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travelogue bite.MPG
the sax was live on columbus street early in the evening the italian bohemians with long white hair cat calling the lovelies with a cheery 'buena sera' and being ignored of course. across the street was the west coast 'figaro'; tourist trap though…. unlike the 'figaro' in 'the village'… mcdougal and bleeker.that 'figaro was really hip.
the 'puccini' was the most nitty gritty unpretentious ristorante right in the thick of it with a view of the bohe'me hotel. a block away i passed the famous 'city lights bookstore' still a hangout for the new breed of backpocket writers and philosophers.a special type, the sociable erudite without whom there might not be a true fomenting of ideas and original thought at all.

i guess i was about fifteen when my brother discovered the evergreen review and grove press published at city lights. the most notorious of the 'beats' were regular contributors. burroughs, corso, ginsburg and of course our favorite kerouac. you could also delve into satraps and parapsychology.
'the hungryeye' and 'the purple onion' are still here… god that sax is massaging my spine… the purple onion looked dead but city lights was blazing lots of foreigners crowding the sidewalks on both sides of columbus street. this is where the 'melting pot' simmers and overflows.

i called adrian before coming here. adrian is another of julie's children. she was lazy and would rather watch a baseball game. i chided her, cajoled her to have dinner with me. she claims to be an artist. i never knew a real artist that had anything of the 'couch potato' in them. oh well, stick in the mud!

i put a call to demian to pick me up here on his way home. it's a long walk… hope he doesn't feel too put out… hope he gets my message. i'll call again at 8:30. just like greenwich village in new york city with italian coffee houses that look like they.ve been here for ages, a lot of neon and a lot of traffic. you can cross the street anywhere the traffic is so slow.
so many artistic looking people… i wonder if any of them really do anything, or do they just dream.

what a contrast to the pounding surf at big sur to the honking traffic and the blatant madness of the crazies. now i wish i'd brought my new camera on this walk; not just for the buildings but the colorful night life movement and sounds.
i forgot to mention bob kaufman and gary snyder and a.j. monroe, turk leclair and terogoo, who we called oogoograt. i wonder what happened to bob milo and mary mary, the 'botticelli venus'and the lovely catherine with her belly button filled with real ruby.

now that was an aside from my back pocket notes… coming up the rest of the odyssey. i gotta catch my breath… besides, it's tuesday, my day off when i get to lounge around the casino cafe' and drink in the impressions of main street's 'farmer's market'.