Every once
in a while, you find yourself in a place that transforms you. Your reality
shifts a little bit, if only for a moment.
You gain a heightened sense of intellect, experience, something beyond
your usual world. (The brilliant
scholar Sharon Zukin would call this experience “liminality.”)
One of those great liminal
experiences for me was on
It was a true urban
neighborhood. The whole world was thrown
together in a ten-block area. Eclectic houses, eclectic people. Churches, tattoo parlor, coffee house,
bars—saints to sinners, all in a row. Awesome!
There was the used-book shop,
where the owner—a small and quiet man who seemed to make his mind up about
whether or not he liked you—pointed out the history section to me. The aisles were maybe 30” wide, but the books
seemingly ran from floor to ceiling! It was great!
There was the coin shop (my
son is becoming a collector, so we look out for places like this). Here, men smoking gigantic cigars tried to
explain to me how the
Anyway, I did an internet
search on Pete Peterson and there was nothing.
That was some time ago—maybe something’s out there now. Just in case, I wanted to have a few words on
the information superhighway about this impressive musician. (I have more to
say about him on the “brilliant” page.)
How to begin? His music is not written down, he sits and it
just flows. The timing of his music is
sometimes set to the human heartbeat at rest.
It’s intriguing. Entertaining. Liminal. He’s a musician
who can actually make a living being a musician! That alone says something good. Of course, he’s never too far from
If you’re in