OLD BILL NEXT TO ME by Peter Nolan Smith

New York's Plaza Hotel had been a world-famous destination for decades, however and its 2008 reinvention as a condo-palace and demi-hotel seriously tarnished the reputation of Grand Lady on 5th Avenue.

While the newly opened Retail Plaza in the basement had been an abject failure and the hotel was run by Israeli realtors with the hospitality of the IDF in Gaza, the Oak Bar continued to attract power brokers, celebrities, and faces from the front covers of the newspapers and magazines.

Still the basement wasn't a total lost.

One afternoon Susan Lucci, the soap opera queen, entered our subterranean jewelry store and my young Russian 'work wife' asked the diminutive TV actress, "Does anyone tell you that you look like Susan Lucci?"

"All the time." Her mouth smirked sweetly at the blonde's ignorant innocence.

"Are you Susan Lucci?" Vanessa gasped like she had been tossed out of the Space Shuttle into zero atmosphere.

"Most of the time." Susan Lucci exuded an internal beauty beneath her botoxed skin.

"C-c-congratulations." My work-wife stammered out her best wishes to Lucci for being Lucci.

"Thank you." Susan wheeled a turn on her spike heels without which she would have been less than five feet tall.

We later realted this encounter with the star of ALL MY CHILDREN to the other salespeople trapped in the doomed Plaza Collection.

They laughed at Vanessa's offering 'congratulations'.

"I didn't know what else to say." The blonde had worshipped Susan Lucci from her couch for years.

Several days later David Beckham and his wife Posh visited the hotel. The paparazzi rioted outside the entrance. Fans screamed out his name. The madhouse lasted for hours.

Celebrity has its perks, but power demanded more challenging accommodations and one February evening the Secret Service locked down the hotel for the arrival of Bill Clinton, the former president of the USA, who had a table reserved in the Oak Room.

Agents in black suits roamed the hotel. They surveilled guests and workers with suspicion. Bill had been a popular president, but men in high places retained their enemies after retirement.

AS I walked through the hotel, the Secret Service ignored me, judging a fifty-five year old diamond salesman to be harmless. They were right. I was no assassin.

I almost visited the Oak Room to gawk at Clinton, but customers kept me busy and at the closing hour I went to washroom at the rear of the Retail Collection. The owner of Leather Spa said that the ex-president had stopped for a shoeshine.

"He tipped Segundo $10."

"He wore handmade loafer from England." Segundo knew his shoes.

"A good tipper." A shine cost $4 at their stand. "Is he still in the Oak Room?"

"Far as I know."

"Maybe I'll stop up there for a drink after work."

I headed into the men's room.

The attendant wasn't on duty.

I hate Mssr. Le PeePee.

I stood at a stall and unzipped my fly.

Two seconds later a taller man stepped close to the adjoining urinal.His shoulder almost touched mine.

Male toilet manners require strangers to neither touch nor talk to another man before the porcelain god, so I dropped my eyes to the floor, only to notice that my neighbor's shoes were highly buffed loafers with tassels.

I lifted my gaze.

The ex-president was peeing next to me without his Secret Service agents.

Some things a man has to do on his own.

The former president smiled at me and I involuntarily peeked into his urinal.

Bill frowned and lowered his broad shoulder to block my view, then shook his member and strode out of the men's room without washing his hands.

Same as 99% of the men at Yankee Stadium or Madison Square Garden.

Being and Old School 1% I rinsed mine under cold water and exited from the men's room expecting to be accosted by his security detail. The only people in the hallway were Segundo and his boss. They pointed upstairs to indicate the direction of Bill's departure. I nodded and returned to my shop.

Vanessa was ready to go.

"What took you so long?"

"I ran into Bill Clinton in the bathroom."

"Hillary's husband?" Women looked at men differently from men.

"I peed next to him."

"And did you look at him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, look at his schwanze?" Vanessa was a nice girl from Moscow, but she wanted to know. "My husband says all types of men check out him in the bathroom. Did you look at his penis?"

She was my work-wife, not my real wife, so I told her what I would have told anyone.

"No." A gentleman never talk about woman's age or the size of a man's penis.

"Oh." She was disappointed. "Were you scared about being gay?"

"With the president of the United States?"

"Ex-president." Women were experts at putting men in their place.

"I don't look at men's penises."

"Liar. All men look at porno. Don't tell me there aren't any penis there?"

"That's different."

"Right." Vanessa huffed and picked up her cell. She spoke in Russian. I heard the name Clinton, then pietska. It meant penis in her language. My co-worker smiled at me. She knew the truth.

