Well, CBGB closed. NYT Link. I'm sad. I'd never been there, don't care for many of the bands who played there (though I like Blondie and the Talking Heads), and would've detested sitting around with the tranvestites and pseudo-existentialist artists that called it their hang out. If you had told me that it shut down in 1989, I would've believed you. Still, it saddened me to hear that it would close.
It's interesting that many people, including rather conservative ones like me, are saddened by the closing of CBGB. Let's face it, the place was skunk pit. Its graffiti-filled walls reflected the graffiti-filled souls of its denizens.
Still, it was a little hole in the wall where people could escape conventional American life, which, though good is many respects, needs to be escaped occasionally. It was a place where people could buck the system . . . a system that needs to be bucked occasionally. It was a place where people could be (incredibly) different, and America is better for having such places.
Its closing also marks the passing of that man whose passing makes everyone a bit nervous: Father Time.
