A long time ago when a lot of us worked at City Limits (I was its music editor), I asked Michele Kirsch to write a column for us. She was (and remains) an old and fabulous pal from our NME days and she always told extraordinary stories: about her days in her native NYC, about 1980s downtown, about her life in London, anything was game and everything was strange. She was writing the folk column at CL in those days, too, and we always knew when a story was about to begin because she’d push her typewriter forward and launch into one. “It’s true, mister!” was how they always ended up and they were always hysterical. In fact, that’s become a catchphrase for quite a few people.
The CIty Limits fax machine was on the ground floor and we were on its third floor. Mama Kirsch’s True Stories was a hit from its first week. Each time a new one arrived, a shout would ring out from downstairs: “Mama Kirsch’s in!” and the fax would be passed up the stairs, everyone reading it as it progressed upwards. Deborah Orr, one of the editors, quickly moved the True Stories into the main pages of the mag. The stories were unique: a kind of Cookie Mueller (minus the drugs) for our times. Come to think of it, Michele loved Cookie Mueller.
Things changed. City Limits was fatally wounded by the economic recession in the early 1990s. It was bought out. We all left. We did other things. Many of us have stayed in journalism to the detriment of sanity and income. And Michele Kirsch, after some time away, has resurrected the True Stories. Her WordPress page (see my earlier re-posting) reprints one of the original ones.
Can’t wait for more, and remember, they’re all true.
Find Mama K’s True Stories at: