In about a week, we're going to Israel again. But before we get there, we're going to spend a couple of days in London. We plan to have a beer where we met.
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Which also means it's time for another London roommate story.
This guy was the king of London. Everyone knew him. He was handsome, and he was cool, and he didn't give a fuck. He didn't give a fuck about his friends, and we liked that about him. He went to India and pooped hash, and we thought it was cool. He once said the most romantic thing he'd ever done was share half an ecstasy pill with a woman he met in a club, and we thought he was cool. He gave this woman some money so she would marry him and he could stay in England, which was cool, although now he was married, which was a bit strange. They never saw each other after that day.
One Thursday, he went to a club he usually went to on Fridays, only to find out that on Thursdays there wasn't a rave, but some kind of hippie-poetry-performance night. He said there was some motherfucker with a beard sitting on a chair, and a bunch of hippies sitting in a circle around him, listening to his poetry. So my roommate took a pill, put on his headphones, and closed his eyes for a few hours. We found out later it was Allen Ginsberg's last UK performance.
There's actually a DVD of that performance. I wonder if my roommate is in the movie, sitting in the corner with his headphones on and his eyes closed, tapping his feet. Being too cool for Allen Ginsberg.
And then he met a nice girl and moved back to Israel with her. They got married. Someone saw him work in a shoe store. And I knew it was time for me to move on. Grow up. The crazy days were over.
11 comments:
Can't all just stay crazy and grow up? OK maybe the world won't be a better place but still why not?
that would have been amazing to witness!!
SJ, I don't know if you can stay crazy and grow up. You can call yourself crazy, and think of yourself as crazy, but that's not really crazy. The crazy I mean is a the-hell-with-it-all kind, where nothing matters but the moment, and no one matters but yourself. It was a hedonistic crazy that I would have gotten tired of with time anyway.
Ophelia, I know. Can you imagine being a witness to history and going for your walkman? Of course, if you didn't know who Ginsberg was or if you knew but didn't care, then he was just a guy who ruined your evening. Which is fair enough.
That's just class...
Xbox, you mean listening to your walkman when a great poet is giving his last show?
But all of these beat people were arrogant. Maybe they were all brilliant people who saw society for what it truly was and is, but you know if Allen Ginsberg was going to a club and didn't care for what he saw, he wouldn't have played along either. Maybe there are actually too few people who would put their headphones on, you know?
Such is always the way with Kings of (insert city here). You gotta either give it up and move on, or die young and be a legend for a few years.
Nobody thinks the old guy doing this stuff is cool anymore. C'est la vie, right?
Colorful character your old roomate.
I'm going to London myself in a couple of weeks for the first time ever. Send a must-do or two my way if you get a chance.
Have a good trip.
Last time I was in London I owned my little neighborhood. It took weeks for the locals to figure it out, but they did. And then I left and never went back. That was a great trip.
Dan, I think for me it was more than that. He sold shoes, like Al Bundy. Couldn't he just quit the clubs and the drugs and the random marriages, and come out stronger? He had to sell shoes?
Blues, first time ever? Man... First of all, who knows what has changed since the last time I was there? But assuming not much has changed, there's nothing like walking by the canal from Camden Lock to St. James Park, which is a beautiful park. I can't tell you much about the touristy stuff. Apparently there's a wax museum there, in case you want to see American families. Sit on the lawn in Leicester Square and look at people. If you want, you can look at them with scorn. Soho is good for expansive coffee. Take a night bus to see the real insanity. Do not say "Mind the Gap."
Mongoliangirl, you appeared on the scene, made things right, then disappeared. You're the guy from Quantum Leap!
I think I'll find a lawn around Houston somewhere today and look at people with scorn. That sounds like fun. :-)
Blues, I meant Regent's Park, not St. James! I'm a bad tour guide.
Jill, find a lawn in Houston, and say to people, "Mind the Gap!" And look really serious when you do that. Now that sounds like fun.
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