Seeing Mike Day again in New York March 6, 1986
I met Mike Day again late in 1970; one of those quirky bits
of synchronicity that forever sticks in my mind
I was late from work
having been given a last minute run for the messenger service on the far end of
town and came off the wrong Subway at 8th Street instead of Astor Place
Where I heard his voice
I didn't believe it
the last time I saw
him had been on highland boulevard in Hollywood as we were getting ready to hitchhike
up; the coast to San Fransisco.
He produced a joint to share with us as a going away
present.
Then he reappeared 3,000 miles away in the heart of the
Lower East Side.
I practically shouted for joy
he blinked at me at
first and his usual way squinting at people. Perhaps needing glasses. Then slowly
he smiled, thin lipped, careful but indeed recognition.
I urged him to come hone with me. But he couldn’t at that
moment. He took my address and came later, and for the next few months began a
process of coming and goings
He had the same laid back feel to him as many of the
potheads I’d met during the many miles on the road, yet at the same time a deep
uncomfortable restlessness.
He came and went because to stay made him feel trapped.
During one of his early visits, he brought with him some
orange sunshine and sat tripping with us in the old East 6th Street apartment
On another trip he ask me to help him with some special
project. He apparently couldn't get the ignition to work on a truck he was
trying to steal. So he brought the whole key assembly back to my house where
with the help of a nail file, he got the thing to turn
I drove him back to
the lot on the handlebars of my bicycle ,a big time operation
it was after we moved to the new address that we saw him
again.
He introduced it us to a new girl, Marie, who we did not
take to at first, having become close friends with his ex-wife Chris, who had
driven straight through from Detroit to see Louise in the hospital when our daughter
was born.
I think this previous knowledge made us prejudice against Marie.
it was also an
attitude that Louise has even today in dealing with people, capable of turning
around in an instant from friend to enemy
In either case we took Mike and Marie in. I even got him a
job at the houseware place uptown where I had just started
His job lasted only long enough for him to go out in his
first delivery. He barged in the front door of a Park Avenue apartment, passed
the doorman and guests, saying he had
delivery and when they told him he had to use the service entrance she told him
to fuck off.
He wouldn't be
treated like a slave and quit, dragging me off to Central Park to smoke dope
By this time we were all hurting for money and he pulled a
one-time deal with heroin, copying a lot of cheap stuff and selling it to the
local junkie house in Harlem, going in like an insurance salesman
To pay us back for letting him stay in our place, he went
and found us a stereo, an old mono unit from a disco and a guitar amp both
which I enjoyed immensely
Music meant the world to me
At one point ,Mike and Marie caught something like lice and
had to spread this cream all over both of their bodies
it was Mike that I
that we turn to when we wanted to leave New York and which was deteriorating
from under us like something dead
at the same time Louise went back to New Jersey to recover
the money her family had forced her to save back when we both worked at the
printing company.
possession of it eventually destroyed everything
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