The first time I went to the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade was in 1984. Or so I assume. That was the year I moved to New York and for the next eight or nine years anything above 14th Street was wilderness to me.
It’s one of those you-had-to-be-there things. Does anyone else remember John Sex? Or the Pope of Pot tossing loose joints to the crowd along the parade route?

Everything changes, and better or worse is just a matter of perspective. Mostly, I think things get better. But it’s natural enough on Halloween to think about those people who have passed over to the other side. An important man in my life died a few weeks ago and I’m missing him on this day of the dead. I also miss Lou Reed.
Happy Halloween.
as she cruises Christopher Street
And some Southern Queen is acting loud and mean
where the docks and the Badlands meet
Especially to be here without you
and some black Jamaican stud
There’s five Cinderellas and some leather drags
I almost fell into my mug
And some Homeboys looking for problems down here from the Bronx
you’ll never see those faces again
And Johnny Rio and Rotten Rita
you’ll never hear their stories again
Especially when I see that you’re not around
and a crack team from Washington Heights
The boys from Avenue B and the girls from Avenue D
a Tinkerbell in tights
in Latin, Greek or Spic
There’s no Three Bananas or Brandy Alexander
dishing all their tricks
Especially when I know you’ve gone away
she’s with the “jive five 2 plus 3”
And the girls for pay dates are giving cut rates
or else doing it for free
And I don’t want to hear it anymore
I got to get my head above my knees
But it makes me sad and sad makes me mad
and then I start to freeze
In the back of my mind I was afraid that they meant you
At the Halloween parade
At the Halloween parade
See you next year, at the Halloween parade
