You know you are getting old when one of the seminal albums of your youth turns 20. I know not everybody is a U2 fan, but the Joshua Tree was a pretty impressive album and one of the last ones I bought new on vinyl. Here's the days when they just came out and started playing.

Ah, it was a little chilly for lunch outside but a coworker of mine and I cared not. I blame (e:chico) . His journal about cheap eats got me thinking and we put those thoughts into action. Really good Italian lunch can be had if you stop by Chefs (and wait for the light to change) and keep going down Seneca to Ditondos. For $7.00 I got enough Shells and Ricott to feed me and well a younger hungrier version of me a second time.

Cheaper, quicker and flat out better than Chefs (bread is a little better too). I've lived here close to forever and never understood the Chefs hullaballoo. DiTondos has a nice little porch that almost makes you forget you are on Seneca St.

Got a call from a former business colleague wanting to know if I was interested in the Roger Waters show. He is playing at Darien Lake. Somehow, "Dark Side of the Moon" doesn't seem like much of an ampitheater show with the backdrop of roller coasters and ferris wheels. But perhaps, that is what makes it entirely right. I guess I'm a little biased thinking that with it's hugeness, Darien Lake is a crappy venue for most shows. I guess I remember all too well seeing Santana out there when the theater was just a hillside with a stage at the bottom where you could actually see the show. There goes my age showing again.

Still haven't heard a thing from my interview of last week, other than support from coworkers who believe I should be a shoo-in. If only they had something to do with the process, life would be great. The powers that be say five people were interviewed. I was the first and hopefully set the bar high. It's be nice to get back to that instead of dreading working till 7:30 in West Seneca tonight. Car may have to careen into the Anchor Bar on the way home for a pint. Supposedly, those who are liked well enough from the first interview get to talk to the interviewer and her boss as well as her counterpart later this week. Since her counterpart was my boss, I think I got all I can have in my favor. I miss this one though, I'm half tempted to say fuck it and get truly serious about finding another venue to hang my hat.

Off to NYC for an extended weekend in May to site see and sponge off my elder sister. Knowing her, we'll eat good. I'm taking number one daughter along so she can get her first taste of Manhattan. Should be a hoot.

One more work note, I met my uber boss for the first time on Friday. He actually sought me out. We chatted briefly and he indicated that he liked what he'd been hearing about me. However, he has also been the primary hatchet man in the recent round of layoffs, reassignments and flat out firings. I relayed the story of the encounter to the woman who shares my title now. She said "So, you met the Angel of Death, was his hand cold when you shook it?"

Sounds like a shot I might take.

Weather was great, yesterday, or so I'm told. The one instance I had to walk outside was right at the start of the quick rainstorm. If that ain't a metaphor for having a monday, I'm not sure what is.

Keep passing the opening windows, peeps.

Second time I've vented a little about a lost soul, but we lost a cool neighbor about a week or so ago. Mrs. B was one of the true groovy old ladies. She wasn't one to stand on ceremony. Your first appearance in her door triggered the "let me set you a plate" response. Whoopi Goldberg did a good monologue a few years about "we all just folks." Mrs. B seemed to operate with that as her moral compass, a truly rare trait. She lived off Elmwood for more than 50 years. When we moved in next door back in 95, she was at the door to say hello with the moving truck. Halloween meant making sure the kids got to her house for the "special treats." She did a little thing for each of my lot and the family on the other side.

When I moved out in '04, she also appeared to let my ex and I know we both had a friend without strings attached. That value was priceless.
An admirably dirty grin with a mind to match, she took great delight in pushing her husband's buttons for our amusement. That joy is rare.

I had this journal written in my head on the ride home tonight, but a guinness got the pc moving again. Here's to you, Mrs. B.

"May the road rise to meet you......"