Thursday, December 1, 2016

Out In The Cold

Micky Fitz
Rest In Peace

Fare thee well to the legendary frontman of British Oi!/street-punk band The Business. I count myself as lucky that I got to see The Business the very first time they made it to New York City, and the last time (plus a few times in between). Thanks for all the splendid music, good times, and for the name of a certain short-lived fanzine.

Monday, November 28, 2016

The Lesson

A simple observation, her good-natured ribbing did it: all about the black socks. It was more than just the black socks, but it was a reminder; the ends were very far from the surface. Black socks. Bridges. That curl of the lip... That night.

"We all shouted 'ammonia man' as he clawed at his eyes." "You think that's funny?," he asked. Then he stood right in front of me wearing a weather-beaten leather vest, and big black mc-boots; hair all slicked back and a deep olive complexion. He leaned in and asked me his name. I said it, and he hit me. Standing there in front of the candy store shivering from the cold, the shame I felt was nearly unbearable. I did nothing wrong yet I felt lost. I often felt lost back then. I put myself in the position to get hit, perhaps that's why I felt so wretched. The reverberations of that punch would shake right through the neighborhood, and I'd live with it for a while in the spotlight, and for years to come in my own dark corners. There were many times to come after that snowy day that I'd get hit in one way or another. Many more days and nights of shame. He asked me his name, I answered and got hit so hard it took my wind away and left me shaking. Paralyzed. Why then did I spend the next day with him, blurring the edges and acting the fool?

Her hand reaching out across a scarred, stained, beer-soaked table, wrapping itself in my fingers. That curl of the lip. It all turned into everything I desperately needed, and was gone before the processing could even begin... Black socks. How could that ever sum it up?

© 2006-2016 Lee Greenfeld

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

¡No Pasarán!

"Alt-Right" assholes come at me, my family, my friends, or my neighbors, and you've got a real fight on your hands.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.  Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,—
They are gone.  They are gone to feed the roses.  Elegant and curled
Is the blossom.  Fragrant is the blossom.  I know.  But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know.  But I do not approve.  And I am not resigned.

From Edna  St. Vincent Millay's Collected Poems © 1928

Monday, November 14, 2016

Tempo Tantrum

Billy Miller
Rest In Peace

Thank you for your unbridled love of music and a good story (and man did you have the best stories!); your generosity and your big heart. I will truly miss talking with you about music and our beloved Mets. You were one of a kind and the rock'n'roll world weeps at your loss.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Hope That It Comes True

"I had a dream last night.
Everybody’s laughing and everything was alright.
Still some hope in sight, but that was last night.

I had a dream last night.
Nobody’s crying, nobody’s frightened.
Still some hope in sight, but that was last night."

Photography by Lee Greenfeld © 2016
Lyrics by Stephen McCarthy (Long Ryders)

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Weeping For Our Nation

Today, on the 78th anniversary of the Night of Broken Glass, Donald Trump has been elected president of the United States Of America.

 "Sorg" woodcut by Rune Lindblad, 1955

Monday, October 24, 2016

New Visions Beyond Old Frontiers

Tom Hayden
Rest In Peace

"The American political system is not the democratic model of which its glorifiers speak. In actuality it frustrates democracy by confusing the individual citizen, paralyzing policy discussion, and consolidating the irresponsible power of military and business interests."

Quote excerpted from The Port Huron Statement, 1962

Saturday, August 6, 2016


"Say, the ghost is absent again this evening. Two nights in a row. He must be conducting the dead, or reading books nobody understands."

Photograph by Lee Greenfeld © 2016

Tuesday, July 26, 2016


"Humanity, in its desire for comfort, had over-reached itself. It had exploited the riches of nature too far. Quietly and complacently, it was sinking into decadence, and progress had come to mean the progress of the Machine."
Artwork by Jack Kirby | Words by E.M. Forster

Saturday, June 4, 2016

More Than A Champion

Muhammad Ali
Rest In Peace

"Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The Burning Would

"Under the seeming disorder of the old city, wherever the old city is working successfully, is a marvelous order for maintaining the safety of the streets and the freedom of the city. It is a complex order. Its essence is intricacy of sidewalk use, bringing with it a constant succession of eyes. This order is all composed of movement and change, and although it is life, not art, we may fancifully call it the art form of the city and liken it to the dance — not to a simple-minded precision dance with everyone kicking up at the same time, twirling in unison and bowing off en masse, but to an intricate ballet in which the individual dancers and ensembles all have distinctive parts which miraculously reinforce each other and compose an orderly whole. The ballet of the good city sidewalk never repeats itself from place to place, and in any once place is always replete with new improvisations."

Excerpt from The Death and Life of Great American Cities, 1961

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Down The Street The Dogs Are Barking

Pictured left to right: Karen Dalton (unconfirmed), Suze Rotolo, Terri Thai,  Bob Dylan,
and Dave Von Ronk. Photo by Jim Marshall, taken in 1963 on Hudson Street off West 10th

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Brilliant Orange

"Sometimes something's got to happen before
something is going to happen."

Johan Cruyff
Rest In Peace

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Man In Revolt

"We are living in the era of premeditation and the perfect crime. Our criminals are no longer helpless children who could plead love as their excuse. On the contrary, they are adults and they have the perfect alibi: philosophy, which can be used for any purpose — even for transforming murderers into judges."

Quote from The Rebel, 1951

Friday, March 11, 2016

The Gleam That Shows Its Grace

Antonio "Sunny" Balzano
Rest In Peace

Sunny, my friend, my hero, the person who made Brooklyn first feel like home. A supporter, a love, a great deal of laughter. A beauty. A charmer. A light that shines brighter than any other. Sunny. Sunshine... I will miss you forever and always.

Words by Elizabeth Lord
Photograph by Lee Greenfeld © 2016

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

In Order To Live

"I think we are well-advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were."