Short stories, poems, and lyrics about people and places that have crossed my path through the years. From my childhood in Brooklyn in the 50s and 60s to the music business, the jobs I have had, the people I've met, and the decisions I've made. The stories range from riding the subways at nine and ten years old and the people I met while working as a staff writer for Columbia Records or song writing with the late Harry Chapin and lunch with John Lennon. The story you are about to read was written in what I call Brooklynese. It is a corruption of the English language, with its own lexicon, a dictionary of words, phrases, and thoughts taken from the streets. The words come out as if made by a blender-a tossed salad without the dressing. We tend to pronounce words phonetically, either because we can't spell or because we visually see the words but can't unscramble them in our brains. It's a challenging mix of English verbiage and Egyptian Hieroglyphics. Brooklynites use very few words and rattle them off at warp speed. We express our thoughts with a unique intensity as if we only had seconds to live. THE BROOKLYN SUBWAYS THE CALM POND SUMMER OF 65 or 'surfing on the wrong day' THE BUS TRIP FROM HELL OLD MAN AT THE AIRPORT A HOMELESS CHRISTMAS or 'the priest, a homeless man, and me.' THE BARRINGTON'S IT HAD NOT RAINED IN 50 YEARS * Lunch with John Lennon writing with Harry Chapin SCATTERED THOUGHTS
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