I lived in New York’s, East Village starting in the very early eighties. My roomate Darcy and I were on 12th street and First avenue. There were quite a few well known people who were living on our block or one over. Across the street was the poet, Allen Ginsberg. I’d see him on a daily basis. There was the painter Larry Rivers, who was always at the coffee shop I ate at. Caddy-corner was Richard Hell of the Voidoids, a nice bloke. Joe Jackson and Jodie Foster were on 13th street. I’d also see Richard Butler of the Psychadelic Furs at the bodega. Jennifer Beals would always be popping in and out of her apartment. It was quite gritty but all of us arty types loved the action in that legendary neighborhood in those days and that was just my tiny block.
