Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Happy Birthday, Denis !!! / Bon Annif !!!!
Even If You Cannot Hear My Voice...
... I'll be right beside you, dear... Such are the heartfelt and tuneful sentiments of Northern Ireland's Snow Patrol, who Thomas and I had the pleasure to catch at Irving Plaza last night. With low key Irish charm and earnest self-deprecating humor, Snow Patrol are somewhere between Coldplay meaningful and arena-rock identification and catharsis. Their "cigarette lighter" song is the heart-tugging ballad "Run," so, on giddy impluse, while taxi-ing back home to pick up the tickets I'd forgotten (!), I ducked into a bodega and picked up two cigarette lighters. The first time this non-smoking boy has ever made such a purchase... But "Run" elicited more arm-waving and sing-along than butane combustion, despite its chorus of "Light up, light up / as if you have a choice." 
"This case is dismissed" With these words, the Honorable Eileen Koretz (pictured left at her law school reunion) closed the chapter of my High Line mishap of July 17, when a federal agent gave me a summons for trespassing on the former abandoned railroad and, hopefully, future elevated park. I arrived 9:30am sharp at the Midtown Community Court on W 54th in between 8th and 9th, 31 blocks due north of my home. The court shares a building with an off-broadway theatre company, drably painted in what Tom Wolfe described as 'good-enough-for-government green.' I waited on line to check in, was sent back to the street 'until they had room,' and waited for 90 minutes with New Yorkers from other walks of life. 
White professionals were a minority of one, but the rainbow of ethnicity around me (which actually does include an 'Aaron Holsberg' come to think of it) was very mellow. Real people with real families facing life's real frustrations. I listened to the "Superfly" soundtrack on my mp3 player, but its perfectly captured urban desolation didn't jive with the 2004 urban types around me, who are no strangers to cell phones or cable television. I was called in, frisked, sent in to the inner sanctum on the conveyor belt of justice. My fear kicked in as I realized that some of my fellow defendents were there for shoplifting and possibly faced 30 days in jail, which for my delicate person is exactly 30 days too many. I saw several defendents face the judge, and, despite poor acoustics, I saw that some people went free, others got community service, and a few petty thieves did win a trip to Rikers or somewhere. I realized then that I'd have to stand before the judge and a bunch of court types and guards. But then I noticed half the people were there for such minor offenses as littering, riding a bicycle on a sidewalk, and I knew it would be OK. A middle-aged spiffy Jewish-looking man called my name - he was my court-appointed lawyer. He basically said the trespassing charge would be dismissed pending 6 months of staying out of trouble, and that I'd get off with a 20 minute lecture. My name appeared on the closed-circuit TV as I was called to the defendent's table, but my lawyer went and talked to the judge - I heard the words 'photography' and 'hobby' - and she said 'this case is dismissed.' No fine, no lecture, no record, no informing my employer or the SEC that this Series-7-holder stood briefly accused of a misdemeanor. Now, I can go back to being the boy scout you all know and love. Peace, man. : - )
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