What have I done to deserve your scorn and contempt?
Have I not worshipped you appropriately?
Have I not bowed down at the foot of Sam Cooke? Read the Gospel of Marvin? Sung (albeit badly) the Psalms of Pickett?
I once more make my pilgrimage to your Mecca on 125th Street to tour your hallowed theatre only to be once more denied entry.
I know you work in mysterious ways but to reschedule a tour when I only have one chance to see you is just cruel.
So I trudge back to mid-town, head slumped like Charlie Brown and get ready to hop on a plane home, having once more failed to see the inside of the grand Apollo.
Always yours,
Disco Stu
P.S. Harlem is looking swell.
1 comment:
A brilliant piece of prose albeit sad, lamenting prose! Your language poetic - your message pathetic - how could you not bribe a doorman, security guard, paper boy - anyone to gain at least a 5 minute homage to the hallowed hall? Ah well there is an excuse for another sojourn to the Big Apple! Flywheel
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