On writing and times past

 I am going to leave you with this tonight, prior to retiring for the evening.

Ghosts of New York’s Glamorous Past Haunt an Empty Pub

An article from the New York Times about The Stork Club came across my feed earlier. It reminded me of times from a bygone era. When people would really get all dressed up and go out to see and be seen. It also reminded me of how things die when they need to, perhaps because they've outlived their purpose, or their lack of understanding of how they need to change to embrace a new paradigm that ultimately leads to their demise.

I never knew the history of this club. I am always fascinated by the history of social clubs and society in general (as most of you know). I became nostalgic, not for those times that were filled with racist attitudes and practices, but for New York and for going out and hanging with friends in swanky places, or not so swanky places, drinking, smoking, dancing and romancing. I also became wistful, missing my parents and how they would have done this in their day, with their friends, in their places (that they could afford to frequent) in Pittsburgh, PA.

And as for the writing bit - how cool would it have been to be a 'blogger'/social commentator of that time - yet not for the 'standard white privileged set', but for the cutting edge, the progressive, all inclusive. anti-racist set of people who needed and still need to be part of the fabric of culture/art/everything hip.