They Call Me The Wanderer

Oh, I’m the type of guy who will never settle down.

Where pretty girls are, well you know that I’m around…

-Dion DiMucci

I haven’t written in a while and you probably think I haven’t been doing much. Quite the opposite. I’ve been busy – very busy. I’ve been on a long road trip.

First stop was Philadelphia. I’ve passed through Philly Station dozens of times since I moved to Lancaster, but last week, I finally got off the train there and took a look around.

I was headed to Meg’s Birthday Party. I met Meg in an acting class at the Fulton Theatre. She works as a barmaid in Philly, so when she invited me to her 20-something Birthday Party, I knew the party would be worth a road trip.

The fun started at The Monkey Bar, where she works. When I got there the bartender saw me with a present in my hand.

“We’re holding all the presents behind the bar,” he said, while pointing to the stack of presents behind the bar.

I handed mine to him, and he got me a drink.

“How much?” I asked.

“No charge for people in the party.”

“Cool,” I said.  “People in the party.  Hot Hot Hot,” I thought.

I’m not sure how many beers I had or how many people I talked to before I realized that this wasn’t Meg’s birthday party. The sign saying, “Congratulations on your Graduation” should have been a big tipoff, but maybe my thinking was clouded by the free beers.  It’s been known to happen in the past.

When I realized that I was at the wrong party, I offered to pay for my drinks, but the bartender just laughed it off. I told him I was a friend of Meg’s and he told me that Meg’s party was moved to O’Neal’s Pub on South Street, and handed me back my present.

I called Meg and let her know I was on my way.

Remember that old song, “Where do all the hippies meet. South Street…South Street”?

Well, I had always wondered why they wrote a song about hippies meeting at the South Street Seaport. Now I know that they wrote it about South Street, Philadelphia. It was jumping. There were bars everywhere and they were all packed with people having a great time.

I found Meg and she introduced me to her friends. Then Karaoke started. Well, I used to be quite the regular at Karaoke in New York, so I let them “twist my arm” into singing a song. The songbook didn’t cater to old fogies, though. I couldn’t find Johnny B Goode by Chuck Berry, or The Wanderer by Dion. Those were my songs back in the day. I also used to sing a little Garth Brooks, but this wasn’t a country crowd so I didn’t even try to find Friends in Low Places in the playbook.

Fortunately, the birthday girl rescued me and together we sang Sonny & Cher’s I Got You Babe. “They say we’re young, and we don’t know. Won’t find out until we grow.”  Yeah, that’s me – young and foolish.

Next stop on my tour was Twin Lakes Connecticut for a reunion with my dance partners from many years of L.A.M. dances for charity. (L.A.M is a lung disease that kills young women.) Marianne, Geralyn, Maria, and I were usually the first ones on and the last ones off the dance floor at the annual benefit. Brian, who organized the first 5 fundraisers, joined us. His wife Dawn was a victim of the disease and we played Dancing Queen in her honor.

We stayed indoors and drank a toast to everyone we could think of while a brief rain shower passed by.  (It poured.)  Then, when the clouds went away we hopped on Geralyn’s pontoon boat at took a booze cruise around the lake. Ooo ee oo ee baby. Won’t you let me take you on a (booze) cruise…”  We were all singing and dancing, and the next thing I remember…well, it was when we were going to breakfast.

Next stop I went to Windsor Terrace in Brooklyn with Marianne – Farrell’s Bar & Grill. The Theatre Group at The Cell is going to put on a play in September that uses Farrell’s as the setting.  Stoopdreamer.  So, they were on an exploratory mission, and I was only trying to keep my buzz going.

Farrell’s Bar and Grill doesn’t actually have a grill, I don’t think. If they do, it hasn’t been used since 1944, and then only for 2 weeks. However, they’re surrounded by food places, and you can bring food in and enjoy it with one of their famous 32 ounce Budweisers. I got a pastrami sandwich across the street that may have been the best pastrami sandwich I ever had. Pastrami, bacon, and Swiss on a sesame bagel. It almost clogs my stents just to say it.  I also learned that until recently there weren’t any barstools in the place.  If you couldn’t stand it was time for you to go home.

Then I went home for a few days to recharge my batteries – Literally. Cell phones, laptops, and all that stuff need TLC. Then, I ventured back to Long Island to take my ex-wife Ginny out for her birthday. After all these years we’re still friends, but our lawyers still aren’t speaking to one another.

The next day I took the train to Hicksville and my friend Linda treated me to an early birthday lunch at Eleanor Rigby’s in Mineola. Linda and I met at Karaoke many many years ago. She does the best version of the Clarence Carter song, Strokin’. That used to kill them at Ziegfield’s and at The Knights of Columbus Karaoke. We were regulars back then, and knew all the songs. Nowadays I look through the songbook and I can’t find one I know.

I’m sure I’ll get a chance to sing at the next event, though. My nephew DJ (aka Nephew X) is getting married on Friday and I’m heading to New York for the wedding. The out-of-town attendees will be staying at the Hilton Garden Inn in Plainview of Thursday and Friday. I’m not sure if they have karaoke in the hotel bar, but one might break out.

Then I’m going to a delayed Scrabbletonian Party in New Jersey on Saturday with my friends Barbara and Jim. When I lived in New Jersey we used to go to the Hambletonian on the first Saturday in August every year. This year we missed it. The winner was Pinkman.  (Like you didn’t already know that.  LOL)

So, that’s what’s been happening. I’ve been out wandering. Now, I’ve got to run along. I’ve got to pack my bag for another road trip.

Congratulations and Good luck DJ & Stacy

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl