Why the frenzy to get into Trader Joe's this morning? Thanksgiving rush?
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Noted
Friday, November 21, 2008
Waiting for Mary (and the camera guy to show more of Debbie Harry's legs)
Here's Pere Ubu doing "Waiting for Mary" on "Michelob Presents Night Music," the NBC late-night TV show hosted by Jools Holland and David Sanborn. On from 1988 to 1990. Debbie Harry is along here for the show.
Labels:
Deborah Harry,
music videos we really like,
Pere Ubu
EV Grieve Etc.: Mourning edition
The Dolls of Avenue B (East of Bowery)
Debbie Harry: Trailblazer (Punk Turns 30)
When lofts were new to NYC (Runnin' Scared)
On New Year’s Eve, the Knitting Factory will close for good -- Has Manhattan become too soulless for the famed club, or is it the other way around? (NYPress, via Grub Street)
Why there may be more tourists than usual at PDT, Death & Co. and other "secret" underground clubs around town: They were featured this month in United Airlines' magazine (Hemispheres)
The old-school charms of Arturo's (Jeremiah's Vanishing NY)
Why Wall Street will really need to bailed out by 2100 (Red Green and Blue)
101 reasons to heart NYC (The 405)
Real World Brooklyn on Avenue B: Find out what happens when... (NYPress)
Take a trip down Charles Lane (Greenwich Village Daily Photo)
Those "historic" eyesores (A Stitch in Haste)
Something new and different for Allen Street: A restaurant! (BoweryBoogie)
Historic designation for Trash & Vaudeville? (Esquared)
NY cheesecake: Chloe Sevigny in a bikini (The Superficial)
Just four shopping days left until the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Annex NYC opens!
And The Times has a preview of sorts today.
Well, that's all I need to see! And $26!? Fuck me! I'm going to go twice! I shouldn't be so sarcastic. I'm sure it will be a rockin' good time. Anyway, I'm already standing in line for the opening. I'm with Alex and Hunter-Gatherer. Just keep them away from the Billy Joel! OK, OK...lies. Anyway, some photos from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Annex press conference from last August courtesy of the CBGB Web site:
Question: Bloomy looks so natural behind the wheel of Springsteen's '57 Cadillac. Think he has ever even driven a car?
Bonus!
The best rock and roll photo that I've seen of late? Hunter-Gatherer has it today.
The Clash looked down from a wall-size 1978 photograph at a roomful of workmen sawing, measuring, painting and lugging. Vintage amplifiers were wheeled in from the chill outside, passing by plexiglass exhibition cases, Bruce Springsteen’s tarp-covered 1957 Chevrolet and a 26-foot scale model of Manhattan. Then came the heads-up.
“Here comes the phone booth,” somebody said, and in rolled the wooden phone box from CBGB, plastered with decades-old stickers like a punk sarcophagus. Workers stood it up beside graffitied wall sections from that landmark club, along with two of its loudspeakers and a metal frame for the “CBGB & OMFUG” awning that hung over 315 Bowery until the place closed two years ago.
These were among the hundreds of artifacts being prepared for the opening on Tuesday of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Annex NYC, a $9 million branch of the Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland. The Annex, in a 25,000-square-foot basement space at 76 Mercer Street in SoHo — upstairs, facing Broadway, is an Old Navy store — was created as a smaller, quicker offshoot of the headquarters.
A trip through should take about 90 minutes, and costs $26; in Cleveland, where admission is $22, the full experience takes four or five hours. As in Cleveland, you can hardly turn a corner in the Annex without bumping into a smashed guitar, yellowed lyric sheet or pointy bustier.
Well, that's all I need to see! And $26!? Fuck me! I'm going to go twice! I shouldn't be so sarcastic. I'm sure it will be a rockin' good time. Anyway, I'm already standing in line for the opening. I'm with Alex and Hunter-Gatherer. Just keep them away from the Billy Joel! OK, OK...lies. Anyway, some photos from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Annex press conference from last August courtesy of the CBGB Web site:
Question: Bloomy looks so natural behind the wheel of Springsteen's '57 Cadillac. Think he has ever even driven a car?
Bonus!
The best rock and roll photo that I've seen of late? Hunter-Gatherer has it today.
