Something like....

In the olden days, there was a video game arcade where Max's Kansas City used to be. I played there many a night communing with Pacman and the ghost of Andy Warhol. My favorite game was called Crazy Climber. My little guy would frantically climb, windows shutting on his fingers, pots of flowers thrown on his head and the reward to have King Kong try to stomp you at the top. When he invariably fell, he'd cry, "Oh Noooooooooooo." It was a perfect metaphor for my life back then.

I've been seeing these little Pacman-like creatures appearing on the buildings around town. If one defines the past as my daughter did, "Yeah mom, I'm playing old time music, you know -- The Rolling Stones," then this is a fine and peculiar form of urban archaeology. They always make me smile.

Pacman

I laughed when I saw this on the side of a building in Chelsea. Pacman lives! And lest you think it is not connected to art, I first learned how to play pacman back in the late 70s in the space that used to be Max's Kansas City.

Max's Kansas City was the bar/salon of the psychedelic era. Up front were the heavies,including Willem de Kooning, Robert Rauschenberg, Carl Andre, and Larry Rivers. In the Back, Warhol presided while superstars, speed freaks, and transvestites vied for his attention, drenched in the blistering red of Dan Flavin's fluorescent light sculpture. You might see David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and more.

It was great to just stand on that floor drinking beer, playing pacman and my own personal favorite, crazy climber. Oh nooooooooooooo.