Somebody asked if I actually did write this column on rolling papers. No, I lied about that. lied about almost everything here. The first fight, though, was real.
I didn not lie about the scenery outside the Lighthouse, however, I never lie about scenery, especially strolling by outside jazz clubs. Aging jazz musicians wander out to the pier between sets, fire up a furtive joint and leer. Well not leer, exactly, but look. Look a lot. Stare even. This might seem apallingly sexist, but it relaxes them for the rigors of be bop. Which is why they make the big bucks.