One last stand on the stage

Dylan, photographed by John Cohen

"So I find it very strange that you had such contact with Bob Dylan but never played together, did you? Did you two ever get together to play?"

"There was one time," John Cohen started. "It was 1962 - the Cuban missile crisis."

"It took the Cuban missile crisis for you two to play together?" Nora Guthrie (Woody's daughter, Arlo's sister) said.

 "Literally did. I got home, saw what was happening on TV, and thought this is the end of the world. The thing was, I didn't want to die there all on my own. So I headed over to the Gaslight and Dylan was up on stage. I said, "hey lets play some songs," and he said "sure what you want to play?" I said "You're going to miss me when I'm gone." You see? It was ironic, there was going to be no one to miss us."

Magicians at the Border

"You sure you're not smuggling cocaine? Cocaine or ebola or something?"

"I'm positive."

He starts thumbing my passport, pulling out all the papers that had ended up there: a paper coin for good luck, ticket stubs from old flights, a witch-doctor's flyer.

"Ai, Karamba," he says, puts it down and gets back to my passport. "Is this from Laos? This stamp from Laos?"

He had this NYPD cop thing that made every question mark feel like a finger to the chest or lightbulb in the eyes. I'm thinking this might be a problem but I can't lie or anything, it's right there: LAOTIAN VISA. So I hesitate, but say 'yes, yes it is.' And he goes:

"It's a beautiful stamp." I thank my paper coins and breathe a little easier. "Only problem is it takes a whole page.
"What were you doing there?
"Visiting?
"Alone?
"So I guess you're adventurous?
"Do you sleep under palm trees and stuff?
"And this?" He asks waving the flyer. "Do you call Professor Karamba when you go to Laos? Everytime you fly?"

And out of nowhere he starts translating it. Word for word - almost.

"There are no problems without solution. Spiritualist and scientist. Great medium psychic. Helps solve problems big or small in 7 days like love, failure, depression, business, injustice, marriages." He stops and looks up genuinely impressed. "Oh, wow. He solves sexual impotence too."

Silverstein himself once remarked of his itinerant lifestyle, “Comfortable shoes and the freedom to leave are the two most important things in life.”

The Giving Tree at fifty, by Ruth Margalit in The New Yorker

An Angel at the Rue des Pittas

I asked God how on Earth do you write, or read, a speech for a child that doesn't speak yet. The answer came a lot quicker than I had imagined.

"Tell them we love José Mourinho! Can you tell them? Will you?"

Seems to me the special one has some fans upstairs.

Statue leads us to believe this has always been a welcoming street for the thirsty.

A musing on monkey attacks

There is a feeling I get sometimes when I'm with very old friends or with my closest kin in which they bring up old stories that I'd forgotten. An afternoon I spent lost in some distant island, the hiking of a small mountain through mists so thick we were virtually blind, the numerous times I've been attacked by mokeys (in pretty much every continent by now), threatened by dealers (in pretty much every continent, too) or the happy conversation we struck with the fucked up, doped-out wretched creature who was trying to rob us.

I'm not going to be coy about this, it's a good feeling. It strikes a chord in my broken harp.

It reminds me that I have forgotten more adventures than many people will get to live. I'm okay with that.

Waiting for the subway to arrive

The old american couple sat next to me, rubbing heavy, rusty knees. They had a bad case of touristic exhaustion: I could tell by the thousand yard stare with which they looked at the empty subway tracks. Somewhat unlikely, but true nonetheless, mexican music was playing on the PA.

They didn't finish each others' sentences: they took turns in saying words, so that it was virtually impossible to keep track of who was saying what.

"Porto was fascinating.
"Fascinating.
"it was an older city.
"You could feel it.
"This is more of a metropolis.
"It's all spread out.
"Less impressive.
"Sure am glad this is the end of the trip," She said. "If it wasn't!"

Then the train arrived and I couldn't really make out if he answered "I'm needing my shocks" or "need to change socks." I suppose one's just as likely as the other. I got on one carriage and they got on another.

I'm going to be very honest here: I liked the old couple and I was sorry to see them go. But that's life for you, I suppose.

photograph taken by Maria Furtado

I dreamt of a world where love had been outlawed. 

The sex was incredible.