I passed Jim Jarmusch once near the Bowery Whole Foods in Manhattan. He was rockin' that crazy _Eraserhead_ hairdo and drawing hard on a cigarette. He was taller than I'd thought he was and wearing a signature patterned button-down shirt, looking real cool, even though it was damn hot.
I had been walking for about an hour in that heat, and I did not look cool. I was dirty and sweaty and bedraggled, and I was wearing an ugly, unevenly faded pair of cropped khaki pants with a blood stain on the leg that were really only good for Read more