In 1968 I was 18 years old and living in a city in Amerika, as described by William Gibson:
“This city had no specific locale, and its internal geography was mainly fluid. Its inhabitants nonetheless knew, at any given instant, whether they were
in the city or in America. The city was largely invisible to America. If
America was about "home" and "work," the city was about neither,
and that made the city very difficult for America to see. There may
have been those who wished to enter that city, having glimpsed it in
the distance, but who found themselves baffled, and turned back.
Many others, myself included, rounded a corner one day and found it
spread before them, a territory of inexpressible possibilities, a place
remembered from no dream at all. We would find that there were rules
there as well, but they would be different rules.”
It’s now 2018 and I am 68, I miss that city so deeply, and wish that you all could have lived there with me, the only time I even get a glimpse of it now, is when I stand bathed in the sonic modulations of the electric current. It’s the only gift I have anymore to give you and I invite you to share it with me once again in the backroom at Union Pool on my birthday Friday March 23. ( The title is from Roland Kayn)