MONDAY MONDAY, SO GOOD TO ME

Jets lost yesterday, they miss the playoffs. Rex got his revenge. Second time this year Buffalo beat them. My friend Pete, who’s a big Jets fan will be complaining tonight in Farrell’s.

Ten wins and no play-offs,” he’ll be crying.

Knicks beat the Hawks last night. What a surprise. Afflalo finally has a good game. I remember the Pistons drafted him a few years out of UCLA. We used to have season tickets at the Garden, got too expensive. Plus, I’m not feeling this triangle offense they run. Tell ya the truth, not a fan of Melo either.

I’m up for work, daughter is back at school after the two-week Christmas break. She goes to Saviour’s down on sixth avenue. Wife is a teacher across the street at Holy Name, oops I mean St. Joseph the Worker.

It’s Monday morning.

Let the grind begin.

Another day, another dollar.

It’s cold outside, gotta dress warm for work. Cleaned my work clothes over the weekend, have some new wool socks my wife bought me for Christmas. Thinking of buying new boots.

I’m an Ironworker out of Local 40, we’re almost done with the job on sixth avenue over in the city.  We’ve been putting up a twenty-story building. Can’t wait to top out. Maybe I’ll go on unemployment, and take a few weeks off.

Looking forward to this new project they’re talking about in downtown Brooklyn. Hoping to get called.

When they built Barclays on Flatbush, I was there for a little over a year. Great job. Great boss. Walked home when the weather was nice. Fifth avenue has changed. Still can’t buy into following the Nets. The Starbucks they built in the lobby was a good-call. Years ago if you were walking down there you had to carry a pistol.

Pacific street.

Dean street.

Don’t get me started.

My kid’s a junior in high school, she is starting to talk about colleges. I never went to college; dropped out of John Jay when I was sixteen.

She’s a good kid, got a good job over at Sanders on the circle. Oh wait, I mean The Pavilion.  Works as an usher. Sometimes they put her at the concession stand. When me and my old lady go there on the weekends to take in a movie, she gives us our popcorn for free. She worked late last night, knocked off at midnight. She’s tired this morning. Gotta remind her a few times to get up.

I hated getting up early when I was a teen. Those days sucked. Had zero motivation. Wanted to sleep until noon.

My daughter gave up playing ball; she was the best player on their varsity last year as a Sophomore. That’s what the assistant coach told us.

Said she didn’t like the girls on the varsity. Got a new coach too. Wasn’t feeling the coach last summer when they went to team camp. Was running this weird offense. Screamed a lot too. What is it with coaches who scream? Calm the fuck down, it’s only a game. They’re kids for crissakes. Remember the last time someone yelled at you?

The F-train is crowded this morning. I should have got up earlier to beat this crowd. We start the job at eight. The line in the deli was too long, couldn’t wait. Gonna have to grab a buttered roll and coffee from the guy on sixth avenue. May be a line there too. He’s got good danish.

Newspaper stand on ninth avenue closed a few months ago, have to wait to get to the city to grab the Post. Been thinking of opening up a stand. Part time hustle, make a few extra bucks on the side. Only problem is gotta get someone I trust to run it for me. Plus I gotta go through a lot of bullshit with the city. License for this, license for that. I just wanna sell newspapers, candy and soda. Rae and Otto’s was the best, they had everything. No one makes an egg cream anymore. Wonder if Otto played basketball? He was tall.

Like I said earlier, wife has a decent job, teaches fifth grade. Starting her tenth year.  Comes home every day and tells me the kids are the same, it’s the parents that have changed.

Entitlement,” is a word she uses often at the dinner table.

“These parents, all they want to do is blame me,” she likes to say.

“Accountability,” the word I counter with. “Gotta hold these kids accountable.”

Everyone wants to make excuses. Point fingers. Play the blame game.

“It’s not my fault.”

“Not my baby.”

Gotta tell ya, it’s cool living in the same neighborhood we grew up in. But as I look around, things are starting to change a bit.

Rent’s getting higher, friends are moving to Jersey, new people coming in. Not too friendly to tell you the truth. They hang out at the Double Windsor. Heard one of them call us “leftovers.”

Oh well, it’s Monday morning, work time.

-Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

 

 

 

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