I listened to Lou Reed’s Coney Island Baby today. It was the first time since I lost my cassette copy back in 1990. I was in Lawrence, Kansas walking down Mass Street, when I saw a spare-changer tripping out of his gourd. I’m pretty sure he was trying to ask me for money, and as I was trying to slide up change from my pocket (I was an easier mark in those days), I noticed some patrolmen on foot heading our way. Lest the guy get pinched and taken in for, at best, public intoxication, I grabbed his elbow and took him into a nearby sandwich shop. I bought him a sandwich. He was grateful and held his head together while I sat with him.

I walked hurriedly away afterward, having set him up with a warm meal — I was late to meet my group. Once I was in a vehicle and on my way out of town, I realized I had left my Walkman at the table with the tripping guy. I hope he was coherent enough to take it with him and that Lou kept him stable through the rest of his journey.

Anyway, it was pretty nice to hear that album again and it’s funny how quickly it took me back to the way Lawrence was in those days. Before the Gap and Starbucks.