The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Friends and Family #6

Albert Anastasia's last trip to the Barber


Vanwall said...

Yes, definitely a more manly setting than getting it eating scungilli in a cheap restaurant like the "Ubazze".

Robert Fiore said...

There's a story an old co-worker of mine told me that I always think of as a perfect example of New York wit. It was the day after the Anastasia hit and he's in an elevator with a stranger, so he says, "That was nice work yesterday in the barber shop."

Like a shot, the other guy replies, "You saw me!?"