Today is, sadly or not, the last Summer
Previously on EV Grieve:
Takin' it to the streets like the Doobie Brothers
Summer loving had me a blast, Summer loving happened so fast
BENEFIT PERFORMANCE FOR MoRUS (Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space)
Occupy the Empty Space: Public Space is a Human Right
WHEN:
Friday, August 16 8-10 PM
WHERE:
Gallery Space CICNN151 (151 Avenue C) adjacent to MoRUS
WHAT:
Occupy the Empty Space is proud to produce its first benefit performance for MoRUS, the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space. We look forward to seeing you at Occupy the Empty Space: Public Space is a Human Right, on Friday, August 16, 2013, for an exciting lineup of plays, performance art, live music, and teach-ins from MoRUS Staff and Friends, celebrating the vital and creative community of MoRUS and public space advocacy!
A wake and vigil of considerable moment, lasting for the better part of 2 weeks , was held in the neighborhood at Merlin's corner . Some nights the sidewalk and street around the memorial were so densely packed with people that it seemed that everyone in the neighborhood and the surrounding communities was attending , crowded together ,all kinds of folks , from all professions and callings , from high and low paying their respects to Merlin .
There are few certainties in this changeable city. But on Avenue A and Sixth Street, a place that has been convulsed by change in recent years, one thing has remained constant through the riots and real-estate booms: Merlin, a 41-year-old homeless man who uses only one name, has made the intersection's southeast corner his residence for eight years. Neither blizzards nor blistering heat have routed him from atop a set of wooden pallets in front of a Con Edison substation.
"People move in and out of the neighborhood, but I never budge," he said last week, lounging beneath a pair of tattered umbrellas, his only guard against the sting of the sun. A stroke has left him partly paralyzed, and frostbite cost him several toes three winters ago.
To strangers, he is but another intrusion on the East Village's gritty streetscape, a reason to avert their eyes. But to many local residents, he is a cherished asset: a timekeeper, a message center, a town crier and a source of good, solid conversation. "Merlin is a social hub," said Tatiana Bliss, 25, a local artist. "If you're looking for someone, Merlin probably knows where they are. If you want to leave something for a friend, he'll make sure they get it. He makes this crazy city feel like a small town."
"The availability just follows the rhythms of the day — in the mornings during the rush to go to work there are no bikes, and after work there are no [parking spots] because everyone has brought them back.
When I first decided to use the bikes to ride to the train, I was late to work a few days because I searched a few stations around me, and couldn't find any bikes. Evenings have the exact opposite problem; on Monday evening, I checked 6th and B, 7th and A, then finally caught someone pulling out at St. Mark's and 1st and rushed to get into the spot.
I wasn't the only one slowly riding around in circles waiting for a free spot; I noticed at least 2 other riders that I kept intersecting. Somehow, weekends aren't that much better. On Saturday, I was late to meet a friend because I spent time again doing the checking-all-of-the-Citi Bike-stations dance. On a Saturday afternoon!
So, unfortunately, I think I might need to shift my thinking around the bikes as something that I can use when the opportunity arises, versus a reliable, regular transportation method.
I think our neighborhood really needs additional stations. I originally imagined a huge boost to the quality of life in the area, but it's not quite there yet."
"There have been a few signs of improvement recently, but not being able to find/dock a bike is still a frustrating issue. It used to be that if I left for work after 8:35 a.m., I knew not to expect to get a bike at my usual rack at 13th and A. Now it's less predictable — some days there might be a half-full rack, others all the bikes might have the red light on, and other's it'll be completely empty even if I'm early.
Same thing happens at night – if I leave work after a certain hour, I prepare myself for a trip around the East Village looking for a spot. Monday was a new record, when it took me 7 docks to find an open slot (13th and A, 10th and A, 14th and B, 12th and D, 9th and C, 5th and C, and 6th and B, until finally catching someone leaving at 7th and A). I think the most frustrating thing about those joyrides is that the app consistently says that openings are available at those docks.
I love the idea of Citi Bikes and still think they're the most exciting thing to happen to the city in a long time, but I hope they can pull this together."
[He] said his father is conscious, and will open his eyes if someone is in the room and talking to him. He can turn his head and point to people with his right arm, and can raise his right leg. But his left leg and ankle are injured, and he’s not moving that leg or his left arm, either.
He is also intubated — periodically put on a ventilator to help him breathe — and because the tube crosses over his vocal chords, he cannot currently talk.
In addition, as a result of brain injury suffered from the force of the impact, he has completely lost his memory, and currently doesn’t even recognize his own family members.
For many years, (’82 –’93) living at 60 Ave. B, Apt 2B, between 4th & 5th St., late at night, while laying in bed, I would hear wailings coming from the then named American Nursing Home, across the loading dock. It was a regular, nightly utterance — “arolegemmyt yato me air”, like hearing a cubistic coyote in the distant desert.
Again, another night lying in bed, say, 3:45 am, “aerol, aerol, osh oshh –mtwon”.
One night, when well oiled on mushrooms, it became clear to me.
“HAiRrrrOLDD, ET E OT O ERE”!!!
“HAROLD, GET ME OUT OF HERE”!
In the 80ies and into the 90ies, a grand yearly 4th of July party was held in the back seating area behind the loading dock. It was mainly a party for the staff, as the band hired yearly, was a sort of funk jazz R&B ensemble.
