Author Archives: Peter

Open City declared Peter Nolan Smith an underground punk legend of the 1970s East Village. The New England native spent many years as a nightclub doorman in New York, Paris, London, and Hamburg. The constant traveler has lived for long periods of time in Europe and the Far East. After a forced retirement from the Schmatta trade in Thailand, Peter Nolan Smith returned to New York to work in the international diamond trade. At summer’s end he resumed the life of a writer. The world’s leading leisureologist is currently based in Sri Racha, Thailand, Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and Luxembourg City. He has no address.

Drunk in Moscow, Not Idaho

In 1994 I was traveling from Malaysia to Paris on Aeroflot. Kuala Lumpur-Karachi-Dubai-Moscow-Paris. The flight time to Moscow totaled about 24 hours. None of them were comfortable in the flimsy chairs of the Soviet era jetliner. Disembarking at Moscow, I discovered that my connecting flight to Charles De Gaulle was delayed until the next morning. […]

The Smell Of Durian

Many Asian foods are alien to westerners. Insects, horseshoe crab eggs, and sum tam or spicy mango salad easily come to mind as foreign to the tongues of farangs, however the most unacceptable Oriental delicacy is the ever-malodorous durian. The stench of this squishy fruit is so disagreeable to non-aficionados that durian joined hand grenades […]

Beer Is Better Than Jesus

Top Ten Reasons That Beer Is Better Than Jesus: a) No one will kill you for not drinking beer. b) Beer doesn’t tell you how to have sex. c) They don’t force beer on minors who cannot think for themselves. d) Beer has never caused a major war. e) When you have a beer you […]

Palm Sunday

According to the old Judean calendar the Christian messiah entered the Roman occupied city of Jerusalem on the seventh day of Nisan during the reign of Augustus Caesar. Jesus or Yeshua Bin Joseph symbolically rode a donkey as opposed to a horse, since the former was considered a sign of peace. while the horse was […]

Palm Beach Sunday

In June 1 2008 I was living on Palm Beach. A barrier island off the Florida coast. So many of the mega-rich had migrated to their summer haunts of the Hamptons, Nantucket, and the South of France that the Sunday night streets of this exclusive resort felt, as if the Khmer Rouge had marched the […]