Today is Wednesday, June 18, 2025. Yesterday, as I expressed here the day earlier, I was probably going to be absent from this venue since Elliot and I were out having drinks with our newest friend “Barry” at the oldest gay bar, Julius’s. We were expected to meet Barry around 5:45, so we left Queens around 4 in order to spend a little time in the West Village before going to our appointed destination. We first had coffee at a place on 6th Avenue near the IFC Center and then we walked to Three Lives & Company, a West 10th Street bookstore. No, I did not purchase another book this time. But I did take a photo of a new hardcover nonfiction book called Eminent Jews by David Denby that I found quite interesting. The book examines the lives and works of such eminent Jews like Leonard Bernstein, Mel Brooks, Betty Friedan, and Norman Mailer. There’s no telling, even, if I would ever buy this book since I’m knee-deep in this month’s gay men’s reading club selection, Evenings & Weekends, by Oisin McKenna. I’m already halfway through the book and I just began it on Father’s Day, June 15. I’m almost at 200 pages in.

We got to the bar close to 5:30 and we sat outside a short while before I decided to enter the establishment. When I did, I saw Barry sitting at a small round table by the window nursing a drink. I then called Elliot to come into the bar and he did. We all hugged and greeted each other with kisses and wide smiles and then sat down, immediately ordering a side of French fries for the table and nonalcoholic drinks for Elliot and myself. Then we filled each other in on what was happening in all of our lives. We hadn’t seen Barry for a very long time, I think since last year, but most of it had to do with Barry going back home to Pittsburgh (where he was born and raised) to help with the care of his father who suffered a fall in his house, breaking a hip. He had also done some traveling, as well as we did. I asked Barry how old his father is, and I gulped when he said, “68,” where I blurted that this is about my age. Barry just smiled at me when I confessed this.

We must have chatted for close to 90 minutes since we ordered another round of drinks and French fries. Unfortunately, Barry had to leave early since he still had to work tomorrow, though he said he was off on Thursday, which is Juneteenth. So we couldn’t have dinner at the bar (their food is not generally great, anyway), so Elliot and I decided to have supper at the Bus Stop Cafe, on Hudson Street. We knew of this place from many years ago, even before the pandemic, so we bid adieu to Barry and walked further West.

The walk took about 10 minutes or so. I had to put on my phone GPS, which still didn’t prevent us from asking a passerby for directions anyway. The Bus Stop Cafe is a glorified diner and the prices are, for the most part, reasonable. So I ordered the eggplant parmigiana and a cup of chicken soup. I couldn’t finish my entree’, so I brought half of it home. I did order coffee which wasn’t that good, unfortunately.

The time wasn’t too late, sometime close to 8:30, so I decided to do something different: go to a gay bar – the Monster – which I haven’t done in quite a long time. Elliot was content to go home, and I said goodbye to him by the bar. I peered into the window to see if the bar was crowded or not, and I did see people enjoying each other’s company, so I decided to enter the Monster without missing a step. The security person at the door had to look at my ID, and I had to laugh over this.

Since I really don’t drink, I went to the rear of the bar to listen to the pianist. I thus stood around looking awkward and just listened to the volunteers who took the mic to sing their hearts out. I talked to no one and no one talked to me. I gave myself a half CBS News

I’m not sure what time I got home. I lucked out with getting an E train to Forest Hills at the West 4th Street station. But I was too pooped to write my blog last night. Excuse me!

Boy, in just one day, the mental deficient president is now almost approving attack plans on Iran, which must horrify everyone here in this country. He told reporters today that he had not made a final decision on whether to strike the country. This is what the dementia-addled president said about declaring war on another country that has nuclear weapons. “I like to make the final decision one second before it’s due, because things change, especially with war. I may do it. I may not do it. I mean, nobody knows what I’m going to do.” Is he contemplating whether to have spaghetti or not in this telling moment? You wouldn’t think he was actually weighing a crucial decision to put American troops at risk in a very dangerous endeavor. It sounds like he has no idea what he intends to do. Iran has said that it would “respond to any threat with a counter-threat.” This is madness that can hurdle us into World War III. Where are the rational lawmakers out there who can stop this crazed man? These quotes are selected from an online article in CBS News by James LaPorta entitled “Trump approved attack plans for Iran – but hasn’t made final decision to strike.”

So, hey, folks, all I can say is try to enjoy yourselves before we declare ourselves fighting in a Middle Eastern conflict that we shouldn’t ever be contemplating in the first place. You can thank this wishy-washy president who is accurately nicknamed “TACO”(Trump Always Chickens Out) Dump. Now he can’t even decide about thrusting the U.S. into a Middle Eastern war which is undoubtably not the right thing to do. The right thing to do in this situation is impeach the dumb bastard, in my humble opinion, before World War III does break out.

And just this from Lawrence O’Donnell, who on tonight’s show, The Last Word, just said about the so-called president: today he thought that the Declaration of Independence was written during the Civil War! Can you believe the stupidity here? Any third grader knows when both events occurred, or I should hope. But this president originally thought that the Continental Army had airports? Huh? Is he mentally all there? There is a YouTube clip of him actually saying this at one of his Nuremberg rallies. Go check it out.

And so it went!

Here is the book I was interested in at Three Lives & Company, on West 10th Street. Oops, you can see a glimpse of my red sneakers here too.