CBGBs was the la Scala of the East Village during the 1970s. Debby Harry was our Maria Callas, but not all the action was on stage. The lives of the musicians and regulars intertwined for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years. None of pretended that we were family, but I regard my friends and associates with undying fondness, even though I can’t recall what we did together other than hang at CBGBs.
That was enough for most of us, because like CBGBs we were all so special and I found this Marcia Resnick photo of one of the most special.
Damita, the little runaway.
I google-searched for her, finding a small narrative from Legs McNeils’ epic PLEASE KILL ME.
Like so many things of my past they only exist in the past.
And that’s for the best in most cases.