Here I am in the 1800's. Can't get boots like that anymore. Saw Patti Smith last night, giving a reading, she was, not me, at Benaroya Hall. Talk about boots.

You probably can't see them, but I know they're there, my boots I mean. Thick leather, half way up my calves, thin-sliced thong laces.

Here's what I learned from Patti Smith: talk plain, and keep working.

During the on-stage interview, music critic Charles Cross asked, "You've collaborated with many artists over the years. Who would you like to collaborate with next?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then "Russell Crowe," she replied.

"He's got his own band, so I wonder if you're thinking as an actor or as a musician."

"As a girl," said Patti.

She told how she met Allen Ginsberg. One day she was really hungry. (Many stories began this way. I think she was really hungry for a lot of years.) She searched the apartment she shared with Robert Maplethorpe and came up with 55 cents to get a cheese sandwich at the automat, walked there, put the money in and the door wouldn't open.

"Can I help?" someone behind her asked. She'd seen him before - Allen Ginsberg. He put another dime in and the sandwich came out. The price had gone up to 65 cents. They sat down. He was talking about Whitman, and asked her a question about what poets she liked.

She said something I forget, but it may have been about Rimbaud, with whom she was infatuated.

"You're a girl," he said.
"Is there a problem?" she asked. "Do I have to give the sandwich back now?"