I had looked at Bill's crank.

And checking another man's schlong isn't a gay thing.

It's just something you do.

Of course my gay friends think that all men are gay.

Given the right circumstances they are right.

Bathroom, ex-president, New York?

Thankfully Bill's not my type and I'm certainly not his and I know, because he never bothered to look at mine.

Happy 100th Birthday Poo Frank

My father passed away over five years ago.

Today would have been his 95th birthday.

Frank A Smith II was my best friend.

Still is.

He loved my mother and mourned her early passing from this life.

My father loved his kids.

All six of us.

Frank III, Regina, Pam, Patrick, Michael, and me.

He was a native of Maine.

And Watchic Pond

I loved that lake too.

It always felt like home.

After my mother passed in 1996, my father and I traveled the world.

We voyaged by car through France.

He came to stay with me later in Ireland and we found my Nana's house.

We went west to Utah.

North to Quebec.

And Poo Frank voyaged around the world to Thailand to meet my family.

Frank A Smith was a good man and while I don't carry his name, I will follow his path around the world.

iPhone love

The other night I went to dinner at John's Italian restaurant in the East Village. The establishment has been serving hearty southern dishes since 2008. The menu was a time machine to my youth and I ordered the meatball and spaghetti. My dinner companion had the tomato raviolis. We ordered Chiantis and converse about friends, until she said, "Look over there."

"Where?" It was a Monday night. There were only three tables.

"The young couple sitting against the wall," whispered Susan. We were just friends, but she's thirty years my junior. I'm older than most people these days, so I'm accustomed to age decrepancies .

I turned my head to a young attractive couple.

The man was glued to his iPhone.

He had a beer.

She had nothing to drink.

"He's been on the phone for ten minutes," Susan hunched over to me.

"And he hasn't said anything to her?"

"Not a word."

"And he hasn't ordered her a drink."

"Schmuck."

"He's probably googling how to speak with women on your first date."

"Sad but true."

We returned to our dinner and talk. The waiter came by and I waved him over.

"Ask that girl if she wants something to drink, because the jerk on the iPhone won't."

"I'd love to, but we have a bet to see how how it will be before he gets off the phone. I went for the long shot and said twenty minutes."

"You're looking good," commented Susan.

"Can I offer you a glass of wine on the house?"

"Thanks."

We looked over the dessert menu and at the twenty-first minute the girl got the waiter's attention to order a Sprite.

"Sprite?" I would have order the most expensive wine.

"Yes, she's saying there's no way he getting a second date."

The man reacted to the intrusion and showed the woman his iPhone. He thought something was funny.

"Jerk off," Susan and I said it at the same time, happy with our wine.

It does make a mundane world nicer.

As does John's of 12th Street 302 East 12th Street, NYC 10003 (212) 475-9531

I recommend it highly.

Subvertizements of Apartheid

According to electronicintifada.net activists from London Palestine Action plastered these posters criticizing Israel’s apartheid policies against Palestinians all over London’s underground train network early Sunday morning calling them “subvertisements,” political messages designed to look like sanctioned advertising.

Next week It's Israeli Apartheid Week in the UK.

Israel has spend billions demonizing the Palestinians as terrorists, a non-race, and animals. The UK has sold the Zionist State billions of arms to oppress Gaza and the West Bank. Several Israeli organization demanded for the posters to be taken down before the Monday rush hour. Transport officials said they got most, but not all, so the message went out to some people.

The UK Zionist Federation on Monday called for authorities to “apprehend the original culprits.” and the Prime Minister called the ads 'inciteful'.

I am sure he meant to say 'insightful' since inciteful is not a word. According to electronicintifada.net former Israeli foreign minister Tzipi Livni, who in 2009 evaded a UK arrest warrant for war crimes, denied that Israel practices apartheid and said the posters showed that the boycott, divestment and sanctions movement “is against the existence of Israel.”

What they are against is the apartheid treatment of Palestinians; pass cards, arbitrary arrests, infantile incarceration, house bombing, and the theft of land without any recourse to justice.

FREE PALESTINE

The Depassioning of Cellphones

The closer we are, the farther we are with cellphones.

They take us away from the 'now' to the never was of the internet.

And you can't expect anything else, when the 'now' is a prison of the overdosed senses.

Lose your iPhones and be free.

Spring is around the corner. Flowers The warm sun. A long sunset Without a selfie. Because some things are meant to be seen only by your eyes.

Rattlesnake Alert

Last year local wildlife officials were called to the Blue Hills south of Boston in response to 911 call alerting to the presence of a timber rattlesnake in a populated area. Officers captured the serpent and released rattler into the Great Bog. My sister called me with this information and I asked, "Do you remember the winter Frunk saw a rattlesnake in the snow?"

"No." Her blunt refusal wasn't surprising, since she had been six in 1962.

I had been ten.

"Frunk and I were walking home. It must have been close to Christmas since it was dark early." New England was renowned for dreary winters. Nights were long and snow fell in November. "When we got to our house, Frunk whispered for me to look at the driveway. I turned my head and he pointed out a wavering shadow in the snow and said it was a rattlesnake."

"A rattlesnake?" she scoffed with a sigh. "You saw a rattlesnake in the winter. In the snow?"

My sister was a lawyer. She was an expert at grilling witnesses, but I was unafraid of telling the truth or a good story.

"Frunk saw it as a snake. I didn't know what it was, but I wasn't taking any chances and we ran into the house. Mom asked what was the problem and Frunk told her about the snake. She shook her head, until she saw the silhouette in the snow. It was about time for Dad to come home and she called the police. It must have been a slow day, because two patrol cars arrived within minutes. Getting out of their cars they drew their guns. Frunk went outside and showed them what he thought was the snake. The oldest cop pointed a flashlight and the snake became a piece of brown paper stuck in the snow. Everyone had a good laugh about it."

"I still don't remember it."

"No?"

"And I don't remember ever hearing about it until now."

"Oh." I nodded my head, recollecting that Frunk had sworn me to never mentioned the incident and the story died out after a week's ribbing. "Maybe I was just imagining it."

"You and your imagination. Have a good week."

"You too."

Later that evening I called my older brother. He didn't answer the phone and I left a message about the timber rattlesnake. He never returned my call, because some things only happened in the past and this was one of them.

The Snake Seduction of Eve

Quabbin Reservoir was created in the 1930s to serve the Boston area with clean water. Farms and towns were evacuated in the flood plain and the watershed has served as a park for visiting families and hikers, however the Massachusetts Division of fisheries and Wildlife has decided to set up a colony of eight venomous rattlesnakes on an uninhabited island to prevent the venomous timber rattlesnakes from extinction.

Fear-ridden residents of the area are calling the state offices to express their paranoia about rattler infestation.

Much ado about nothing, for while two hundred timber rattlesnakes remain in the wilds of western Massachusetts, there has been no reports of a fatal biting since colonial times, except for a suspected strike on the North Quabbin Trails Association president's collie.

Keltz was bitten on the nose, causing excessive bleeding.

No swelling.

Some people are just scared of snakes.

After all the Snake offered the apple to Eve.

The bible tells us so.

As a devout atheist I say bring back the rattlers.

The sooner the better.

We need a new Eve.

Vanished

Opps.

Disappeared like I had been detained by the CIA.

But I'm back.

Where was ?

I don't know.

Which is a good thing.

Valentine Day's 10 Commandments of Love in Thailand

Back in 2007 anyone thinking that Valentine's Day in Thailand was a purely commercial holiday for selling roses without a bouquet and red lingerie for your mia noi, the Culture Ministry's declaration of 10 Commandments of Love must have come as a surprise, especially since you can't find a complete list of the 10 dos or don'ts. Which won't stop the coppers from enforcing these CIA-inspired Taliban rules.

So far my list is three.

#1 - Love with patience, so as not to become a young parent.

#2 - Love only one person.

#4 - Avoid the risk of sexually transmitted diseases.

I'll guess the other 7.

# 3. Love the other person as you love yourself, but no masturbation.

#5. Respect the wishes of the other person, unless the request is too weird.

#6. Get home at a good hour. Sleep is better than sex. Remember no touching yourself. 

#7. School should come before sex, especially if it's with teachers.

#8. Do not take rides from strange men or even men you know who aren't strange.

 #9. Girls, don't shine your shoes, because you know what boys are after.

#10. Boys, don't means don't, even when it doesn't mean don't.

Sounds good, until hearing that the Bangkok Police were ordered out of the barracks to foil any under-age couple from committing the sin of kissing, which the boys in brown consider tam nong klong tam - mai kao taa or inappropriate behavior.

That year of No the police patrolled after school 'danger zones' such as public parks, shopping malls and restaurants and evening risk like nightclubs, bars and love motels.

"If we find teenagers below 18 engaged in inappropriate behavior like kissing, we will give them warnings and report to their parents so they can pick them up." A police moral authority stated before adding "Alcohol is definitely a catalyst for this kind of behavior, so we will keep an eye on underage drinking."

