause he was dead.
     I lived at 22 E.93st. for 7years. and I gave Luis the key to my crib. He could go and come as he pleased. Even the old security guard, another father of a childhood friend was gone.It was a lonely feeling not having anyone to turn too. As I walked down Madison ave. I could see through the reflection in a mirror that the chain wasnt fastened properly on one of the Jewelry displays.I didnt care about the cameras cause I had a hood and hat on. My face was undistinquishable. Gloves stopped prints. All I had to do was move quickly and catch a cab on Park ave. I looked around and knew I was clear, but in my heart I just couldnt do it. It was wrong. It would be like taking a million steps backward.I took a deep breath of the cold air and as it burned my lungs I knew that I could be breathing cold air for 10years upstate at Sing Sing for this stupidity. That or I could get away withit and have to carry around all that guilt. I stopped in the deli on E.92st &; Madison and the korean lady gave me a free cup of tea. I smiled and thanked her from the bottom of my heart. That was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a long time.
     I took a few moments to get my head straight and went down the subway on E.96st &; Lexington ave. I took the train to the Bronx, went to Lincoln Hospitals Psychiatric Emergency room and claimed to be suicidal. I got admitted and knew that if I played the depression card I could lay up for at least a month.
     I'm not proud.But I was able to get some much needed help, and I had a bed. Even though I tell myself I did it for the bed I know that I really needed help.I thank God that it was there when I most needed it. Think about how many people are in prison cause they were either too proud or too stupid.Not all miracles come with blinding bright lights and harp playing angels.

At the End of the Day

     I'm crazy about Leslie Marshall.She's an intelligent news lady who has a heart. She uses her lifes experience in her work. And that heart is in the right place. She cares about the working guy.She cares about peoples rights.She been a voice in the unfairness of the Arizona law.
     The flip side of this is that if America is going to make a dent on terrorism and a dent in the drug war, this is a necessary evil. The enemy within truly concerns me. Drugs have all but destoyed my life, and has ended countless lives of family and friends!
     My experience with the drug scene makes me privy to the realities of the life. When you wch what looks like your average working class family walking with there two lovely children. It appears that they're simply taking a stroll. What most people dont know is that as they walk what they are actually doing is delivering a kilo of Heroin to the spot and making a pick up of several hundred grand.The kids are playing like all children, the difference being that they all have bundles of cash straped to there bodies.
     Not every member of these families are looking like criminals. They look like regular people. And because of relations and for a few hundred bucks they do some work.Alot of times they run bussinesses like  delis,even laundrimats. Any cash biz will do.It will always be right there in the open, it usually doesnt do excessive biz but we dont see there tax statements.
     This is the side of the life most people dont understand. Theree is so much that the average American doesnt see. At the end of the day its these simple issues that make us just that much less the great country that we could potentially be!

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Yankee Batboy 1978

     When I got the job Pat Kelly, V.P. hired me. Ironically, he fired me. But thats a different story. The first time I saw Steinbrenner he was walking with Howard Cosell. I was out on the field by the visiting teams bench.I really got excited. I asked him for an autograph. He wound up signing the otherside of Reggie Jacksons picture. Maybe I'm twisted but in my eyes Howard was a legend. I have an utmost respect for true journalist. This man had been the announcer on true man to man war. Boxing matches that will go down as history for eons. Steinbrenner was amuised by my genuine enthusism.
     One day he came up to me as I was watching batting practice and asked me if someone sitting in his box seats was him.I looked and said that he's the boss. And that he can sit anywhere he wants. He smiled and walked away. Lou Cacuzza ran up and said do you know who that was? I said yeah. He gave me a weird look. What was I supposed to do? If rich people want to playmes I willing to go along.When Deniro did it I wasn't as accomadating.I told him Robert was a junkie. Hey I dont always hold my tongue. And I wind up with a foot in my mouth.
      I can say so much more, but the fact is that he was a guy who made it! He wasdnt the kind of guy who pushed all his bullshit o your face. He was a real, fun kind of guy who could do a deal over 18 holes and on a handshake things got done.He had more respect for people that were real and didnt kiss his ass.
     Even though the situation with me was a fiasco, my sister has worked for the organization for over 17 years, She is now also thn steward.So I can say that I cant hold a grudge against an organization that has kept my baby sister employued all these years. Steinbrenner is and will always be a good man in my eyes. I challenge any man to say not. Good people live on in the memories of those who remember them long after they are gone.Rest In Peace brother Steinbrenner!!!!

