I love this city.
This week alone I have been to Lincoln Center and heard the ultimate cosmic goodness that is Michael Palin read and talk about his life in the circus of Monty Python. The trek was ardous and strewn with the incomprehensible color coding of the NYC subways but I made it and back and was delirously happy. I hadn't believed the man actually exsisted until i saw him in person.
I just, heard, saw, and was the amazing David Amram who spoke about his expierences with Jack Kerouac at the Bowery Poetry Center in the Village. One slighty schizoid BBC talk show host in tight black pants made the evening hilarious, but this man, a Soprano's actor made the evening golden. His readings from Kerouac made me happy, made me think, made me feel...the man damn near made me cry when he read the farewell passage between Kerouac and Cassidy which is all the more poignant because its one sided and deep. The improv between the musicians (6-7 depending on the mood of the sax) and the poets forced you to groove.
Charlie Parker, Pull my Daisy, Life on the ROad, Mrs. Keurac, hip my angel, girls in white underpants, Egyptian flutes, Native Indian drums, the man of a thousand instruements, being in Colorado under the endless night in the roof of the world, the eastern wilderness
Thursday, September 6, 2007
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