On March 1st 1973, Alf and I were sitting in my room wondering
what to do that day. We had a few bucks in our pockets and decided to go to the only place where we could just walk around
to have a good time, New York City.
That afternoon, as we were walking past Jack Dempsey's restaurant, I happened to
glance at a window poster advertising the group Badfinger.
They would be playing that very evening at Carnegie Hall.
Lets go see if we can get in."
We were excited. These guys had the whole package, great rock and roll, great
melodies, tight harmonies, great Musicianship and several hit records. I really dug "No Matter What."
It was one of my favorites tunes at the time.
Whatever "It" was, Badfinger had it in spades.
We went over to Carnegie Hall knowing there wood probably be scalpers plying their
trade and that meant a shot at getting in.
Tickets ranged from about three to six dollars, a tidy sum in those days.
The problem was that we only had a few bucks.
I turned to Alf to gauge his vibes but he was already way ahead of me. When
It took a while but we finally made the Entrance Fee and bounded up the stairs.
The Ushers pointed the way and we followed instructions, climbing higher and higher,
further and further away from the stage.
Our seats were in the "Nose Bleed Section" and from up there the stage looked like a postage stamp.
This wasn't going to do at all.
I saw Alf squirming.
"Come on Davey, we can't sit here."
We stepped out
in the corridor only to be met by an usher who told us to go back to our seats but when his back was turned we ran down a
flight of stairs to a lower level.
Once there, we were confronted by a female usher who told us we would have to
go back upstairs. We turned and walked toward the stairs then opened a door and slipped inside.
the balcony, we had a great view of the stage.
problem was that there were no extra seats and we knew that we'd be discovered and booted out.
Going with the flow, we followed the railing to the end of the balcony, climbed
over and brazenly hung-jumped down to the lower level.
The show was just starting, everyone was in their seats and Alf and I were going for broke.
Amid the opening chorus we sauntered down the main aisle keeping our eyes peeled for any empty seats.
Amazingly, right up front, we saw two seats
and plopped down in the 3rd Row!!!
It was like seeing Badfinger play in their own living room and they didn't
disappoint, in fact they Rocked!
we sat there soaking up every note to every song they pounded out......
"No Matter What," "Come and Get
It," "Day After Day." Wow!!! Great stuff....
When the show was over we walked
down to 42nd St. still reveling in the Vibes.
We had just enough money for a couple beers then made our way over to the Lincoln Tunnel, stuck out a thumb
and hitchhiked home.
we hithchiked through the Lincoln Tunnel....
It was just a normal night in New York for me and Alf......
The Dugout , McSoreley's and the Spontaneous Jam
were also peregrinations to Greenwich Village that provided a good therapeutic kick in the ass.
We'd walk through the streets bedazzled, past storefronts decked out with
Psychedelic posters of Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles and Janis Joplin.
We'd hit the old places like The Dugout on Bleeker St. and listen to music while
drinking prodigious amounts of beer.
The Dugout had giant barrels of peanuts free for the taking and we'd stuff our pockets full.
It was always a pleasant experience to be hitchhiking a week later and suddenly
find a handful of peanuts in the bottom of your coat pocket.
We were sure to hit McSoreley's too,
where they served platters of saltines, slabs of cheese and slices of onions For Free as an inducement to get you to drink
more beer.(as if we needed the encouragement)
One night in New York in particular was memorable.
I was with Alf, my brother and another friend. We were walking down a Village
street when we came upon a guy playing Guitar in the archway of an Apartment Building.
We stopped to listen, liked what we heard and started asking for requests,
finally settling on "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" by Dylan.
There was something in the air that
night, the Universe perfectly aligned as that song rolled off our tongues
and we took turns with the verses.
the Guitar played we layered each chorus with harmonies that welled up and changed the atmosphere around us.
passing by were stopping to listen and at each interval I whipped out my G Harp and blew the solo which I knew by
When we were
finished with the song we started it over again and repeated it several more times, not wanting to let go of the magic .........
Many nights as we headed back to Jersey an introspective Stream of Consciousness would flow through
It was close to
a Meditative State, creative and inspiring but tinged with sadness.
Once home, I would flop on the bed, grab a pen and record my innermost
thoughts before going to sleep.......
They were Poetic Points of reference for my weary soul.......
my personal road maps........and all I had in the world......