A man tore out pages seventy through eighty-nine from last week’s New Yorker, stapled them neatly in the upper left corner and wrote the following over the title box: “For the guy who got me on the bus.”
The article was “The Prince of Possibility – When Ken Kesey seemed capable of making anything happen.” by Robert Stone. I really don’t think anyone can take credit for giving someone else a hand up onto the running board. We each buy our own ticket and we use it as we choose. But the gesture was sweet and the sense that the values of that generation are still alive, warped and lovely as they have always been, brings happiness to the aging hipster in many of us.
In a bit of synchronicity I gave Ben my copy of Bay of Souls for the flight home following his visit this weekend.