Seemingly the police feel that sexual interactions are heightening due to the excess western influences instead of the more prosaic boy meets girl.

So following Valentine's Day leads to kissing and then sex and the collapse of the traditional Thai values of sober modesty.

Better by your example you should lead the young into the future, especially since St. Valentine's Day celebrates a bastardization of a Roman holiday, when the pagans beseeched Lupercus to banish the wolves from the city on February 15. On the Eve of the festival the names of young girls would be picked by the boys in hope they would become lovers for the year.

Sounds familiar?

Strangely can't imagine the Catholic Church ever getting involved in the art of love except to tell people what not to do, as with the Bangkok police. But then the rites of the festival of Lupercas were hard for the Church to accept.

This abridged excerpt comes from http://www.secweb.org/index.aspx?action=viewAsset&id=260

Teenagers and young adult males would meet at a cave below the Palentine to sacrifice goats or dogs. The skins of the animals cut into wet strips called Februa (from which we derive the name February for the month) and males would take these strips into the heart of the city and use them to randomly beat people (particularly women).

On the second day of the festival, each man would draw the name of one of the women who had been hit with the Februa, and she would be coupled with him until the next festival. (This was a voluntary coupling; the woman was under no legal or social obligation to stay with the man.) It was basically just an excuse to sleep with someone for a year without commitment or obligation. ________________________________________________

The collapse of morality or young people having a good time?

The Church knows best and banished St. Valentine to pseudo-saintdom with St. Christophe and St. Patrick feeling they could no longer condone a role in the propagation of a pagan love festival.

Personally I saw no under-aged kids kissing in Pattaya that year.

But if I had I wouldn't have snitched them out.

Boy meet girl

Romeo and Juliette

Is that so bad?

Sexy Thai Valentines

Red red red.

More red.

Ready for red.

Red Lady Karn

More red Lady Karn

Ever red.

Thai red.

And just a redhead.

Ladyboys all red.

Valentine Globalization

Valentine's Day has become a global holiday, although few people know the exact origins of why hearts are sent to loved ones. The tradition has been mainly attributed to a Roman priest Valentine who performed Christian marriages against the wishes of the Roman Emperor. According to Wikipedia Emperor Claudius took a liking to this prisoner – until Valentinus tried to convert the Emperor – whereupon this priest was condemned to brutal death.

The Imperial Guard beat the priest with clubs and stones; when that failed to kill him, he was beheaded outside the Flaminian Gate.

Supposedly before his execution Valentinus wrote a farewell note to his beloved inscribed 'From your Valentine'.

The Holy Catholic Church has never mentioned of this marital anathema on Valentine's Day.

Not that the priests of the Vatican are celibate.

Still the holiday is celebrated around the world and young people in Thailand vow to have sex with their lovers.

Puritan Thai authorities disapprove of this adaptation of the Valentine rites and officials post police near honeymoon hotels to prevent teens from acting on their desires. Contradicting this moral conservatism the Culture Minister has ordered his officers to distribute 10,000 condoms to teens in preparation for their civil disobedience.

In truth the boys are praying to be lucky and I know that when I was a teenager girls were thinking in the opposite direction. Most teens will go to eat with their friends and the boys dream about getting the green light as they pay for the meal.

Only a few will be so lucky and that's only because they were lucky before.

So Happy Valentine Day youth of the world.

Being far from my wife I'm celebrating mine with my favorite lover.

A bottle of wine.

Pryor Love

Bernie Wins NH

Senator McGovern won one state and the District of Columbia in 1972.

Massachusetts.

A journalist asked a Bostonian why the North Dakotan had carried the Bay State against the Richard Nixon tsunami and the townie said, "As a Bostonian we know a crook, when we see one."

And we know what is right too.

Go Bernie Go.

Happy Monkey Year 2016

Monkeys are tricky.

Move fast.

Move with bananas, otherwise you'll be pelted with monkey shit and that shit stinks.

image by tristam de quatremere

Dan Hicks RIP

Dan Hicks passed from this earth the other day.

in 1967 the songwriter/guitarist/vocalist formed Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks with David LaFlamme later of It's A Beautiful Day, two female back-up singers and another guitarist to steady the bassline. Sherry Snow and Christine Gancher doubled on percussion. I loved this band and especially their great classic SCARED MYSELF.

Dan Hicks bailed on the fame and fortune trip in 1973 saying according to wikipedia, "I didn't want to be a bandleader anymore. It was a load and a load I didn't want. I'm basically a loner... I like singing and stuff, but I didn't necessarily want to be a bandleader. The thing had turned into a collective sort of thing – democracy, vote on this, do that. I conceived the thing. They wouldn't be there if it wasn't for me. My role as leader started diminishing, but it was my fault because I let it happen; I cared less as the thing went on."