Sunday, July 11, 2010

From Bottom To Top

     Numbers only matter in that you become more comfortableWith plenty of the same stuff. Only if your adventurous does it change. Then depending on your partners does it make a difference.
     Driving a cab can be viewed as a means to many ends. Mostly its a long and hard grind to make a few bucks. You have the oppurtunity to meet people and if you're a hustler you can do well. The real pluses came in the meeting of available , attractive women. Or men if thats your thing.
     I had a dude in the back seat and he was going to W.14st at 9th ave. and Hudson ave. What people now call the meat packing district. The club under the old building on the block was called The Hellfire. An S&M club that was a serious of rooms and tunnels that were sparsely decorated to accommadate bizarre sexual appetites.This guy invited me in offered to pay my way and I was on my own.
     I park my cab and took a look see. Within 30 seconds I'm looking ata guy hained and hanging from the ceiling. He's got pins and shit being stuck into his balls. There were some guys that were chained, cuffed and even some with the leather mask that hed been zipped closed.Women in outfits were the Dominatrix that had guys on there knees licking there boots as they got there bare asses paddled.
     A fine broad in a flax jacket stood infront of me. I looked dead into her ea cold day in hell before I 'd get on my knees. And just then this 20ish latino was being strapped by this good looking Dom and he got erect and she got hot too.They really started to get it on and it started a wave of sexual excitement in the place and all the slaves started following them. They finally had to duck into a private room to get privacy.
     I'll admit that it was hot, but it wasn't for me.I just cant get into being submissive publicly with strangers. In private with a women I trust would be a whole different animal.
     I left after that and went back to work.I went home and took my lunch break. I walked in grabbed my carrot top and took care of bussiness.Sometimes a nice hard fuck is what you need.Even remembering turns me on.Hell I wish she was here now.Love the one youre with.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Hell for a child

     There was never a sense of security when I grew up. Being around my mother could go from fun to fury in a moment. Even now with the years of therapy and as much time as I stay away from her, it makes nothing you can ever imagine seem to come close to the screaming and beatings that happened at 429 Wilson ave. in Bushwick Brooklyn.I dont remember much from the drug fuiled parties, mostly because we were given drugs to put us to sleep. I can remember once Jeanie freaking out cause she was having a bad trip.I remember lots of sex, drugs ,wine, and beer, Pot was smoked even more then cigarettes.
     I woke up wh this girl Shorty in my bed. I did what I saw the adults did. I kissed her and gave her a hicky.She pretended to be asleep and I almost got to home plate. At 6 yrs old I was trying to fuck this 18 yr old girl that was in my bed. I was so scared that my mother was gonna hit me that I took the $3. I had, all the money I had and tried to pay off this guy to say he did it. He took the money too.I got the shit beat out of me. I got my ass beat for that and it was ok for junkies to come over and work up.
     My bitch of a mother would ask me how I got on drugs and conviniently forget what had transpired in the Brooklyn apartment.
     Maybe the reason people dont believe me when I tell them about these horrors is that most people that experience these things dont make it to adulthood or they never cross paths with people like me because theyre in jail or dead.I can tell you about having my hair ripped out or pushed against the stove to have boiling water burn the skin off my belly. And to avoid questions at the emergency room I had toothpaste put on the burn to treat it.
     To look at me you would have no indication that I experienced such abuse. But to know me is to understand why I speak so strongly in behaif of childrens rights, and against any and all child abuse. There is no gray area. Hurt a child infront of me and one of us is going to the hospital.I could go on and recount many more stories of abuse but that would be counter productive at this time.
     Children are a gift and they should be nurtured, not used as pawns or abused. Love the gift you've been given!!!

