It felt almost illegal! I left Japan at 11 A.M. on Sunday morning and arrived at 11 A.M. on Sunday morning, with a thirteen hour flight somehow sandwiched in between. I carried a bag with a few days’ worth of clothes and 200 copies of Jim Daniels’ Now Playing fresh from the printers’. Everything went like clockwork…picked up the suitcase containg the books…customs…and there was Dan and Katie waiting for me. In the parkinglot the grand switch-off happened: Jim Daniels to Dan and Jerry’s beauty of a book to me.

Then the drive up-town to the Bowery: lots of dream-time talk–the kind of “I don’t believe I’m really here” kind of chatter that I indulge in when I step off the plane on the other side of the world. In my head the clean, quiet streets of Shin-Urayasu, and before my eyes the torn-up, ripped-up, painted-up, trash-dumped-upon, pissed-upon, yet manically alive streets of NYC on a beautiful autumn day with high blue skys and human vistas that were pure eye candy after thirteen hours in a sealed cabin at 35,000 feet.

As we made our way on foot to the BPC, suddenly there was Jerry and Diane. Hugs all around, and Jerry not at all sure how many people would find their way to his reading on such a beautiful day–but he loved–absolutely loved–the book, and hanging out with Jerry and Diane, and Dan and Katie, even if it meant drinking lots of coffee at the corner restaurant, was worth the trip no matter how many folks showed.

But just like the weather, our luck held out and a good crowd arrived in drips and drabs. First there was Stephanie–a student at the New School–and an apprentice to the Muse. There she is in Dan’s number three blog picture. She’d known Jerry in San Diego. Then the poet and critic Mike Heller arrived. I had a chance to hang out and talk with him. Then the reading happened. Books from the ahadada stand began to disappear, autographs were signed, hugs and handshakes and lots of smiles. The crowd was good–a gentle festival in a good space.

The reading was almost finished when the poet Robert Thompson appeared–my old friend from my dead-end Milwaukee days. Then, after we’d all gone elsewhere to talk some more, the greatest surprise of the evening: Mark Weiss in the flesh! What a great chat we had about Armand Schwerner–a profound poet and sorely missed.

It all went by so quickly. Katie and Dan had to return to Burlington and kindly gave me a lift back to the Hotel Pennsylvania where I spent the next few days visiting bookstores, catching up on old times with Robert and enjoying his family, and hanging out in Manhattan, primarily in the wee small hours, as I was still working very much on Japanese time.

The only time my luck ran out was when the North Koreans decided to test their A-bomb. Other than that–home again and safe.