The old folks would be wheeled out and afflicted by the way too loud, amplified sound. You could see them pushing their arms forward, as if to push the offending sound away, as they then covered their ears, the staff trying to sell them on the musical offerings such as “Grooving, on a sunny afternoon, La La La.”
At some point, the lead singer, the MC, without any sense of irony, posed the question. “Does anyone here know who Old Blue Eyes is?” the one song in their set approaching era appropriateness for the audience.
After a few moments the band jumped into Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” — “And now the end is hear, and so I face the final curtain”.
It just felt, from my 2nd story window, a bit cruel ... and a bit funny too.
And so it went, and so it goes ...
There are five 1,200-square-foot two-bedroom, two-bathroom homes — two of which have private rooftop decks— and the sixth unit is a 900-square-foot ground level apartment, which has a private garden.
Through the changes of the Eighties, Nineties and the recent years, they still feel the same about their home.
"What a remarkable city!" Mel said passionately. "When I walk through the streets, however slowly, it keeps me alive."
There is no reason to pine for the good old days. They are still living them.
This sprawling East Village loft offers it all. It features great light from 3 different exposures, High ceilings, a brand new chef's kitchen, beautiful refinished hard wood floors, and an excellent location. Enter your spacious new home via keyed elevator and be blown away by the airy open feel. Perfect for entertaining and quiet evenings at home this Live/Work loft provides both flexibility and comfort. It is complete with a washer/dryer, 1.5 baths, a very large master bedroom, walk-in closet and a dining room ... you will be hard pressed to find a more convenient or inspiring location.
Name: Richard “Handsome Dick” Manitoba and son Jake, 10
Occupation: Lead Singer, The Dictators NYC, Owner of Manitoba’s bar, DJ, Sirius XM Radio Inc.
Location: Felix Millan Little League, East River Park
Time: 1 pm on Saturday, Aug. 10
I grew up in the Bronx. I’m an Eastern European Jew and my grandparents came over and settled around here, but they moved up to the Bronx when the Bronx was like Westchester. They wanted to get out of here because this was all tenements back in the old days. I started hanging out down here when I was 15 years old, around 1969. I’ve been living here since the mid-80s. I was always drawn to this neighborhood. Me and my friends went down to the Fillmore East to see concerts; I came down to comic book stores to buy Robert Crumb comics, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers.
I saw The Stooges — I saw Iggy when he got booed off the stage cutting his chest open at the Electric Circus ... I saw The Who, The Kinks for $5. We went to the Schaefer Music Festival at Central Park, I saw Ike and Tina Turner and the Ikettes and the Beach Boys, all for $3. That was what it was like growing up in New York. Everybody came to New York, so every weekend me and my friends would be like, where do you want to go? Who do you want to see?
This was the living theater, it was bohemia, it was the edge and we were all very attracted to the culture and the history and the history comes from the the Beat Generation, into the Hippies. I was sort of stuck between. For example, I’d go see The New York Dolls at The Mercer Arts Center and then I’d go see the Grateful Dead a few days later. I didn’t care — I liked both of them. Then a point came where CBGB opened up and we started playing this place called the Coventry in Queens, which was a famous club on Queens Boulevard. We used to see Joey Ramone before there was a band called the Ramones.
The Dictators were in that little space where The Dolls were breaking up. MC5 and the Stooges were kind of burning themselves out. And then along comes this band The Dictators. We weren’t there before Television or Patti Smith, but we were the first band from that little scene to get a record out in 1975 — Go Girl Crazy! So what happened was we made three albums, we broke up, we made reunion shows.
In the 90s, it was like we became sort of bigger stars than we ever were. You see, the generation right after your generation has to sort of distance themselves from you to be cool. You can’t say, “Oh yeah, this is cool.” It’s natural for a generation to distance themselves, but then the next generation comes in and now books have been written and mystiques have been developed. I’ve got a week of shows in the Midwest coming up, three weeks of shows in Spain and maybe a week in the West Coast in the spring. If I can do 30 to 40 shows a year, I’m able to scratch the rock-and- roll itch. I’ve got that in me.
I opened the bar 15 years ago. I was working at 2A on the corner of 2nd and A, and after five years of bartending I wanted more, so I got investors together and opened up Manitoba’s. And I’m a sober guy for almost 30 years. To me I look at the bar as a clubhouse. It’s Richie’s rock and roll clubhouse, that I get to do as long as I can be a good enough businessman to pay my bills and get everybody paid. I get to keep this great culture alive that seems to be dying all around me, replaced by hookah bars and hip hop.
Jake just pitched a complete game — a 10-3 win. It’s the best two out of three, so if they win one more they win the championship. The whole team jumped on him. I picked him up in the air. Three little Spanish girls, like 9,10,11 came over to him and said, “Come here, you’re cute.” He came running over and said, “Dad, those girls said I’m cute!” He was excited. Then they came by the game today to watch him play. When you can throw a baseball, chicks dig it.
Kubart, who lives in Greenpoint, was house-sitting for a friend in the East Village when he lost his beloved puppet, which he uses when he performs with his kids' band Tim and the Space Cadets.
Frankie Cordero, who has been a puppeteer on Sesame Street commercials and Comedy Central, made the most recent Nestor, a process that involved illustrators drawing markups for how the puppet needed to look.
Hilarious. A misbehaving Patti Smith (and Richard Sohl) with a very serious host (Alan Bangs) who keeps asking the same question and translates everything she says. Lenny Kaye tries to answer the question in the end.