Friday, July 9, 2010

3 bases a day

     Old man, Black Robert died today. He was 70 yrs old. In really poor health and made a living selling loose cigarettes. Actually, his living was SSI, a $761. monthly check and $200. in food stamps. His rent was paid by HUD. His end was just over $100. He sold cigarettes to support his Lottery and scratch off tickets.
     Every now and then he'd win a few bucks but it never added up. He was always trying for the big one. It just never seemed to come.He lived nin his very humble abode for 35 years. He had just gotten out of prison and vowed it was his last time. With the exception of a few skid bids, mostly tickets that they run you thru the system for. The bullshit that gets cops there over time. He stayed free.
      As a young man he was dirt poor and not handsome so he developed a relationship with heroin.It was his everything. Not too smart or lucky he spent his time in and out of jail. Between being dope sick and homeless e finally got on the Methadone program back in 69 and thats all she wrote.
     When I say 3 bases I mean that he went from his apartment to the program to the front of his building. That was his life. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him. But truth be known, nobody knew him. For whatever reason he talked to me. He liked to call me doc.I think it was that I always treated him with respect., That and I'm a good listener.
     Rob was one of the few that I would loan money too. He liked to gamble on the scratch offs, and he really never bet over his head.
     People put out a bunch of candles.The Arab store owners were all unhappy. They had no way to collect the money he owed them. With their 3 wives and children all collecting from the Goverment they get away with stealing enough. So, to hell with them. Robert got the last laugh as he stepped off the last base.
    

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Smithers Rehab 2000

     If its not hard enough with the concelors who because they have hospital workers union 1199 behind them feeling like they can get away with any bullshit they can come up with that day. Because of the hospital pay they feel they're on top of the pecking order and they 're alledgedly sober so you as trash have to be totally subserviant and kiss there ass. The flip side is that they kiss any clients ass with private insurance, or who may have a bit of a name from either showbiz or they come from money. Unfortunately, its the poor ass client who gets fucked no matter what. All too often they need services that short of begging on there knees won't get taken care of. Sadly its burn out and indifference from the councelors that are supposed to help you that hinder your success in recovery the most.So many clients were doing drugs and selling eachothers medication that it ddid become a slight distraction. I had a good councelor and I thank god for it.
     I didnt do drugs or get caught up in punk bullshit. I decided that if I'm gonna do this I'm gonna try to do my best. I was honest and it paid off. I didn't need too much cause I was always capible to work. My only deverssion was that I had sex with a pretty young blonde.
     This fine young thing, all of 25 but the girl was anything but nieve. We hit it off and it just happened. I guess the fact that I was non judgemental had alot to do with it. That and I treat women with respect. If you are about making the women feel good, and you put it across sincerely, you will get yours. Since I really try to saticfy a women I get the oppurtunity to prove myself.
     The hardest thing to admit is that I boned thbe councelor.Thats right I fucked her. As much as I liked her, she hadn't had sex for along whiade for a very uncomfortable situation. She was too tense and it was unpleasant. She was  a good person. So I put that aside and for a while we were friends. I made it thru the 28 days and went on to the stage of treatment.Residentual Treatment.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

One Day at a Time

     For years I didnt want to get sober. Then every once and a great while it would rear its ugly little head and reality would hit me in the face. I'm an actor and you'll never get anywhere like this. And what sucks is that it's true. Talent, charisma, all there. The problem is alot of people want to project there shit on you. So, having done this a million times before, I gave it another shot.
     I had enough cash to get through the holidays and go out with a final hurrah. But for whatever reason I just knew that the time was now! If I were to put it off I might not want to do it later.I called Cabrini Hospital Detox and got in the day before Christmas 2000. I got straight and went in. I remember the councelor telling me that I must want this as she put $300. in the envelope that was to go down to the vault with security.
     I pretty much slept the first 2 days. Even though they gave me methadone,lithium and something for benzo's I still felt like shit. When I said I did a bundle of dope a day it was. Alot of these assholes would lie about what they did to get high off the medication.It took awhile for me to hold down food and not feel nausious. And I had gotten to know all the others on the unit. The staff all knew me. Lord, I used detox to bring down my habit. I had the private room at the end of the hall, by the councelors office. I didnt want to use but this pretty young blonde and I hit it off. She managed to come up with a condom and thats all she wrote. We brought in the New Year right. If you're gonna break rules break them right. It was quiet on the unit and the hospital room with the lights off became a room in paradise somewhere else in the world for about an hour. We had  made plans that just never panned out. I was going to a rehab from there. I was accepted at Smithers Rehab. We where able to hook up 2 more times before she was to go home. We also spent alot of time talking about how we screwed things up, and how we where gonna make things better this time. Most of the other patients weren't there to try recovery. I have been where they're at so many times before. The reason she and I connected was that for both she and I there was something different this time.
      She had reached her discharge date and as she was about to leave she turned around and grabbed me in her arms and kissed me passionately. It surprised me and the nurses.The funny thing is that they didnt say anything. We looked at eachother and just smiled. She was gone.Ofcourse the other male patients made some comments. Those people didnt get that we needed eachother, even if for a short time. The ladies seemed to understand. I could see it in their smiles.My last 2 days were long. I made it through detox and was taken by cab to the great Smithers Rehab.