Survival of the independents
From an editorial in The Villager this week titled "Helping small stores"...a few excerpts:
A main victim of the city’s development boom has inarguably been the small businessperson, as mom-and-pop shops struggle to operate in a dense metropolis increasingly driven by real estate interests.
But with the recent economic meltdown — a reality check that exposed Wall St.’s avarice — some small businesses have received a precarious stay of execution as the market chills and rents freeze in place.
While not the best circumstances for a reprieve, the current economic situation does raise interesting questions about ensuring the survival of independent, locally owned retail businesses.
From restaurants and grocers to hardware stores and barbershops, the plight of Village- and Downtown-area mom-and-pop stores has been well publicized, as neighborhood institutions like the Jefferson Market face rising rents and competition from chain operations.
...
In the end, much responsibility lies with us — the consumers — to support our local stores by patronizing them.
Without our support, the city’s diversity of offerings will give way to a streetscape of banks, chain drugstores and fast-food restaurants. And a Starbucks on every corner.
[Photo by Jeremiah Moss]
Brazen entry in the per-man, per-hour moving wars
This past summer, I -- exclusively -- was on the front lines covering the ugliest battle this neighborhood has seen since the 10 (or so) FroYo places opened within 50 yards of each other. Yes, of course I'm talking about the per-man, per-hour moving wars.
Just to freshen your memory:
And now! A new player has entered the market, brazenly slapping up these fliers along First Avenue:
Whoa. $22 an hour!? What, does Lindsay Lohan show up or something? These guys been working in, say, Dubai or someplace where they're not in a repression (recession-depression, you know)? Given that gas prices have plummeted and money is tight all around, you'd think people would be charging less, not more. Why wouldn't someone just go to the guy charging $16 an hour? What am I missing?
Just to freshen your memory:
And now! A new player has entered the market, brazenly slapping up these fliers along First Avenue:
Whoa. $22 an hour!? What, does Lindsay Lohan show up or something? These guys been working in, say, Dubai or someplace where they're not in a repression (recession-depression, you know)? Given that gas prices have plummeted and money is tight all around, you'd think people would be charging less, not more. Why wouldn't someone just go to the guy charging $16 an hour? What am I missing?
Looking at Life (via Google)
Morning time sucker: Search millions of photographs from the Life magazine archives, from the 1750s to today, thanks to Google.
Here are a few shots that I liked from the neighborhood:
"Members of the 10th Street artists group, a loose group of abstract expressionist artists, dancing during a party at artist Milton Resnick's studio." From 1956.
"Peter Stuyvesant Village Housing Project." From 1949.
"A group of artists bringing work into the show at the Tanager Gallery on 10th Street." (Which was 90 E. 10th St.) From 1956.
"Overshot of East 10th Street." From 1956. (Anyone recognize the block...?)
Here are a few shots that I liked from the neighborhood:
"Members of the 10th Street artists group, a loose group of abstract expressionist artists, dancing during a party at artist Milton Resnick's studio." From 1956.
"Peter Stuyvesant Village Housing Project." From 1949.
"A group of artists bringing work into the show at the Tanager Gallery on 10th Street." (Which was 90 E. 10th St.) From 1956.
"Overshot of East 10th Street." From 1956. (Anyone recognize the block...?)
More photo fun: Catching up with Then/Now
As you may know, Times photograher David W. Dunlap has been revisiting some of the sites he shot for 1978's "The City Observed: New York," a guidebook to Manhattan by Paul Goldberger, who was then the architecture critic for the Times. (He's now at The New Yorker.)
The series started on Sept. 11, and has been running every Thursday. Dunlap explains his assignment:
You can see the whole series here.
The series started on Sept. 11, and has been running every Thursday. Dunlap explains his assignment:
Because I can still remember what the weather was like on the days I took these pictures, what the city sounded and smelled like, I was startled to look through my contact sheets recently and realize how much Manhattan had changed. New York did not just crawl out of its near-collapse in the mid-70s, it had boomed almost without interruption. Towers were inserted. Landmarks were deleted. And even in cityscapes that looked unchanged, I knew that far wealthier occupants -- residential and commercial -- could now be found behind familiar old facades.
