I had to go to New York to see about a girl. She had already been to Seattle to see about me. We walked around, we talked, we kissed – she went back home. For some weeks – maybe months – we wrote letters, long-hand, back and forth. And then I went to NYC.
Actually, our rendezvous was Hastings upon Hudson, a quaint little hamlet to the North, a beautiful old house up high, overlooking the river – her sister’s house. We trained down to The City one day. We got lost walking around, trying to figure out the Village, and ducked into a well-treed park to escape the sun. It was August – hot and humid and crowded – the tall trees looked like heavenly shade. It was hot and humid in the shade.
We came upon a little stage constructed in the sweltering sun, with a crowd starting to gather. Something was going to happen! We waited, holding hands.
About 11 musicians suddenly appeared on stage and began strumming, banging, blowing, plucking, and bowing. The singer screamed into a bullhorn, his microphone held up to the loud end, giving him a muffled, garbled, loud and pleasing presence.
I asked a short woman, “Who is this?”
“World/Inferno Friendship Society,” she smiled brightly.
It was a sort of punk-swing, ska-klezmer orchestra. The men wore black tuxedos, the women wore long black dresses, and the local punks formed a mosh pit in the oppressive heat.
Everybody sweat.
“If anyone here is without sin, they would’ve gone home already.”
“Only Anarchists Are Pretty”
“Me Vs. The Angry Mob”
“Addicted to Bad Ideas” This is a whole concert – good sound and good video. !!!!
