The man who knew Huncke

For Christmas I was given a copy of the original un-edited "scroll" version of On the Road by  Jack Kerouac. I remember reading the official version of this book while a senior in high school. It talks about the pleasures of hitchhiking, traveling aimlessly, hanging out with hobos and wild women. It made many a youngster admire the life described.

As a college student I hung out with some bearded men at the dorm who talked about the Beat writers, Rimbaud, Henry Miller and others of that ilk. The leader of the gang was the older guy who owned the paperback used book store on George Street in New Brunswick. He was a reformed addict, had some beat oriented first editions and had claimed to know Herbert Huncke.

After graduating with my BA in English the only job I could find was selling hot dogs at Two Guys and through CETA and some family connections I got a minimum wage job working at a public library. Later on I went to library school, got my MLS, and then found out all the school teachers who couldn't get jobs had become librarians in an overcrowded field. I was determined though, and unlike most people, I could relocate.

New Years Eve I spend in New Brunswick with the old bearded gang. The man who knew Huncke was there. He was living in Denver and wanted me to come there. "Come on man, move to Denver! There's plenty of jobs out there. You've got the mountains, cheap rent, and beautiful women".
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I remembered On the Road, then, and decided to follow the beat trail and go to Denver. Like Jack Kerouac I would move to Denver, have adventures, and get a high paying librarian position.

I packed all of my belongings that fit into the Ford Falcon my father gave me (he told me the car was mine if I paid for the brake job). I left for Denver. I picked up a hitch hiker that had a baby. After two days of driving and a night in Hays Kansas, I arrived in Denver. I stayed in a flea bitten hotel downtown and made copies of my resume.

I had only an address for the man who knew Huncke. He apparently hung out at the Muddy Waters of the Platte and worked in the used book store attached to the coffee house. When I got there it was too early and the coffee house was closed. Next door was a building painted in psychedelic colors. I figured there might be a connection between the two places.

I walked in and heard his voice. He was talking, the man who knew Huncke. He was trying to borrow money from the man standing in the doorway of an apartment. I was tempted to flee but I didn't and met up with him. He turned out to be a good, if erratic, friend. I outlasted him in Denver by five years.

America needs to have more babies

Speaker of the House Paul Ryan announced today that the problem with Americans is that we need to have more babies.

Susan: Boy, I'm beat. I need to get some sleep.
Frank: What do you say honey, want to have a baby?
Susan: You can go brush your teeth, Frank, that's the last thing I want to do is have a baby.
Frank: But Susan, the Speaker of the House said that 'Americans need to have more babies'.
Susan: And who's going to pay for these babies?
Frank: I dunno. Just want to do what's best for the country.

Guess it's time we all get together and have more babies. The Speaker of the House said so.

I guess they think I'm a Republican

Ever since I donated money to the campaign of Georgia's Jon Osoff I have been receiving money pleads from Nancy Pelosi and other Democrats. Somehow I got on a Republican list too. Maybe it was my blog from a few years ago. This morning I awoke with an email inviting me to stay at Trump's hotel. I know it's just a contest but it would be fun to have a breakfast brunch with Ivanka.

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Booze and movies

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/booze-women-movies_us_5a25ca7ae4b086e4e503d75c

Apparently Senator Grasley justifies the ending of the estate tax by saying those of us who never had to pay an estate tax spend it all on wine, women and song. Here is a cute article about a man who spends all his money on liquor and the movies. I think living in unionized states also is a sin that needs to be corrected.

The break room

As I approach my last year of meaningful work, it is tempting to start thinking about what I will miss the most. For me, it will be the coffee break. The first time I ever heard about the coffee break was when I was visiting my father's office and saw men lounging about and smoking in this room that looked like a 1930's kitchen.

"Gee Dad, do people really get paid for sitting in this room?"
"Yes, sadly, for most of them the coffee break is the most important time of the day".

The coffee break has its rules. Rules that a new employee has to digest. For example, if you want to avoid the long lines at the cafeteria you sneak down ten minutes early, ideally when your supervisor has stepped away. If you take the break too late you will have to make coffee in the break room or face the prospect of an empty pot.

Sadly, smoking is no longer permitted at the table like it used to be. The smokers have to sit outside of the building. Ah, the break room. Different types of habitués are found there.

There are the break room slobs who leave pieces of food in the sink when they are finished. There are the people who never take their lunch home. They come to work with the goal of saving their budgets and waistlines with a healthy sandwich and salad they made at home. They are coerced into going out for lunch with the gang. Months later, their sandwich is still right where they left it in the refrigerator, now starting to smell. Someone else will have to chuck the sandwich when it becomes their turn to clean out the refrigerator. Cleaning out the refrigerator is a task that is normally assigned to staff on a rotating basis. There is a special place in Heaven for refrigerator committees. Which brings us to those loveable things, the break room signs.  :

                                            A scientists' break room:

 Poor Deborah. Being called out by name in the break room.

 The pleasure of cleaning out the refrigerator is one of the things I will miss the most about work.

It could really happen

Marijuana may become legal in New Jersey. It's hard to believe but it was a pivotal point in Phil Murphy's platform and now he is the governor elect. For an aging baby boomer, it is hard to believe.

Whenever people asked Phil Murphy how he is going to pay for all those pensions, pre kindergarten, and balance the state budget, he said he would legalize marijuana. Even for conservatives who never liked the idea it made sense. Dollars have an evil attraction to the human soul.

Marijuana could be the next casino gambling. When Atlantic City was the only place that had it on the Eastern seaboard the state made out like bandits. Then other states discovered it and Atlantic City became just another tired city with  slot machines and a boardwalk. The same thing could happen now. Two years from now, Red Bank, Montclair, Asbury Park, and Hoboken will be the hip places on the East coast. Greta Gerwig will even make a movie in the state.

Eventually, though,  New York will legalize it and things will be back to where things were.  All the hip people will be back in Brooklyn and L.A. and New Jersey will become just another tired east coast state with Polish ice.

Addenda:
Mother son interactions before and after legalization.
Mother: What did you do at Johnny's house last night?
(Before) Son: Oh we just listened to the Buffalo Springfield and ate apple pie.
(After) Son: Oh we just listened to the Buffalo Springfield and got stoned on Colombian and ate apple pie.

Girls weekends

As I have aged and have inevitably found myself with other people in the over 50 set, I have noticed a disturbing phenomenon, that of  "girls weekends". In this scenario, while the men are patching up the grout in the bathroom or trying out their  deck wash, the women are having "girls weekends". On these excursions the women get together and go to casinos, bars, garden shows, museums and antique shops while the men are left at home.

Yes men may go to the occasional car show or convention, but it seems that women are having more fun than we are. Why aren't men invited to "girls weekends"?   Is it because men of a certain age are bossy, lazy, stay at home curmudgeons? 

Perhaps, alas,  it is because men of a certain age have become bossy, lazy, stay at home curmudgeons, Yes it is true that some of us haven't aged well. Well, off to Lowes. I need to buy some deck wash.