Not a problem, dear sir. My finger hits two keys at the same time more often than not, or the bar in between. I'm used to it and so are most of the others. I was in the City often back then, installing shows at up and coming avant guard galleries for my wife and then zoom back to LA after hearing over and over,"Man, you should have been here last week" What a world. LA is close, but so spread out, t takes a real effort to hit more than three places in one night, when in the Village, it is a reasonable walk or shot run on the A train and you can fill up the whole night.
I do miss it. I could read a piece of yours every night. Love your writing.
You were really in the Scene. What fun that had to be. We have Mailer in common - and that's it. The music people were minimally part of my life. I interviewed Alice Cooper, smoked a joint with Mama Cass, and lived next door to Dylan's drummer in the Palisades. My moment of shame re music was when I was 16 and with my father at the Intercontinental in San Juan. I remember calling the front desk to complain that from the room next door I was hearing/feeling vibrations. The person said, "Madame, that is Pablo Casals practicing." Sorry to have made this place into Twitter, but couldn't resist.
I love this Lucian. I was living the same love of music and poetry on the west coast at that time. Spent many nights at the Fillmore and Avalon in San Francisco entrenched in the music and stories of the late 60s and early 70s. Not quite as intimate as yours but experienced some incredible music and soul searching(that may have been the psychedelics). I saw Bob Dylan perform and would have loved to meet him. My only claim to fame was being backstage with Jim Morrison when he said “ Hey little girl and offered me a hit from his whiskey bottle”. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker but had a sip anyway.
Heh. My brother was in the record biz and took me to a concert by Little Village in LA. We went backstage, lots of stars. I just stood there drinking a bottle of water and goggling. Set it down on the table, reached for it--someone else had picked it up and was drinking it. Bonnie Raitt. What struck me was how LITTLE she is. I abandoned the bottle.
I did, too. My class had several perish in VN, including my best friend's brother. I was close enough to go to NYC, but DC wasn't an option. I wrote editorials, knew my local rep and made my voice heard. That was still too late for my friends who didn't come back. It's haunted me every since. The memories of those times are not all pleasant.
NYC in the 1970s was a magic place. And so is this piece of your life here. Dylan, Patti Smith, Mailer, CBGBs.mythical beings (you are one) in that mythical, churning place. The air, the streets, the bars and parties all had an incredible flow. I like thinking all the kids (we still were) working and walking Manhattan Brooklyn - and even some corners of Astoria, as they strolled by one another, wove some magic as we crossed paths.
Glad you recycled this. I think I only skimmed it in the past. A closer read is rewarding indeed. And that photo! Dylan as never seen before or since, a Dylan as unknown as the writer-fanboy Dylan you wrote about. Patti Smith'll have that effect.
What a great tale Lucian, I really enjoyed it. It goes to show that we are all alike after all, nobody levitates to get out of bed in the morning, it's one leg at a time for all of us. I spent 30+ years working in show business, which I enjoyed no end. I got to work with some wonderfully talented people who for the most part were people that it was a pleasure to spend time with, to be sure there were the assholes but they were rare, for me at least. I had dinner one night with Lillian Hellman, early 80's, we were guests of Hanna Weinstein who was producing a picture I was working on, they had known each other for decades and were so gracious, I was a friend of Hanna's daughter Lisa which was why I was there. Hanna had moved to England with her family because of McCarthy and the HUAC hearings, there I was having dinner with two women that totally hated fascism. I have never forgotten that meal, just like you didn't forget going to Mailer's party. Following our own path has led us to some wonderful experiences and I wouldn't change a minute of it. I truly do feel blessed, not special, but blessed. Thanks for taking me with you, I enjoyed the ride.
One of my favorite of your essays. I’ve always thought of Bob as a New York writer. A New York intellectual, in fact. In the tradition of Ginsberg, Mailer, and Sontag. Kudos.
Thanks, Luc. … Armed with a fresh Masters from UVa, Toby did what had never been done: went out to Hibbings and talked with Bob's high school girlfriend Echo Helstrom (probably the "Girl from the North Country"), his mother, teachers, and others who knew him, and wrote an impressive piece about the adventure.
That fell into my hands when he submitted it over the transom to the Village Voice. As I read it, the only question was how to publish it in the limited amount of space available. So I did what I did (before or after, I've forgotten) with another questing piece, by Grover Lewis on forgotten bluesmen: I divided it into six parts and ran them in consecutive issues of the Voice.
