Turbulence: A Life

Its a full moon on a hot, August night in Greenwich Village. A young man turns the corner on Broadway, saunters along East 11th St., and suddenly stops and stares. He squints. He rubs his eyes. Half way down the block, a magnificent 17th century refectory table sits in the middle of the sidewalk. Spluttering candles in a pair of Elizabethan pricket sticks shed a mysterious, magical light on a scene that is as surreal as anything in a Fellini film. At one end of the table, a beautiful blonde plucks at the strings of a golden harp while at the other end, Mo (aka Maurice Margules) holds court in a throne-like Rhenish chair. Sipping from a bottle of beer, he chews on the stump of a dead cigar and flips steaks on his hibachi grill. They’re a tradition, these summer banquets at Metro.