Life Burns Bright

It begins slow. A few beers at a friend's apartment adorned with Indian skeletons and comfortable couches. Off to a cocktail reception in a cab to midtown. Eat light, drink from Tom Collins glasses while chattering idly about things present and future with old acquaintances. Across the street to a hole-in-the-wall for contrast. Jimmy sitting in the corner playing video poker. Shots and beers, gay conversation and a beautiful woman in a blue dress who has simply had too much. On to another bar for mozzarella sticks and vodka in short glasses. Revelry highlighted by the Mets winning after a rain delay that did not catch you although it did others. And then, alone, you settle the tab and hail a cab. Call the wife while zig-zagging through the financial district across the Brooklyn Bridge where you stop in the corner bar and your neighbor is happy to see you. Then home where your wife fixes you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and pours you a tall glass of water to go with your aspirin. The dog is happy to see you and licks your hand and you realize when you look back at your wife that the night is not quite over. Life burns bright and you are intoxicated by its stare.

Nearby a Bar in Buffalo

People laugh when I tell them I would sweat bullets in Buffalo, but they never had a bat the size of a 747 buzz them while they were strumming chords on a stairway landing in the

The Bosche Lofts, Buffalo, NY

main foyer of an old building causing them to drop their guitar with a reverberating bellow and retreat back to their apartment. 


I'd sweat through my t-shirt as the heat seemed to suck the air from the one-time factory that faced Main Street with its back on North Pearl Street a few blocks from Artvoice's office where I secured a summer internship.

My bedroom window faced Main Street and was opened wide letting in the heated arguments between lesbian lovers that would spill out from the bar nearby late at night. I'd lie awake listening and invariably find myself taking sides based on whose case was more convincing. This steady stream of drama piqued my curiosity and I visited the bar one day to take a look. It was daytime and there weren't many patrons. Upon inspection, the bar was no different than any of the other ones in the neighborhood, so I hopped on a stool and ordered a beer. 

Roxy's, Buffalo, NY (1999 - 2014).

Since then, Allentown has undergone significant renovations. The old building at 916 Main Street has been restored with modern lofts and amenities galore. The lesbian bar nearby has been converted to office space. The Artvoice office is now a parking lot, but the old building still haunts me. Perhaps it was the gigantic bat whose sonar locked in on my musical vibrations or the heated arguments on those hot summer nights, but I can still feel the vibrant energy of Allentown pulsating amid the ruins of an abandoned metropolis and I've never picked up my guitar more than I did back then.