This club is in the basement of my building, in which 25 families live, including young children and inform elderly. This club has been an absolute nightmare for we who "live upstairs." .... They seem to deliberatly not care that we cannot sleep at night, especially on the weekends, until after 4 a.m. because of the loud bass beat that literally throbs through the building and shakes the walls. I implore all to please DON'T PATRONIZE THIS CLUB! It is just a money-grubbing operation that doesn't care who it inconveniences as it just strives to rake in the cash. ... The new Obama era is here and it's time to stop being so self-centered, ya'll -- get with the program, grow up, and contribute to the quality of life in our community instead of destroying it in your own self-indulgence. AND LET US SLEEP!
Inundated by complaints about noise from raucous bargoers and taxi horn honking, police blitzed Avenue B with a full-scale “shock-and-awe” operation last Friday night.
Blanketing the avenue with 25 to 30 officers on foot, in patrol cars and vans — as well as on horseback to provide visual presence — police targeted quality-of-life and moving-vehicle violations from 8:30 p.m. to 4:30 a.m., issuing a total of 99 summonses, making two arrests and towing seven cars.
Mr. Smith, who is white, said that patrons were not being turned away because of the color of their skin but because the bar has a policy against admitting patrons who do not adhere to its unwritten dress code.
“It just so happens that more people of a certain minority wear these things than others,” Mr. Smith said. “But I don’t want white trash either, or Jersey Shore boys.”
“Superdive made a lot of us into activists,” a 58-year-old former social worker named Dale Goodson told Capitalnewyork.com, which offered a fascinating history of Superdive.
So, what brand of humanity is considered undignified to a guy who spends his days shepherding the underclass?
Frat boys. Solid men in Big Ten regalia. Business types who spent their college years learning about balance sheets instead of transgressive modes of self-actualization. To these, the East Village can be as intolerant as a monocle-wearing English aristocrat from a P.G. Wodehouse novel, gazing down upon the polloi and pronouncing them a little too hoi.
Community Board 3, at a meeting in which residents carried signs reading (really) “Not in my backyard,” last month opposed one businessman’s request for a liquor license at a new space to replace a former bar at 34 Avenue A — without even listening to his proposal. Silence a dissenting voice? Not very “Rent.”
Or maybe very “Rent” indeed. A bohemian’s idea of anarchy always seems to come with a surprisingly detailed set of standards. The story of the East Village might be how little things have changed — it’s still a cramped little hipster Vatican suspicious of outsiders.
But if your neighborhood is steeped in youthful rebellion, don’t be too outraged when free-spirited types come flocking around in a mad celebration of twentysomething exuberance. And don’t hate them just because their hero is Rex Ryan instead of Allen Ginsberg.
"The Lower East Side felt like it was over a while ago, but [Max Fish] is a very symbolic closing," said author Richard Price, who used the neighborhood as a backdrop to his best seller "Lush Life."
"There are no neighborhoods in Manhattan anymore. South of Harlem, it feels like a bunch of districts where rich people can crash."
"The Lower East Side will always have some kind of edge until they manage to kick out the Latino community," said Rose. "A lot of people get pissed off that it's not what it used to be, but it's still better than SoHo."
