Smells like Teen Spirit. Not.

Last night after the fourth show of the evening, I caught a cab home.

Now, there are times in New York City when a train pulls into a crowded subway station and, pressed on the platform in the mass of humanity, you see a large empty space in the car and you make a beeline for the spot, delighted that you've found a seat until you realize that the large empty space is there because a homeless person is in that section of the car and they have not bathed for a very long time and that section of the car smells like . . . well . . . it really only smells like an unwashed homeless person on a subway car; it's a situation that lacks metaphor. And it's heart-breaking and you really want to do something about it, help in some way, put coins in a cup and vote Democrat, but survival demands that you stop breathing and flee. It's the smell made famous in the Seinfeld episode with the car that Jerry ends up having to get rid of. And if you've never smelled it, you have no idea and you are lucky and the risk is reason enough to stay away from New York City.

So my point is.

Early this morning as Shanta and Jeremiah and I were saying goodnight at the corner of Jones and Bowery, and I turned to hail a cab and watched the two of them walking up to the comfort and safety of Jeremiah's car because Shanta's place was on his route home and my place was not, I had no idea that I was about to get into a cab driven by a guy who had that smell and that, to make matters worse, he would drive me home at the slowest speeds I have ever traveled on the streets of New York City.

All of which is to say that Jeremiah's band, The Ramblers is playing tonight at Rockwood and they're awesome.