The City That Was
The City That Was: Pranking Time Magazine with The Fantasia Protest
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. As April Fools’ Day approaches, I’m unavoidably reminded of my old friend
The City That Was: Weird Times at the Chinatown New Year’s Parade
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. Chinese New Year always reminds me of the only year when
The City That Was: An Evening With Charles Bukowski in My Living Room
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. It’s apparently some kind of special beer week in San Francisco, and
The City That Was: Making our Christmas White
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. Turning dream states into real world experiences was one of the things
The City That Was: Christmas at Normandy Lane in SF’s City of Paris
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. Forced against my better judgment to go to Union Square the other day,
The City That Was: Insider Jokes at the Aub Zam Zam
In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. Every so often, to avoid sinking into annoying nostalgia, it’s great to
The City That Was: Media Gets the Symbolic Shaft
Last week I had dinner with my old friend and roommate, “Chad Mulligan.” Unlike a lot of my Cacophony friends, “Chad” likes staying out of the limelight, but then, he doesn’t write, either—a task for which you’d better get some limelight, or a day job. Hanging with him reminded me of one