I'm a big fan of apathy.

And even a bigger fan of Dan Hicks

To listen to SCARED MYSELF, please go to the following URL;

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0h6FBbw8jY

ps the girls in the band were hot.

We could say that back then.

And for good reasons.

Because it was the truth.

Riot At The Ritz 1981

In May 1981 PIL, the front band for ex-Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten was approached by the Ritz in the East Village to fill in for Bow Wow Wow. The band wasn't into doing the gig but according to Ed Caraballo, the band's cameraman said to the band, "Wait,they have all this fabulous video equipment there and we could do this really cool performance art thing.' He said 'yeah?' So we went down to check it out."

After seeing the stage the band decided to play behind a screen just to piss off the audience.

The night was bad.

Rain.

A sell-out Bow Wow Wow crowd.

PIL tormented the audience by not letting anyone into the Ritz until the arrival of Johnny Lydon.

The bouncers were my friends. I resold the tickets for SRO shows. Tonight was a one of those nights. We all stood to make several hundred dollars, so they let me in before anyone else, saying, "Make us green."

I don't remember the first band, but after their set I descended to the door and grabbed a stack of tickets from the bouncers. Everyone was in a good mood. Money has that way with us back in the 1980s.

The tickets went fast and I handed the bouncers their share.

50/50 in my favor.

The dance floor was packed and I went to the sound booth.

The audience was shouting, "PIL, PIL, PIL."

I was standing next to Jerry Brandt, the owner, and asked, "What's with the screen?"

"Johnny Lydon wanted it."

"For what?"

The crowd was pissed at the long wait in the rain and the even longer delay in the Ritz. It was almost 1am. The audience was getting nasty, They wanted a show and wanted it thirty minutes ago.

Some woman came out and yelled on a mike, "HI, I'M LISA YAPP! I'M HERE TO TALK ABOUT PUBLIC IMAGE LIMITED!"

Beer bottles flew at the stage and I turned to Jerry and said, "Watch this."

"What?"

"A riot. But don't worry, you're with me." I had a reputation back then and $500 in my pocket. Half of it should have gone to the club, but that half was better in my pocket.

The music was trash.

But good trash, however the audience wanted to see the band.

It wasn't happening.

More beer bottles hit the screen.

Then Johnny berated his fans, "Sil-ly fuck-ing aud-ience, sil-ly fuck-ing aud-i-ence..."

"Fuck."Jerry on the phone to security.

It's too late.

PIL sucks and they don't care if they suck.

This is art.

And Johnny's loving the danger.

It's 1981.

I told Jerry, "I'll see you later."

"Fuck you too."

He wasn't happy with any of it.

I wouldn't have been happy either if I was him, but I wasn't and had $500 in my pocket, which was a lot in 1981 and still is today.

PIL PIL PIL

To see the riot online, please go to the following Url

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ru6TuywY-0

Naga Fire Over The Mekong

The legend of the Naga snake predated history, but was spread from India in the great epic Mahabharata.

While the great serpent has been portrayed as an evil poisonous creature temples, Naga statues adorn temples throughout Asia and every October during Buddhist Lent thousands of Thais and tourists flock to view the glowing gas balls or bung fai paya nak float over the Mekong River from the mythical Naga creature.

No one can explained the phenomena of the glowing gas balls other than to describe them as phosphine gas released from the marshes along the Mekong or free-floating plasma balls.

Either way no one has seen the Naga, but the Thais are respectful of the great cobra who protected Buddha as am I having seen the Great Marshfield Sea Monster.

Stranger things exist on this earth.

And some of them are human.

Like Lady Karn.

Elephant Magic Trick for Thai Love

Elephants have long memories.

Mostly because they have long lives.

I have met 100 year-old elephants in Thailand.

Not in Africa since poachers killed the pachyderms for their tusks. You would have thought somewhere along the line these ivory hunters would have invested in an elephant dentist, although I doubt elephants are very tractable for tusk extractions.

Thai elephants are different from Africans.

They are trained to perform certain tasks and are considered good luck.

Even as a fertility blessing.

Any woman passing five times under an elephant's belly is destined to give birth within the year, that is if she survives the ritual, because while elephants do have long memories, they aren't the most patient of animals, but it's definitely cheaper than a visit to a fertility clinic.

$2 Pussy - Richard Pryor

The best.

To see Richard Pryor Live At West Hollywood, please go to this URL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRO9NEwlLOM