Soul, Man: Taki 183 Fights the Bugaloo Boulevards to a Draw

BACK IN THE bugaloo boulevards of my youth, there were diddyboppers who roamed the midnight streets. They were haunters of alleys and pool halls, riders in the rooftop gang fights, bottle battalions. They were knights who jousted with sticks and played with death in the rubble of empty lots and in the desolation of beer canned and condomed city parks. They were slouchers and jailbirds, reckless fugitives who stood on street corners and joked with each other about doing time.