They of course caused a rolling sensation. Voice freelance wages being what they were then, that may have earned Toby $300 instead of the $50 he'd have been paid if it had run as one piece. (Or was the VV still paying $10 per piece?) Oh—and a book contract for "Positively Main Street: An Unorthodox First View of Bob Dylan" based on the series.
What a memory! Great to hear from you Diane. BD was right: I had many lessons to learn. I'm eternally grateful to you for having bought this piece. I think you paid $60 an issue in 1969. Or maybe $50. It was a huge boost to my income. You introduced me to Lucian, too. Soon after my series was published.
Hey, I've had a couple of beers with Bob Seger at a Christmas night house party 30 years ago. His ex-co-manager in the beginning of his career, Dave Leone, was a friend of mine. Dave died 20 years ago of a massive heart attack.
Such a wonderful story. I must have missed it the first time you ran it.It's amazing how many people one meets in n a given lifetime. but most of us don't meet famous people. I worked with two - Arnold Palmer as his stand-In/body double in a commercial, and Ernest Borgnine as his stand-In in a movie, Oh, and with Jennifer Grey as her elderly husband in a music video. (Same with a TV actress, named Rhea Seehorn in a movie. A few others like Anthony Hopkins, and Jerry Lewis, just chatting briefly on sets. . (I did background work and a little acting from age 78 to 89, but quit 2 years ago.)
The only professional musician I met and became friends with was baritone sax player, Gerry Mulligan. A friend introduced me to him at a little bar called t The RainCheck we used to hang out in the early 60's. For jazz lovers here is a clip of Gerry playing for Billie Holiday: (Watch her face as the musicians play their solos.) https://youtu.be/YKqxG09wlIA
"an" for "and" in the subhed. Ooops.
Not a problem, dear sir. My finger hits two keys at the same time more often than not, or the bar in between. I'm used to it and so are most of the others. I was in the City often back then, installing shows at up and coming avant guard galleries for my wife and then zoom back to LA after hearing over and over,"Man, you should have been here last week" What a world. LA is close, but so spread out, t takes a real effort to hit more than three places in one night, when in the Village, it is a reasonable walk or shot run on the A train and you can fill up the whole night.
I do miss it. I could read a piece of yours every night. Love your writing.
You were really in the Scene. What fun that had to be. We have Mailer in common - and that's it. The music people were minimally part of my life. I interviewed Alice Cooper, smoked a joint with Mama Cass, and lived next door to Dylan's drummer in the Palisades. My moment of shame re music was when I was 16 and with my father at the Intercontinental in San Juan. I remember calling the front desk to complain that from the room next door I was hearing/feeling vibrations. The person said, "Madame, that is Pablo Casals practicing." Sorry to have made this place into Twitter, but couldn't resist.
Great piece, great personal history. Lucky guy, thanks for the record.
What a phenomenal piece. Thanks for re-upping it.
I love this Lucian. I was living the same love of music and poetry on the west coast at that time. Spent many nights at the Fillmore and Avalon in San Francisco entrenched in the music and stories of the late 60s and early 70s. Not quite as intimate as yours but experienced some incredible music and soul searching(that may have been the psychedelics). I saw Bob Dylan perform and would have loved to meet him. My only claim to fame was being backstage with Jim Morrison when he said “ Hey little girl and offered me a hit from his whiskey bottle”. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker but had a sip anyway.
Heh. My brother was in the record biz and took me to a concert by Little Village in LA. We went backstage, lots of stars. I just stood there drinking a bottle of water and goggling. Set it down on the table, reached for it--someone else had picked it up and was drinking it. Bonnie Raitt. What struck me was how LITTLE she is. I abandoned the bottle.
Wow, Karen! I’m impressed! :)
I remember reading this story from the first go-round with pleasure, and it was a pleasure to read it again.
You know I’m going to keep bugging you for a book, right? ☺️
Hear, hear! A book, please!
fascinating stories...fascinating life. I'm glad you share it with us. The 60s and 70s were my party decades; brings back a lot of memories.
I was busy protesting and going on marches in D.C. and New York!
I did, too. My class had several perish in VN, including my best friend's brother. I was close enough to go to NYC, but DC wasn't an option. I wrote editorials, knew my local rep and made my voice heard. That was still too late for my friends who didn't come back. It's haunted me every since. The memories of those times are not all pleasant.
NYC in the 1970s was a magic place. And so is this piece of your life here. Dylan, Patti Smith, Mailer, CBGBs.mythical beings (you are one) in that mythical, churning place. The air, the streets, the bars and parties all had an incredible flow. I like thinking all the kids (we still were) working and walking Manhattan Brooklyn - and even some corners of Astoria, as they strolled by one another, wove some magic as we crossed paths.
