"Mr. Jackie Mason", NYC, NY. April 2008.Early morning after the club left out, we walked down the avenue and stopped into a diner in the midst of no open restaurants...only bars full of late night drinkers and stink of spilled beer.
A blessing was bound to happen. Yes, it was a real slice of New York life...something that reminds me that some things are still around even if not forever. Things that remind of the old New York before every restaurant put up french doors and cheap posters of Montmartre and Pigalle on their walls. A reminder that a decent, just decent meal should cost more than 12 bucks at most.
There he was...Jackie Mason. As much the same as he is on television. We talked or rather he gorged me with a kind litany of interest and questions about my family and work. Across from him sat the gentile, Charlie. Scribbles and notes covered a paper in front of the writer who jotted down the charm and old Jewish wisdom and comedy of yesteryear's.
"Charlie" late night Diner. NYC, NY. April 2009.I was happy to meet them after a night of plastic bodies and the "Gossip Girl" masses lost realities shadowing over the lost and fashion bent youth. Plastic vs. chutzpah. Chutzbah wins!
