Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Photos

Walking past The Plaza and into Central Park Walking past The Plaza and into Central Park

(Photos by Bald Punk – Wollman Rink)  This is fourth in a series of Central... 


Central Park Trees Central Park Trees

(Photos by Bald Punk) I didn’t want these photos to be lost with the rest... 


Central Park by West 67th St Central Park by West 67th St

(Photos by Bald Punk) I took these photos the same day I took these:  Bethesda... 


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Everything Else

Olde New York Olde New York

  (Olde New York video) Documentaries are cool. I like the fact that given modern... 


NEW YORK – SEX PISTOLS NEW YORK – SEX PISTOLS

  (“New York” live) There are loads of great, great punk rock bands.... 


Henry Miller on New York Henry Miller on New York

(Henry Miller) In the video Henry Miller really tears into the Big Apple. But... 


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Stories

Music of the Night Music of the Night

  (U2 – “Hands That Built America” – Music Video by Bald Punk) We went out the other night down in the East Village. It doesn’t matter where. Nothing matters right now. It was red. Okay. The place was all red. Those darn clubs all have red lights and I can’t tell one from the other. Sometimes it’s cool. But not when you’re... [Read more of this story]


Dreaming of Lincoln Dreaming of Lincoln

(Abraham Lincoln) I met this kid who looked like Abraham Lincoln. I’m still referring to him as a kid even though he was a junior in college and 6’4.” Fresh-faced with an uncanny presence, he said his name was Alexander and that his nickname was Buddy. I called him Alex. It wasn’t until our second meeting when I caught him off-guard with a... [Read more of this story]


A Stranger No More . . . A Stranger No More . . .

Last weekend I met this emo kid who wasn’t so much a kid. Very tall and gaunt, with the look of a man twice his age, my guess is that he was either a college freshman or a runaway. Our conversation lasted a few minutes, and with all the spiritual activity in NYC, I should have forgotten about him. But his face continues to surface in my memory. I’m... [Read more of this story]


THE FIRST MISTAKE THE FIRST MISTAKE

As a rule I avoid talking to strangers, and my guard goes up when they talk to me. The most an interloper will get out of muah is a furrowed brow or at best, a grumble. Yesterday I not only broke my rule, I initiated a conversation. And now I find myself unable to get the stranger’s face out of my head–who actually was a kid, not much older... [Read more of this story]


The Elephant and the Looking Glass The Elephant and the Looking Glass

(Central Park photos by Bald Punk) Under twilight skies I climbed into a horse-drawn carriage, bowed my head below the canopy and plopped down in the rear seat. Not a second later the driver snapped the reins and gave a curt whistle. The horse snorted, sending up a plume of smoke. The carriage jutted forward to the steady clop of hooves, shaking... [Read more of this story]


Barnum in Central Park Barnum in Central Park

(Photos by Bald Punk – Central Park W & 72nd St)  I could retrace my steps to this morning and point out little signs that indicated something otherworldly lay in my path. Not that what ensued was earth-shattering. I had another encounter with a ghost. Yet it’s interesting to note how sometimes when I have such a meeting, I find that I’m... [Read more of this story]


Search for Scrappy D! Search for Scrappy D!

(Photos by Bald Punk – Scrappy D) The door opened to our apartment. Seated on the couch, I craned my neck to see the pizza and Chinese delivery guys(aka num and nuts) in the doorway, shrieking and rambling louder than usual–looking like two parakeets whose cage was being rattled. I searched by their feet for Scrappy D, who they had... [Read more of this story]


Bigger than The Babe Bigger than The Babe

(Babe Ruth at bat) We were parked on River Ave in the shadow of the new Yankee Stadium. Scrappy D had his hind legs on my thigh and his snout was against the window. I ran my fingers up and down his back. Sitting next to me, my lady friend(LF) hoped her sister wouldn’t be mad at us. We were supposed to be at her apartment in Greenpoint an hour... [Read more of this story]


Living on a Thin Line Living on a Thin Line

(Babe Ruth in the film, Headin’ Home, 1920 )  I can understand if you don’t believe all the stuff that happens to me. All I can say is ‘good thing I don’t live in New Jersey,’ then I probably wouldn’t believe it either. The only way I can explain it is to say, NYC is different. I know that. And you only know what you know.... [Read more of this story]


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