09.27.2005
All Alone in the Moonlight
Hello. I’m busy, so busy, but not too busy to remember. Oh, no . . . never too busy to remember.
I just had a flash of when I was living in Manhattan. Five good friends of mine and I used to hang out at this café downstairs from our apartments. The best seats in the house were always there waiting for us, which was weird now that I think of it, as all of the seats in all of the other cafes in New York are usually taken by scruffy people talking into their cell phones or talking to themselves. Maybe it was because the manager had a crush on one of my friends, and another used to play guitar there at nights. Another one got divorced a lot.
That was before I moved to Seattle to become a radio personality and care for my father, a retired police officer who had been injured while on patrol.
posted by
David at 11:11 PM
I remember you guys. You were the obssesive-compulsive one with ambitions to become a chef. It's amazing what you can observe sitting in a corner talking to yourself.
posted by: campbell on 09.28.2005 at 2:38 AM
Hey, yeah, I remember you. Didn't you used to work for a taxi firm with a bad tempered shortass dispatcher and a strange foreign mechanic of uncertain origin.
posted by:
Alan on 09.28.2005 at 8:40 AM
Wait, wait, weren't you the brassy, ballsy one that took in your elderly mother to live with you and your other two friends, the dumb one and the tramp? You know, in that house with the lanai in the back.
posted by:
David on 09.28.2005 at 10:59 AM
I think you're all mistaken. He's the clumsy yet sweet natured guy that always got under the nerve of this cranky cartoonist, who spent his days drawing a flying cow and lived with his wife and two daughters in San Francisco.
posted by: James on 09.28.2005 at 11:46 AM
Was that before or after his naive cousin from the Island of Mypos immigrated, moved in with him, and spent each day 1) foiling his latest plan and 2) reminding him "Don't be ridiculous!"
posted by: Rindy on 09.28.2005 at 11:58 AM
No, no, no! You're all wrong. He was the bumbling realtor from Schooner Bay, a village somewhere in New England, who rented a cottage that belonged to his great-uncle, a sea captain, to a widow, her two children, and their scrappy dog! And, as it turned out, the cottage was haunted!!!
posted by:
Hanuman on 09.28.2005 at 12:19 PM
Tennessee Tuxedo is dead. Fuck.
posted by:
Rev. Phil on 09.28.2005 at 3:27 PM
I thought you lived with your two brothers near an inn in Vermont that was owned by a do-it-yourself book author and his buxom, sweater-wearing wife. You know, the one where that prissy blonde princess girl worked and the kind of dopey handyman.
posted by:
Crash on 09.28.2005 at 3:41 PM
Well all of that may be, but I also remember when you quit major league baseball, dried out and opened that bar in Boston. I loved that bar. Everyone knew my name.
Al this time I thought you and Rob had a blended family, with three girls and three boys, all around the same age. Oh, also a wacky housekeeper to add to the mix.
posted by: gregorio on 09.28.2005 at 4:18 PM
I love Manhattan.
I also love Seattle.
Your taste in cities is exquisite.
posted by:
Mush Mook on 09.28.2005 at 4:25 PM
Last I heard you were widowed, living with your two best friends (one was cloying, the other had good hair), and raising your three daughters (one of whom grew up to be anorectic twins).
posted by:
Brian on 09.30.2005 at 2:38 PM
I know such funny people. Why do I even bother to get out of bed?
posted by:
David on 09.30.2005 at 11:54 PM
I was never one of the Chosen Ones who got the good seats at coffee shops. You and your five friends rock, even if you no longer hang at the coffee shop.
posted by:
Coffeedog on 10.08.2005 at 8:19 PM
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