Author Archives: Peter

Open City declared Peter Nolan Smith an underground punk legend of the 1970s East Village. The New England native spent many years as a nightclub doorman in New York, Paris, London, and Hamburg. The constant traveler has lived for long periods of time in Europe and the Far East. After a forced retirement from the Schmatta trade in Thailand, Peter Nolan Smith returned to New York to work in the international diamond trade. At summer’s end he resumed the life of a writer. The world’s leading leisureologist is currently based in Sri Racha, Thailand, Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and Luxembourg City. He has no address.

Closing of the Smithfield Market

November 26, 2024 – 3:59 pm

Back in the 1980s when I was working the door of Cafe De Paris, after closing my friend David Tidball and I walked south across London to the Smithfield Market. The ancient slaughterhouse was alive with butchers chopping meat and the only pubs open after closing time were those across the street. Beer, blood, and […]

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Pin Ball At the Nursery – 1977

November 26, 2024 – 3:27 pm

how Sharon Mitchell and I became friends pinball at the Nursery 1977.

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GASLIGHT PINBALL by Peter Nolan Smith

November 26, 2024 – 2:27 am

Pinball was banned as a game of chance in New York City throughout most of the 20th Century. In 1976 a pinball wizard proved the contrary to a courtroom by calling out his shots to the amazed judges. The ace later acknowledged that his called shot was pure luck, however pinball machines once more populated […]

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SHAWALLAGAH PA. – BET ON CRAZY

November 25, 2024 – 9:54 am

First published 2008 Thanksgiving Day plus One started the Holiday season on West 47th Street. Accordingly the majority of the ground floor exchanges extend their operating hours and stay open every ding-dong day until Christmas. Throughout the week regular customers and natives to New York flock here, but on the weekends they are replaced by […]

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Lost Letter 1981

November 24, 2024 – 12:59 pm

My archives are filled with thousands of photos, hundreds of letters, and about forty journals of which I find only thirty-three. All from the 1970s into 1990s. One was from Teresa. “You’re the only one. All the rest are nothing.” I have no idea who she might be, but I have my suspicions. This might […]

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