Monday, July 5, 2010

What a lovely end to a magnificent weekend!

Saturday, July 3, 2010

A Day in Flight

     It's 5am. How do I know? My Abueasking waking me up. Mi santo. My saint. Grandmothers have a hard time seeing anything but good in you, when youre growing up.My grandfather went through his morning constitutional as I did my morning ritual.
     I'd literally jump up out of bed and go through my limbering and stretching excercises. He'd shit, shower and shave. We'd have breakfast and I'd leave first. From the bathroom I could hear the music playing at Elvis Costello's apartment in the building next door. From my bathroom and kitchen, we could see his window. The music stopped and we could here a commosion. Then from the livingroom you could here the sirens. The Momtana hadn't been built yet and you would get the sound of every siren and horn on Broadway.At 6:15am and I was out the door.As I approached the front entrance I saw the cop cars up and down the street. I stepped out from behind the cop that was directing the early morning pedestrians to crooss the street. I always jumped the 4 steps of the little stoop infront of our building. I landed a foot away from the body. His legs and feet were stretched out over the sidewalk. His torso and head lay on the black garbage bags. His face was pale. His open lifeless blue eyes stared straight up to the sky. The morning light made him look surreal as he lay ther motionless.It didnt take me more than a second to pull myself together. I was 15 yrs old but by then I had seen many dead. As the cop tried to ask me questions all I can remember is that I brushing him off with I just woke up, gotta get to school. And I was ghost.
     I met my crew and was handing out the work and when I got to Lou he came up with this incredible story. One of the other workers pulled me aside and told me that it was all bullshit and that he had smoked it all. I walked back to him and put my arm around him as we walked down the train platform. I had the package in my hand and as we reached the stairway I pushed his ass down the stairs.He got fucked up.We made sure he got to the hospital and got medical attention for his wrist.
     Here it was not even 7am and I've seen one body and used what I had seen in the am to punish someone else. I didnt feel any remorse, this was just part of the biz. Maybe if he was honest about it I wouldn't have thrown his ass down a flight of stairs. But in these matters you had to make an example of the motherfucker.Even thogh it was only $50. you had toshow everyone that if they didn't pay there would be consequences.
     I wound up taking off from school for the day.My girl Rosa was traumatised by the news that her family was moving to Puerto Rico and that we had to breakup and she'd have to finish High school there on the island. We went to the motel on E.Gunhill rd. in the Bronx and we fucked like rabbits. She did alot of crying and I was actually simpathetic. It was the real deal. I liked her alot. But at 15 I wasn't marrying anyone. And my girl Midget downtown wouldn't have been happy about it either.Damn it, her name is Evelyn, I always hated that nickname"Midget". She was petite but she wasn't that small.
     After I collected the gap(Money), I met Evelyn and she tells me that we should live together on W107st. & Broadway. That she's gonna sign the lease and I wouldn't have to worry about rent. She would handle it. You se even at 15 I knew that you don't move in with a broad and not have your own place. More then that I knew I had to finish school first. Furthermore, I didnt want to commit to any girl.
     When I finally made it home my abuelito(grandpa) told me that the guy jumped out of the window of apartment 5E from 206 W.88st. He said that they think it was drugs. Then he tells me in a low voice to not even try drugs, that they were bad for you.Hey, I agreed.
     Elvis moved out by cover of night in less then 2 weeks, Rosa finished the semester and moved. Lou took a few more beatings and finally paid up. And Evelyn last I heard has 4 kids and is as big as a house.Truth is when I saw her I thought that it would be easier to lay sideways and roll down the block!

