Ok, so I could rant or rave for a while about what I've been listening to lately, or what terrible terrible things I've read on celebrity gossip pages. Or I couldn't. It's snowing outside, and I'd rather just talk about a short article I read today entitled "The Kink," all about Ray Davies, the lead man of the popular 60's British rock band the Kinks. Come on, they had hits like "Sunny Afternoon" and "Lola" -- instantly recognizable. It's all about this old guy, wearin "ray-bans, a multi-colored scarf, gray stovepipe jeans, and running shoes," Stop right there. Who is this guy? He better be makin a stop soon at the local bakery for a bismark. This is what I said, but he never gets around to it.
Anyway, it's pretty cool, and it's short -- very important. But it takes him back, using a nostalgic approach, to the city he pseudo-immigrated to decades ago -- The Big Apple.
He stops by old cafes and bars like Zabar's and Cafe Lux, where he used to be a regular. He talks about crying on a bus while being confronted by the then-heavyweight champion of the world. He talks about pleasant encounters with John Lennon.
It ends pleasantly: "I must remember never to say I remember. But it's easy to forget."
My point isn't much, but it isn't that the Kinks were really really great or anything, a lot of people would probably say they were. But I'm not. I'm saying this little New Yorker "Talk of the Town" piece really wrapped itself around my heartstrings -- it was quite beautiful. Not only did it take Ray Davies back, but it took me back to a time and place I've forgotten because I can't remember, so I won't say I do. You should read it. Early bird gets the whale.
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