Goodnight, Tom Verlaine

I used to routinely see Tom Verlaine around the neighborhood, but one learned pretty swiftly not to bug the man. I once accosted him in front of The Strand like a gushing fanboy, and the sneer I received could have stopped a rhino in his tracks.

My favorite memory, though, was being caught in calamitous summer rainstorm in the late 90s and ducking in out of the maelstrom into Stromboli’s Pizza on University Place between 12th and 13th street (long gone). The only other patron in that tiny space? Yep, Tom Goddamn Verlaine. Remembering the Strand incident, I ordered my slice and left him alone …. only to have him remark in soggy solidarity, “It’s really coming down out there.”

Of his solo stuff, this has always (pardon the pun) been my favorite. Raise a slice to the great man.