Staten Island and the Jug Band

post postmodernA hiatus from classic literature to mimic my weekend activities, even though read some Savage Detectives and The 42nd Parallel today.

Maduros are salted sweet plaintains. I once tried to open a plaintain with my fingernails, like a monkey. I hurt the tender skin underneath my fingernail, as when you clip your nails too short.

Staten Island is a magical place. It is far removed from the mainland and the large orange ferries move fast, perhaps fifteen or twenty knots, so that you arrive within fifteen minutes if you are on one of the larger ships and twenty-five if you’re on one of the smaller ones late at night. They’re free. Latenight the crew is drunk, they admitted this to us. They were good hardy folk.

We saw a jug band. There was a harmonica player with a washboard; a one string tub bass; a musical saw, which is played by running a violin, or maybe a viola, bow on a wiggling saw to create a Halloweeny sound; a ukelele, guitar, and I think that was it…No of course, there was the jug player!

The people we met had lived outside of Staten Island, but had returned to their glorious Island. The Statue of Liberty was glorious too and when you’re up close it looks like the wind is blowing her oxidized copper garment. I was entirely alive as I passed her.

We biked over the Manhattan Bridge on the way home and I didn’t yell as I did over the Brooklyn Bridge on the way there. I’ll get more post postmodern soon.

Published by Daniel Ryan Adler

Daniel was born in Brooklyn, NY, and has lived in Portland, Oregon. He studied literature and philosophy at NYU and creative writing at Edinburgh University. He is finishing an MFA in Fiction at University of South Carolina.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: