May 8, 1978

Back in April Johny Blitz of the Dead Boys was attacked on Second Avenue by people unknown. He was stabbed five times and luckily survived after a miraculous Emergency Room operation. In order to pay his hospital bills, Arturo Vega organized a thirty band Johnny Blitz benefit. Blondie closed out the shows at CBGBs with a cover of a Donna Summer hit. The club was packed the house four nights, despite rumors of funds being siphoned off for a continuous party. Even I paid. At least their drummer survived the attack and will be back with the Dead Boys soon.

New York remains our city.

The hippies had been forced into the country by the rising tide of crime and police brutality. The hinterlands were beautiful, but real farms are run with machines and chemical fertilizers and poisonous pesticides.

Punks have come back to the skeleton cities to recolonize Harlem, the East Village, Detroit, and LA.

Capitalism seems ripe for a fall, as the Kremlin plots take-overs in Afghanistan, Angola, Mozambique, and Ethiopia, but the Soviet people don’t have frisbees, GTOs, skateboards, Malibu blondes, or punk. They live on vodka. They will never beat us on the drag strips or baseball fields. On the hockey ice they Red Army machine is triumphant, but winter doesn’t last forever. Not even in Siberia.

Alice’s father is in town tonight and we will meet at Act 1.

Tomorrow night my parents are visiting setting up a meeting between our parents.


Marilyn was the epitome of American beauty in the early 60s. She was sex. Blonde and soft. She seemed sad. I don’t think anyone made her happy. Both RFK and JFK are rumored to have had affairs with her. She died in 1962. Supposedly of a drug overdose. Norma Jean should be with us.

In 1978.


After the benefit Alice was sick on the street. She had once more drank past her limit. She wanted to be alone and handed me $10.

“For a taxi.”

“Come with me and I’ll take of you.”

“No, you only want to fuck me. Same as always. I’m just a hole for you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Leave me alone.” She got in a cab and it took her into the night.

It felt like she was paying me for service and I walked back to the SRO to sleep listening to the radio.

A pillow to hold instead of her.

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