I was 19 the first time I heard Bob Phillips read. He was performing as a member of the Back to Jack troupe at the Center for Performing Arts at the University of Toledo. Bob has a distinctive voice, with a bit of smoker’s gravel and a particular way of enunciating that gives every word its proper weight. I remember he read a scene out of Big Sur where Jack is hungover, bemoaning his condition, his inability to abstain from drinking, and the sad status of the drunk in the world. Bob read this selection like he was born already familiar with Kerouac’s punctuation and cadence. It was the scene I most looked forward to hearing at subsequent Back to Jack performances.