An act of kindness


I love this old guy. Actually, thats an understatement. People tend to use words like love, blessed. Phrases like "U my peeps" and refer to eachother as though they're "Family". All to often, when in fact they really have just experienced a second of emotion and want to make a powerful statement.
When it comes to me, because of the depth of my training and conditioning there is a deeper understanding of life. You can see the superficial manner in which interaction amongst others occurs.
I value when someone does something for me. An act of kindness.
Bob here helped me when no one else would. When my own family turned there backs on me for no reason. What hurt the most was that I have overcome so much adversity in this life. I was a jumble of good and bad core beliefs. On the one hand I carried the insanity that permiates the whole of the women in my family.On the other hand I carried the hard worker, responsible man of the family qualitities that my grandfather instilled in me.It made for the kind of person that was a great starter, I just never seemed to finish well.
My martial arts instructor made headway in affectng change in me. His heart was in the right place but the hard form of the martial art "Shorin-ryu" still had me at a quandry. The soft, gentle part of my life was unbalanced. It seemed to be missing. It was apparent in so many areas of my life. I always attacked things. There was no gentle approach.
So, here I am at 50 still working on balance. Learning that being gentle doesn't mean to always give in. To let people or things walk all over you. To be present in each and every aspect of life. It may seem like a tall order. But if you slow it down a bit, sometimes even taking a step back, you can achieve much more then if you run head on throw life. Taking it easy doesnt mean you're at a stop or stand still. Because of Bob, I've learned to go with the flow. It's better to get 3 things done well, then 10 done poorly.
For today I'm not in a rush. I'll get as much as I can, done. I'll do my best. And if I die before its finished, then it won't matter. I'm done!

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

A GENTLE WIND

Death, homocide, murder have been around me my entire life. To think that cops have it tough cause they have to deal with it is the kind of uninformed bullshit that liberal and conservative whites believe. Cops live to murder us. They do it with inpuinity. They get rubber stamped when its one of us. Dont think for a fucking second that I dont know what Im talking about.
As a youth I grew up watching them kill family members, friends and associates. As an adult driving a yellow cab in NYC I watched them kill people in the streets. If I can tall that it was a fucking toy gun you cant tell me that their alleged trained eye couldnt catch it. But its like getting points amoungst themselves when they take the shot that is justifiable cause the perp had an object in his hand.
Now, Im not anti-cop. As long as they do their job I dont give a shit either way. But Ive seen enough abuse and lies to fill Yankee Stadium. And as long as we let the lies persist its us that suffer.
First, be aware that if you make a complaint thbeyre gonna dig for any dirt they can find. Its very upsetting but if you are as clean as I am you have nothing to worry about. If not, then you better be able to live with your past. If you cant then youve lost freom the get go.
I was homeless back in 91 and was staying at the church St. John the Devines on W.111st. On the way home from a meeting one night a group of us witnessed 5 of the churches security beating a homeless man on the churches property. The other more senior members of the group said to not interfere, that we could get thrown out.
Well to make a long story short. When we got up in the morning and left after breakfast the homeless guy was dead. They had beat him, he died and they dragged him to outside the gate and thru his body by a tree on the other side of the gate. It sickened me to know that because I was afraid to lose my bed, a man lost his life.
Ofcourse they covered it up. Even the complaint I lodged with the NYPD was investigated by a drunk Homocide Detective. And he wasnt gonna loose any fucking sleep over a homeless black man.
I cant tell you how my pride and shame played into all of this. But had I an ounce of dignity I would have tried harder. A priest from another church helped me. And it got him transferred to the Pope only knows where.
It was swept under the rug and any self respect I had along with it.
Today, I have finaly forgiven myself and Im aware that it is set up to be a loosing proposition for anyone that isnt going to help further their cause.

Monday, May 17, 2010

New York City Rico

To say that things have come to a head is an understatement! Each and ever day is a struggle. I'd be the first new to tell you that if you represent it as difficult, then so it shall be. But its not a matter of positive thinking now. Actually that would be wishful thinking in my present state. I'm a realist most of the time. I also believe that you have to have dreams. And each time you achieve one you set yourself another.
Well today my dream is to be an Actor again. To write and get both produced and published. My goal is to get somewhat balanced again. I dont dick around. Alot has happened to get me to this place in my life. Like walking 5 miles into the woods. You need to walk 5 miles to get your ass out.
Right now I'm gonna make it as simple as I can. I'm gonna get a snack and get a good nights sleep. Tomorrow, if alls well I'll be completing the paperwork, begining the goalsheets, and if possible putting together some semblance of a schedule.
At least I'm smart enough to do what I can. Need be, do what has to be done. The daed weight, those people and things that aren't any fucking good for me I've cut loose. That even means dropping the broads. A good blow job can wind up being quite costly when the bitch don't wanna let go of the pipe. Or she needs to make money before she see's ya. Whatever the excuse. When it's time to kick em to the curb, kick hard. Kindness will be misconscrewed for weakness everytime with these folks so make it happen with clarity and a quickness. See ya, Hate to be ya!!!