I’m going to borrow some text from my 2024 response to today’s prompt about which character from a book I’d like to be. But I’ve added text and deleted text because even after all these years, the answer is still a process that is unfolding. The answer is currently none. But it wasn’t always that way.
Folkie
I was selling my carvings at a folk music festival about twenty years ago. After things wrapped up that day, the headliner passed by my booth. He stopped, looked at me, and then looked again, “I know you…” I replied, ” Yeah, I know you too. In early April of ’65, you played at the Cafe Wha in the Village. I played across the street, in the basement, at the Cafe Why Not.” We spent a few seconds looking at each other, and then he smiled and said, “…yeah, but we both made it out alive…” Many of our peers did not.
We hadn’t just had an overnight acquaintance with the wild side. We weren’t even simple participants; we’d help create it.
Aftermath
In the 60’s, I discovered the fictional work of a fellow Folkie, Richard Farina. I had long been a fan of his and Mimi Farina’s musical work. But the main character in his novel Been Down So Long, It Looks Like Up To Me struck a bit more than a musical chord in lifestyles. The misadventures of a young Gnossos Papdapoulos and his rambles were more than familiar.
After my own misadventures, I put aside the character inย Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me,ย and found another loose alternative. But you can’t shed a lifestyle as easily as just taking a few showers. I put the character aside, but it didn’t necessarily put me aside.
Survival meant shedding my old habits. I eventually took up a quiet and peaceful life. Conventional is the term I use. Unlike most people living a conventional lifestyle, though I had visited the wild side frequently with great enthusiasm, I had a lot to compare conventionality with. Conventionality was boring, but not necessarily deadly. At one point, I almost lost my life. I certainly lost many loves, and had a chaotic, sometimes incredibly enjoyable time of it. But you eventually wear out on that life.
At various times, I was sat down by individuals who’d lived the life until it bit them, shook them, and then tossed them away. I was asked, “Do you want to wind up where I am?” Eventually, I replied, no.
So yes, there was a book that I admired, a lifestyle I loved, and a world that has passed. Do I have regret? Certainly, but if you offered me the chance to step back into my old greasy calfskin motorcycle boots, shoulder my pack, and guitar to hit the road, I’d be out of there so fast your head’d be spinning.
No thanks.
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In answer to your question- โDo you want to wind up where I am?โ my answer back in the day would have been- “yeah- still alive sounds good.” so glad we made it Lou, I know so many that did not…
“Still alive” is good — more than good. That Emily Lou Harris song, “Ain’t Livin’ Long Like This” kinda’ woke me up.
It was Livingston Taylor. We weren’t friends, just occasionally hung around at coffeehouses once in a while between sets. The Wha was a better venue than the Why Not across the street, but compared to other places we were both in the basement of the Village.
Aaah…
“Well, how did I get here?” (Once in a Lifetime, Talking Heads)
One of my favorite groups
Thanks, Martha, now I’ve got Talking Heads running through my head …” You got it, you got it…”
Oh god not that song… Make it stop!
OK, just for you.
Whew…
How about Psycho Killer?
I love that song. Psycho Killer or not, it looks like we escaped Life During Wartime (for now).