Yesterday was Allen Ginsberg’s 98th birthday. If you arrived at the Wilson Avenue subway station between 7:15 and 7:45pm and found the lady with a red parasol, a chaperone would lead you northeast to the edge of New York City where veiled dancers and a jazz guitarist perched on the retaining wedge over the approach to the East New York Tunnel, through which the last LIRR trains traveled sometime around 2010. Some mysterious boxcars sit still on the tracks, stuck between derails. A reciter, from memory, read Howl until the sun set, in three parts. The third was punctuated by kerosene twirled fire. We howled each time the poem did.
In the early peak/pit pandemic Fall I hosted Aaron Wolff and a few friends at the City Reliquary to record New York, Alone: a collection of music and poems and poems to music about feeling alone in the United States’ most populous city. Ginsberg’s My Sad Self was there. We debuted the film the following April. You can watch it if you ask.
Allen Ginsberg hasn’t yet clicked for me but clearly has for the people who create and find the types of underground public benefits that click for me.
This is Geistlist. I am Jacob Ford, and it’s nice you’re here.
¶. In 20 minutes: Generate
Lynn’s Place, Greenwich Village, NYC
Our last Millenial/Boomer Drinking Club before summer break. Discussing humor.
¶. Now: “I liken her to Regina Spektor meets Fiona Apple”
Club Curious, Williamsburg, NYC
My pal Akpanoluo writes the best emails, and he’s hosting this with . Might be his last summer in NYC. You can use the code ONEMORESHOW for a free ticket if it helps you go.
¶. Thursday 8pm: BIRD PLAY
IRT Theater, West Village, NYC
I have no idea—Catie found this. But I curated BIRD SHOW so I have to find out. There are other times but this is the one I’m most likely at.
¶. Friday 7pm: BenBen’s Birthday String Quartet
Public Records, Gowanus, NYC
BenBen is a bundle of joy who keeps colliding with my life. He sings, he rocks, he plans, he raises, and he cares for you and everyone. His birthday is a public party, a record release, and a string quartet. Bide a while, buy a drink (buy me one if you want), by the canal, Bill MacKay will be there, who I’m excited to meet.
¶. Saturday 9pm: a nocturnal scavenger hunt on bikes through New York’s underground
Bushwick probably, NYC
From the chaotic magic friends at Shadow Traffic, the first of what may become annual, and born out of the thrice-canceled¹ dreams for Revelation, an ephemeral bike gang war formed on rental electric scooters. We’ve pivoted to CitiBikes, and you may join our Horse Girl Cult if you reply equestrianarily.
∞. Proper credits takes research
Simple undisputed facts often come from hard & unclear digging. No answer doesn’t mean there isn’t one.
¹ First for hurricane, second for storm, third and for Revel sunsetting their rental scooters.