Lucking out : my life getting down and semi-dirty in seventies New York
"'How lucky I was, arriving in New York just as everything was about to go to hell.' That would be in the autumn of 1972, when a very young and green James Wolcott arrived from Maryland, full of literary dreams, equipped with a letter of introduction from Norman Mailer, and having no idea what was about to hit him. Landing at a time of accelerating municipal squalor and, paradoxically, gathering cultural energy in all spheres as "Downtown" became...
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