I’m bored. It’s about 80 degrees and sunny out, so I should be happy and all, but I’m not. Since I’m bored, I’ve been thinking about my childhood, and all the times I was bored during my childhood. I remember that whenever I would tell my father I was bored, he would say, “Clean out the garage.” He’s real witty, right? I guess parents in Hudson County can’t use that line because nobody has a garage. Or maybe they say, “Go clean out Garage B.” Now that could keep a kid busy. So what do you think of the names of new housing developments around here? Back in the suburbs where I’m from, the developments have names like “Ellen Glen” and “Heath Creek” and “Whispering Woods.” Around here, they’ve been naming them after what preceded them: The Shipyard, the Propeller Building, the Tea Building. What are they going to call the building where Maxwell House used to be – Caffeine Heights? Beantown Commons? Did you know that the guy in charge of the areas where they used to make the coffee was called the supervisor of “buildings and grounds”? Get it? I was wondering something the other day. It was really windy, and I saw small plastic bags open and fly through the air. I’m sure you’ve seen this, too. Do you think we can harvest these bags as some sort of transportation across the river? You know, I always see posters around town for “gate sales.” Why are all these people selling their gates? Who wants to buy a gate, anyway? Vie geht’s? Gut. Und dir? That was a little German for you. That’s all I know because I took Spanish in high school instead. I can’t speak much of that either. I do remember how to say is “Puedo ir al bano?” To which the response is, “I don’t know, can you?” Geez, it’s hot out. At least, when I write this, it is. It probably won’t last. That’s the thing about weather: it’s always changing. They should have industries devoted to betting on the weather: highs, lows, etc. Whole crime families could develop around this. You could hear Frankie Fahrenheit over at the club barking at Sammy Snowflake, “Hey, don’t ask me about my barometer.” I have this neighbor, Tony Calzoni, who fights with me all the time over important issues like that one. Tony is home a lot because he used to work on the Turnpike, and one day, a plastic orange cone sprang up and hit him in the groin, so he’s been out on disability for quite a long time. He will probably tell you more about that in a Back Page essay some day soon. He also has a pet armadillo. More on that some other time. Anyway, Tony and I were fighting the other day about the sopranos. He thinks they sound better than altos, while I tend to lean toward baritones. Well, I have to go. I’m going to go clean out the Port Authority now. – Piggy Rabinowitz