My editors and I thought that pairing photos from then and now would be a graphic way to examine the phenomenon of urban churn that so defines this city. The series will visit a dozen or so neighborhoods, uptown and downtown, before the end of 2008. Each diptych tells its own tale, but the overall story is clear: It doesn't take much longer than a generation for New York to regenerate itself completely.
You can see the whole series here.
Can a borough sue?
Ashlee Simpson-Wentz and her rock-star husband Pete Wentz are now parents. They named their son Bronx Mowgli Wentz. Will he be friends with Brooklyn Beckham?
Noted (and with apologies)
I don't know why I do this. Anyway, this article seems to be floating around out there in the interwebs -- different sites, different dates, but all by the same author. It is titled "New York travel inspired by romantic films."
Travelling the City is like watching or experiencing what we see in the movies or any TV series. If it looks good in the movies, well, I have to say, my instinct one way or the other tells me I want to be there too! New York gives us the thrill of experiencing shopping, dining, be entertained and be romantic.
If you are a fan of ‘Sex and the City’, the first thing that you will remember is watching Carrie Bradshaw (or Sarah Jessica Parker) and her addiction to shoes along with her fashionable dresses. What do you do? SHOP GALORE! One can never go wrong in shopping at Big Apple. Prepare your Manolos or Marc Jacobs to fill your shopping pleasure with sophistication and style at Barneys Madison Avenue.
Not done with shopping? Madison Avenue is where you will find the top end department store filled with American and European designers like Saks Fifth Avenue. Of course who can forget the transformation of Anne Hathaway on the Devil Wears Prada. Make time for celebrity designer shops (Calvin, Giorgio) and fashion house boutiques (Prada, Chanel) in Madison Avenue.
One of the feel good movies with unforgettable wedding proposal to date is Sweet Home Alabama. Why? While others go for a romantic setting at the beach or high end restaurants, Patrick Dempsey picked the perfect spot for a girl (Reese Witherspoon) to choose her own engagement ring at Tiffany’s. While there is a selection of jaw-dropping engagement rings for the bride to be, fine items for men are available and even for babies. Undoubtedly, Tiffany’s remains a girl’s best friend.
After shopping fashionably, and hopefully spending wisely, it is time to perk up your social life. Sex and the City’s famous girlfriends - Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha shows us their ritual revolving with friends and loved ones is by dining out. Despite the countless fine dining restaurants in Soho the City also offers funky and inexpensive ethnic restaurants in East Village.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Weather on the 00s: It's not that cold out, OK?
Was 32 degrees this morning at the usual time. Wind chill made it feel like 27, said the Weather Channel. On the bus, people from the neighborhood were dressed for a trip to Siberia. The boy was cranky. He told his mother he was too hot. "You can't take off your scarf or you'll get sick," she threatened. He continued to whine. She finally relented. "OK, you can take off one of your hats."
Giving thanks one week early: Port 41 edition
Thank God that dingy little corners of New York City still exist that house the likes of Port 41.
To hear some people describe Port 41, you'd think they had been hanging out upstairs with Dean Stockwell and Dennis Hopper at This Is It in Blue Velvet. Hardly. C'mon, the place has a Web site and flat-screen TVs showing sports, mind you. But! Depending on what time of day (they open at 10 a.m.!) you hit Port 41, conveniently located underneath the Port Authority bus ramp on the north side of 41st Street near Ninth Avenue, you may sense a menacing undercurrent. Which I find comforting. Anyway, any place located 100 feet from Port Authority will attract a variety of interesting characters. Like the hustlers with some great "I-just-got-out-of-prison-can-you-loan-me-$50-I'll-pay-you-back-next-week" stories. Or the people who wander in and stay a suspiciously long time in the men's room.
So there are plenty of attractions here. The beer is mostly reasonable. And, like Rudy's, there are free hot dogs. Which I've never actually tried. Not to mention the bartenders wear bikinis. (Yes, yes -- a few other places in Manhattan have bikini-clad bartenders...)
Has the place has been spruced up a little bit? There are now three 42-inch flat-screen TVs strategically placed around the bar. And weren't there more pool tables in that huge back room? And has there always been a neon coat check sign? (Usually not in a bar-reviewing mode when I'm here.) That's OK. Despite the newish additions, Port 41 still looks on the, uh, rundown side. Which I also find comforting. I'm sticking to one of the booths, by the way. The stuffed hippopotamus is still mounted on the wall. And hey, where did that MP3 juke come from? Ohh! Van Halen! Slayer! Perfect! Now if I could only see.
