Monthly Archives: September 2021

TIME HAS COME TODAY by the Chambers Brothers

September 30, 2021 – 11:07 am

In the late-60s I attended a Catholic Boys high school ten miles away from my house. No buses or trains ran between the suburbs on the outskirts of Boston and only connection between these bedroom communities was Route 128 orbiting Boston from Nantasket Beach in the South Shore to the North Shore fishing port of […]

By Peter | Posted in 60s, boston, cars, Driving, myth, semi-fiction, youth | Tagged , , , , | Comments (0)

Postcards From Clover Nolan 1978

September 29, 2021 – 10:14 pm

In September on 1979 Clover Nolan, the sixteen year-old fille fatale from the dusty cotton fields of East Texas, announced her impending departure from New York and America. The blonde artist never explained her fascination with Mittel Europa and left never to be seen by her friends, although that winter I received two postcards from […]

By Peter | Posted in Letters | Tagged , | Comments (0)

September 29, 1978 – Journal Entry – East Village

September 29, 2021 – 12:58 pm

The Red Sox are a game out of first with six games to go. Few people in our scene care about sports, although Guadalcanal is a die-heard Yankees fan. They suck this year. Last night I went to party with Grant at Stan’s and ran into Vickie, a skinny blonde with a stutter. I have […]

By Peter | Posted in 70s, East Village, fights, journal | Tagged | Comments (0)

Excerpt From FAMOUS FOR NEVER by Peter Nolan Smith

September 29, 2021 – 12:53 pm

Late in the summer of 1978 an Upper East Side photographer asked me to write a photo-roman about a sadistic kidnapping. I cast my co-worker Klaus Sperber as the black leather villain. The Gothic singer was the daytime pastry chef at Serendipity 3. I was a busboy there and Anthony lived above the swishy ice […]

By Peter | Posted in 70s, East Village, semi-fiction | Tagged , , | Comments (0)

September 25, 1978 – Journal Entry – East Village

September 28, 2021 – 9:22 pm

Living in the shadow of the Blue Hill Meteorological Observatory during the 1960s I was obsessed with the weather created by the long chain of hills south of the Neponset River. Snow filled the woods in the winter, spring rain flooded the streams running across the overgrown farmland the bogs buzzed with mosquitoes in the […]

By Peter | Posted in East Village, Poetry, semi-fiction | Tagged , , , | Comments (0)