A winter's tale

Snow has fallen through the night, and we awake to the pure silent city. New York is so pretty when cloaked in December snow. Preparing to dress, I am reminded that today is the anniversary of the death of Mozart, so I lace up my black boots, choose a long black coat and happily greet the white flakes that are still falling.

I tramp through an alley that opens onto a street of cafés. I have a Turkish coffee and salute my friends who are observing the last days of Ramadan. A few doors down, I am offered a superb jelly doughnut to celebrate the seventh light of Hanukkah, which I gratefully accept. Then onward to my workspace. Schoolchildren are hurling snowballs. The postman rushes by, still taking the time to send a friendly wave. Energized by the optimistic air, I enter my small space and pace, mentally tackling the jobs ahead.

On December 30 and 31, my band, crew and a raucous crowd of foolhardy friends, fans and family will brave the weather to gather at Bowery Ballroom for the fifth consecutive year. The venue opened in June 1998; my band was invited to play its first New Year's Eve show and continues to do so, merging tradition with the new. The course of these nights depends on my present meditations, the communication of my band—Jay Dee Daugherty, Lenny Kaye, Oliver Ray, Tony Shanahan—and the mood and energy of the people. We welcome the opportunity to join in the pursuit of revelation, revolution, resolution and to have a real good time together.

Images of the year gone by flicker—my mental slide show. The beautiful mind of John Nash. The death of Paul Wellstone. The return of Arthur Lee. Palestine. Afghanistan. Jimmy Carter's Peace Prize. It's been a very active year: The 28th Annual New Year's Day Marathon Reading at St. Mark's Church in-the-Bowery. The benefit at the Warsaw club in Brooklyn, for the coalition against power plants. Performing "People Have the Power" with Oliver on the steps of the New York Stock Exchange, following Ralph Nader's address against corporate crime, social injustice and the threat of war. The Democracy Now! rallies in Washington Square. Protests at the UN. Caravanning from NYC to D.C. for the antiwar march on October 26. All Saints' Day performance in memory of my mother at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

My mother died in early fall. She will not be sitting at her usual table on the balcony at the Bowery Ballroom. I will miss her smiling and waving to everyone, and yelling, "Quit the yapping and get to the rock & roll!" Her irrepressible energy will be within me, though I seriously doubt that I will abstain from sparring with the crowd, delivering a few rants or retelling a few classic jokes.

I return home and resume my daily tasks. I fold the laundry as my daughter Jesse practices "Imagine" on the piano. In the evening, I take the F train to 57th Street to attend Susan Graham's performance of Hector Berlioz's Les Nuits d'été at Carnegie Hall. Miss Graham, resplendent in pale chiffon, delivers a breathtaking performance, possessing the strength and pathos required for such a difficult piece. Later, she graciously autographs my program, "With all wonderful blessings."

I feel very blessed as I race downtown to join my band members to rehearse for the 12th annual "Christmas Extravaganza," a benefit for the New York–based Food for Survival as well as several food banks in New Jersey, held December 7 at B.B. King's on 42nd St. Every year, the show offers a night of sparkling and ragtag renditions of favorite Christmas songs. We have chosen "Happy Xmas" by John and Yoko. At the end of the song, everyone joins in the poignant chorus, "War is over, if you want it, war is over now." As we are singing, I realize the words express the central theme for our Bowery shows. There is peace to wage and we will be ready. We end our rehearsal armed with resolve. Saying farewell, Oliver and I button our coats and head for the subway. The city is cloaked in snow. Time to go home, whisper good night, and dream of Mozart.

Patti Smith plays Bowery Ballroom December 29­Tuesday 31, 2002; Patti Smith and Oliver Ray read at the St. Mark's Poetry Project annual reading January 1, 2003.