Please allow me to write some sappy "when I was young" crap for just one moment. More pictures are coming soon, I promise…
Isn't it a shame that we can't catch lightning in a bottle? A
moment? A fleeting "feeling" that escapes us with age/life/"maturity"?
Maybe even just one night from the club scene back then when everything just seemed alive and full of motion?
I find myself thinking back to those days, especially lately as I
go through all these photos and try to regain some of that emotion of a
particular time or place, like when I was leaving my house at night,
heading to the subway to hit a club, wondering
who would be out, thinking of both the people you wanted to see and
those you didn't.
It was that period of life before "age" squashed possibility,
before "time" made you shed that youthful exuberance that made the
anticipation of every night a drug you just couldn't give up on, not even
for one night in case you missed something "special"
and would have to hear about it from your friends who "were there!" God
forbid, right?
I used to love those cold nights as I was making my way to the
club, freezing, but not walking fast because of the cold, but walking
fast because I was just beside myself with excitement to hang out and
dance until the wee hours of the morning or yap about
what was then so important in my life, no matter how trivial it seems now. "To Hell" with how I was going
to painfully pay for it the next day at work or at school because of lack of
sleep. That never mattered. The only thing that mattered was another
night to hang out at Limelight, the Building, Pyramid, wherever.
So what if I'd be miserable tomorrow trying to focus on a paper with only
two hours sleep and "Stiff Stuff" still knotted up in my hair. Who cares? So what if I'd feel like shit tomorrow
because I just have to be at "New York Nights"
at the Pyramid and see performances by Psychotic Eve or Michael T. Yeah
it's a Monday night, but fuck it, I can catch an hours sleep on the
train ride home, and hour at home, and a half hour on my way to school.
That's not bad for now right? I can catch up
on sleep later on tomorrow when I get home…Oh wait! Shit... There's no way I'm
missing "Communion". Ugh. Ok, I PROMISE myself to get some sleep on
Wednesday. Yeah Wednesday. I'll sleep for hours and catch up then. ("Oh
wait, didn't Aimee say she wanted to hang out Wednesday?
I better ask her tonight and make sure…")
And so it went week after week, running ourselves ragged to hang out at our clubs.
Remember when we'd show up early to get those few drinks from the
open bar, then when the cut off hit we'd disappear to the dance floor
and lose ourselves for a few hours between gossiping with whomever we
were hanging out with or twirling or stomping
around as we were trying to keep our breath, hoping the buzz wasn't
killed with some lame-ass Morrissey or Big Audio Dynamite song?
(Oddly enough I always remember the Building killing any buzz I had with Big Audio Dynamite! Strange, but seemed to happen every fucking week!)
I still have certain nights that stick out, not because of some
"incredible happening", but just for their sublime "same old same old"
of the time, which is really gone forever. I remember getting to
Limelight late one Tuesday, and just hanging out
with Aimee in the coat check all night, chatting and watching the
people coming in and out. I can't even remember why we were there,
loving every second instead of out on the dance floor. But that's
exactly why it sticks out to me. We were so entrenched in
that scene that even spending the entire night in coat check was STILL
hanging out, being a part of what we were living.
I'll also never forget that night in 1991 in front of Pyramid when
the "second riot" was going on, and Michael T, Amanda, Aimee and I,
along with so many others from the "Black Lips" crew, spent the entire
night outside, watching the cops gather ranks
while the squatters were building their flaming barricades on Avenue A.
The funny thing was it ended up being quite uneventful, but we all
still had an awesome night talking, shooting the shit on a nice late
Spring night waiting for the apocalypse. It never came (sometimes sadly, I think)…
I also still remember the routines of the everyday, like Ian
Donahoe religiously showing up at Bleeker Bob's as I was finishing one
of my shifts, and he always had two 40 ounce bottles of St. Ides or
Crazy Horse: one for me, and one for him. And we would
take our time and slowly drink and walk up 6th avenue toward Limelight,
or over to the East side on our way to Stigmata or even the Mission.
Man, when you could "brown bag it" and get nicely lit up while still
enjoying the people-watching out on the street.
There really is something to be said about drinking out in the fresh
air as you're walking somewhere with a friend. I miss that more and more
as it gets further and further away from me.
Then there were the moments in life created back then because of
the friendships made at clubs, like the "Twin Peaks" marathons at
Aimee's parent's house out in Jackson Heights, or going out for an
"Apple-Cinnamon Cheerios" (or was it "Apple Jacks"?!)
run at 2am because it was all we wanted at that very moment, loving
every second of it as we walked back up 1st Avenue towards the Hunter dorms,
ripping the box open and crunching on them with every step.
Hey Aimee, remember that cat in the window of that store? It was
basking in the glory of being adored as we "oohed and aaahhed" until it
stretched and lost it's balance and flopped over in the most
unceremonious way? Absolutely perfect! I STILL laugh at
that from time to time.
I remember that night on the Staten Island ferry, coming back from
Randi's house, running into Oscar and Debbie, and we just cruised the
bay back to NYC catching up on the little gossip we each had since the
last time we saw each other. Just a nice little
random moment that was tied to and a product of being part of that
scene.
Hey, any of you guys out there who used to come play pool with me
at "Le Q" on 13th street near University?! I'm talking about Ian, Jarek,
Rob, Jay, even Weege! Remember how the grumpy owner used to let us have one
of the private rooms downstairs, and we'd bring
bottles of Malt Liquor and have our own little party in there? I swear I
don't know if we got those rooms because the dude liked us or because
he HATED the way we looked and wanted us out of sight! Ha!
Anyway, I wonder if any of you ever try to explain it all to some
people, getting wrapped up in what it all was and how it felt, and
feeling like you failed miserably because they're looking at you like it
was all "ho-hum". Yeah I know it's the same for
everyone as they get older and they try to recollect whatever it was
they were a part of in their teens or early 20's, but doesn't it seem
like such a waste that the only thing really documenting that period is
all the "guilty by association" Michael Alig/Club
Kid/ Disco 2000 crap?
Oh well, as times goes by it feels like it was all some crazy dream
and I find myself trying to make sure I remember every bit of it, which of
course is just laughable. I can only cringe at the thought of what I've
already forgotten. Better left lost I guess…
Or maybe not…
What a time it was.