Glad you recycled this. I think I only skimmed it in the past. A closer read is rewarding indeed. And that photo! Dylan as never seen before or since, a Dylan as unknown as the writer-fanboy Dylan you wrote about. Patti Smith'll have that effect.
What a great tale Lucian, I really enjoyed it. It goes to show that we are all alike after all, nobody levitates to get out of bed in the morning, it's one leg at a time for all of us. I spent 30+ years working in show business, which I enjoyed no end. I got to work with some wonderfully talented people who for the most part were people that it was a pleasure to spend time with, to be sure there were the assholes but they were rare, for me at least. I had dinner one night with Lillian Hellman, early 80's, we were guests of Hanna Weinstein who was producing a picture I was working on, they had known each other for decades and were so gracious, I was a friend of Hanna's daughter Lisa which was why I was there. Hanna had moved to England with her family because of McCarthy and the HUAC hearings, there I was having dinner with two women that totally hated fascism. I have never forgotten that meal, just like you didn't forget going to Mailer's party. Following our own path has led us to some wonderful experiences and I wouldn't change a minute of it. I truly do feel blessed, not special, but blessed. Thanks for taking me with you, I enjoyed the ride.
Those were the days, my friend….
The Writer is damned fine. What a joy to read.
If you open your window and hear a loud, piercing sound... that's me, screaming with envy.
One of my favorite of your essays. I’ve always thought of Bob as a New York writer. A New York intellectual, in fact. In the tradition of Ginsberg, Mailer, and Sontag. Kudos.
AKA "that Toby fellow"—wasn't that how Bob put it? —diane f
I'm going to interject here: difi "discovered" and first published Toby in the Voice.
Thanks, Luc. … Armed with a fresh Masters from UVa, Toby did what had never been done: went out to Hibbings and talked with Bob's high school girlfriend Echo Helstrom (probably the "Girl from the North Country"), his mother, teachers, and others who knew him, and wrote an impressive piece about the adventure.
That fell into my hands when he submitted it over the transom to the Village Voice. As I read it, the only question was how to publish it in the limited amount of space available. So I did what I did (before or after, I've forgotten) with another questing piece, by Grover Lewis on forgotten bluesmen: I divided it into six parts and ran them in consecutive issues of the Voice.
They of course caused a rolling sensation. Voice freelance wages being what they were then, that may have earned Toby $300 instead of the $50 he'd have been paid if it had run as one piece. (Or was the VV still paying $10 per piece?) Oh—and a book contract for "Positively Main Street: An Unorthodox First View of Bob Dylan" based on the series.
This contains Bobby's precise comment on Toby's enterprise, which I garbled a bit: https://mountainjournal.org/toby-thompson-set-out-to-find-how-bob-dylan-emerged-from-hibbing-minnesota
—diane fisher
What a memory! Great to hear from you Diane. BD was right: I had many lessons to learn. I'm eternally grateful to you for having bought this piece. I think you paid $60 an issue in 1969. Or maybe $50. It was a huge boost to my income. You introduced me to Lucian, too. Soon after my series was published.
Hey, I've had a couple of beers with Bob Seger at a Christmas night house party 30 years ago. His ex-co-manager in the beginning of his career, Dave Leone, was a friend of mine. Dave died 20 years ago of a massive heart attack.
Such a wonderful story. I must have missed it the first time you ran it.It's amazing how many people one meets in n a given lifetime. but most of us don't meet famous people. I worked with two - Arnold Palmer as his stand-In/body double in a commercial, and Ernest Borgnine as his stand-In in a movie, Oh, and with Jennifer Grey as her elderly husband in a music video. (Same with a TV actress, named Rhea Seehorn in a movie. A few others like Anthony Hopkins, and Jerry Lewis, just chatting briefly on sets. . (I did background work and a little acting from age 78 to 89, but quit 2 years ago.)
The only professional musician I met and became friends with was baritone sax player, Gerry Mulligan. A friend introduced me to him at a little bar called t The RainCheck we used to hang out in the early 60's. For jazz lovers here is a clip of Gerry playing for Billie Holiday: (Watch her face as the musicians play their solos.) https://youtu.be/YKqxG09wlIA
A legendary performance, this one.
Indeed, difny, All in the past I'm afraid. Jt's a changed world, all kinds of strange music to me :) By the way when I click the little "
Like" heart above it no longer works for me fr some reason. Maybe it's my old computer. Although it happened once before then suddenly worked again..