This is a picture of Jeremiah Tucker and I in front of the nightclub we were set to open on July 5. (Not sure what year it was, maybe 1978? 1983? Those times are still such a blur!) As you can see, we were optimistic, but unfortunately the whole thing suffered a few setbacks. For one, we didn't own (or rent) the property and the consequential lack of access prevented us from tending to certain details like decorations. I'm pretty sure we would have gotten people in the door if only we had been able to pry it open. Believe me, though, we had plenty of booze, a healthy portion of which had already been carefully siphoned into a giant watermelon. Despite that failed venture, I hope to work with Jeremiah again in the future. He's a heck of a guy, with a 14-carat mind, even though I suspect he has secretly made fun of the "Black Cat" t-shirt I wore to this year's 4th of July picnic. He's also a great writer, and his latest piece at McSweeney's is a scintillating read.
See you on the shooting range, Tucker(s)!
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