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.

October 18, 1978 – Journal Entry – East Village

Alice’s trip to West Virginia was five days long. She returned Tuesday morning fifteen minutes before I went to work as a waiter in the Ventron Executive Dining Room off Wall Street. Somehow she looked different and acted the same. It took a full day until Alice became the love of my life again, although […]

TIPS FOR THE OCCUPIED

In July 1940 according to Ronald Rosbottom’s WHEN PARIS WENT DARK about the Nazi Occupation of Paris in June 1940 a mimeographed flyer hit the streets. TIPS FOR THE OCCUPIED. The City of Light had been stunned by the collapse of the French army. 80% of the population fled Paris fearing the worst much like […]

SOUTHBOUND by Peter Nolan Smith

From 2013 Last week Vladmar announced that he was heading to Florida. The Pittsburgh native never been there before. 2013 had been a hard winter. “I can’t believe that I’m fifty years old and have never to the Holy Land.” The Sunshine State was special, but even more so back in the last century. “My […]

Snow in Spring NYC 2010

JoJo, the security guard at the diamond exchange, was a betting man. He gambled the left-overs from his monthly NYPD pension on baseball, basketball, and football. His losses outweighed his wins. JoJo also wagered on odd parlays and on March 1st in 2010 I said that there wouldn’t be another snowstorm. Two days ago the […]

Opening paragraphs of ALMOST A DEAD MAN

Hamburg 1982 The scurry of claws across the filthy floor startled the woman on the battered chair and she lifted her black stiletto heels in horror. Rats were the least of her problems. Over the phone her lover had suggested a nocturnal rendezvous on Kaiserkai. No one came to Hamburg’s harbor at night. The woman […]