'Forced Entries' - a book review

Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973 by Jim Carroll
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I enjoyed reading Jim Carroll's movement from all out junkie in NYC to mostly clean weedhead in California then traveling back to NYC to re-experience it like a challenge he was taking on for himself in his new sparkly dried out persona. - may he rest in peace - You almost think the kid didn't stand much of a chance, hobnobbing with celebrity at Max's and getting dissed by Warhol over the phone, because Warhol only wanted to talk to him when he was wired on speed (and recorded these phone calls apparently). Great street level perspective of NYC in the early seventies. Jim Carroll is an brutally honest sorta writer, so be prepared to go under carpets with him and hangout with fragments of cheese doodles and mites. Or inside a festering abscess. He certainly won't glorify substance abuse or addiction, so you don't need to worry about your children. Or do you? I found the first half of the book a little harder to get through, a lot of socializing with Ginsberg and name dropping (though anyone could be envious to hang out with William Burroughs and Bob Dylan for a night). Sometimes I felt he was writing to impress his celebrity buds. But mostly I admire Jim Carroll, I consider him a strong writer and the survivor we know by his Basketball Diaries. This book was supposed to be a sorta sequel to that one. He didn't stand a chance as a kid himself going deep on the streets, yet he always respected the muse and was a real creative mind, and a local new yorker in his heart. The second half of the book I found a bit clearer, more honest, and particularly his return from Bolinas to NYC. The last quarter of the book was a straight read, I hunkered down in my apartment and really got into it. It ends well, I mean, more intimate and heartfelt. A good read.


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K Covers & Reviews Dylan's Rainy Day Woman #12 & #35

This is a cover song I performed, of Dylan's 'Rainy Day Woman #12 and #35'.
From the Blonde on Blonde album. I hope you like it. 
I used to listen to this song when I was a kid, and sing along. 
I feel like Dylan is telling us:  Hey, you don't have to be so sensitive, honey,
everybody faces criticism on all sides. Keep doing your thing. You're not alone! 
The vocals come off irreverent, light and easy, but I think the message is real and 
real painful underneath. 

The repetition of words plays out like the meaning of the song. You know when you 
finally found your courage to bring your voice, your truth out into the open, expecting 
people to shut up and listen...right... and then what results is getting 'stoned'. 
No, not getting high (though self-medicating the pain of repetitive abuse 
in any form, often verbal, could be a common reaction to character assassins). 
This kinda stoned here is more like Shirley Jackson's kinda Stoning  (her story, 'The Lottery').
Getting attacked the old-fashioned medieval way. An onslaught of rocks. 
This is how people were once summarily executed. Today they use combo drugs 
and lethally inject you. Or sever your head with a machete. Maybe not so evolved
as we would hope. 

What i got from Dylan, was a feeling maybe he was feeling being in the spotlight
as a star, a showman, a celebrated musician and mind. The character assassination
which comes along with celebrity. How the media analyzes every word you say, every note you play.
They look for ways to break you down, to prove you're not perfect. Even when all you
might be saying is "hey, I am real!" It's not your fault they put you up as a deity. All you
were doing was selflessly sharing songs, putting your passion on play over the airwaves 
for whomever would hear. Trying to spread the love comes from your beating heart.

But the feeling is universal. Because everyone is sensitive from time to time. Some more than
others. And some are better at hiding vulnerability. Anyone can hear this song and relate. 
Anyone can find happiness, just singing along.