In no particular order:
-- Nick was the name of the old man who everyone thought was Burroughs.
-- Rachel, the bar dancer, was a librarian by day, I think at Cardozo.
-- I have two of those nun paintings
-- I have many Baby Gregor paintings and quite a bit of his record collection... many later became the "soundtracks" for Blacklips shows.
-- Ida later moved on to the REAL Second Avenue Deli(RIP) and has probably moved on to wherever else they have 86'd the Yankee Bean Soup.
-- Our own Pops Steiner had the misfortune to find Frank's body when she stopped by to drop off her records in the early afternoon after he died. I went to the wake at the funeral home in Bed Stuy, which featured a faux fireplace whose flames were electric bulbs behind a squeaky rotating plastic fire. This was in July or August and there was no air conditioning. They did, however, pass out little fans with the funeral director's face printed on them, I think I still have one.
--the stream in the Pyramid basement still runs, you know. it has been redirected and pumped outside and if you look curbside, you can see a small rubber hose that periodically emits a gush of water into the gutter. Since all that land east of First Avenue was originally marsh and mudflats, it's not surprising that there is still a stream.
-- And finally, the man with the paper bag hat. Al, the booze waterer, told me this story, so take it with an ounce of H2O...
Once upon a time, a man and his wife owned the real drugstore which later became the restaurant Pharmacy. The wife died a lengthy and painful death from cancer; the man lost his mind, along with the business and home and took to wandering the streets. Then, unlike now, the neighborhood took care of its own and he was fed by "Mama" at the REAL Odessa (RIP) and given shelter and cigarettes by Ray who owned the cigarette store on that block. The reasoning behind the bag on head eludes me, but it always reminded me of the "vinegar and brown paper" line from Jack and Jill. His crown was broken, no?