I hesitated writing about Port 41, which took over the space that once housed Tobacco Road and Savoy Road. But I want to appreciate this place while it's around. In any event, given my most frequent visits, it's hardly a secret. The after-work crowd was split between construction workers and back-slapping chuckleheads in shirts and ties. (And several women in office attire.) Everyone got along just fine, too.
Oh, there's this. My failed attempt at capturing a little slice of the evening, and the people singing along to Van Halen's "Unchained."
[The bikini photos are via Dive In New York City. It was too dark for my shots. Of the bartender]
Bonus!
Reviews of Port 41 by the always entertaining yelpers at Yelp:
I think I have officially found the shadiest bar in New York.. Death Metal blaring, the waitress looked like a meth head, was wearing a bikini top.. Another girl in a bikini top sat there getting felt up by this disgusting guy.. And when I say being felt up, it was close to nudity.. All the while he kept saying "I am the devil, you are an angel, do you want to f*ck the devil" He kept saying this over and over again.. He eventually slammed a bottle of beer on the ground and thats when I left.. This was at 4 pm mind you..
The place was completely dark, it was so weird.. If you are looking for trouble, I think you can find it there.. Its directly across the street from Port Authority, I couldnt imagine this place after dark..
One star? Jesus! This sounds like a rare six-out-of-five-star review!
Here's a more reasonable three-star review:
Probably one of the crappiest dive bars left in Midtown. So crappy it was entertaining. Some homeless guy was passed out in the booth behind us. The bartender was wearing a bikini top, and the crowd was entirely men and some looked like they were on drugs. Drink prices were on the cheap side.
And FIVE stars:
As you read my review of Port 41, please imagine that I am speaking these words to you in a heavy German accent and it is 1925 and the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray" is playing on the jukebox.
I realize that this request is as strange as it is impossible, but that is Port 41: strange and impossible. You see, Port 41 should not be. Port 41 is the giant hippo head hanging on the wall. It is missing an eye, and it wants you to stay for another round. Port 41 is the homeless kid, who says he is a marine. He has dirty finger nails,and says he has a Polynesian wife he married on the telephone whom he has never seen.
This doesn't even begin to explain Port 41. Go there and you might find dullness, you might find horror, or you might find magic. Anything is possible.
To hear some people describe Port 41, you'd think they had been hanging out upstairs with Dean Stockwell and Dennis Hopper at This Is It in Blue Velvet. Hardly. C'mon, the place has a Web site and flat-screen TVs showing sports, mind you. But! Depending on what time of day (they open at 10 a.m.!) you hit Port 41, conveniently located underneath the Port Authority bus ramp on the north side of 41st Street near Ninth Avenue, you may sense a menacing undercurrent. Which I find comforting. Anyway, any place located 100 feet from Port Authority will attract a variety of interesting characters. Like the hustlers with some great "I-just-got-out-of-prison-can-you-loan-me-$50-I'll-pay-you-back-next-week" stories. Or the people who wander in and stay a suspiciously long time in the men's room.
So there are plenty of attractions here. The beer is mostly reasonable. And, like Rudy's, there are free hot dogs. Which I've never actually tried. Not to mention the bartenders wear bikinis. (Yes, yes -- a few other places in Manhattan have bikini-clad bartenders...)
Has the place has been spruced up a little bit? There are now three 42-inch flat-screen TVs strategically placed around the bar. And weren't there more pool tables in that huge back room? And has there always been a neon coat check sign? (Usually not in a bar-reviewing mode when I'm here.) That's OK. Despite the newish additions, Port 41 still looks on the, uh, rundown side. Which I also find comforting. I'm sticking to one of the booths, by the way. The stuffed hippopotamus is still mounted on the wall. And hey, where did that MP3 juke come from? Ohh! Van Halen! Slayer! Perfect! Now if I could only see.
I hesitated writing about Port 41, which took over the space that once housed Tobacco Road and Savoy Road. But I want to appreciate this place while it's around. In any event, given my most frequent visits, it's hardly a secret. The after-work crowd was split between construction workers and back-slapping chuckleheads in shirts and ties. (And several women in office attire.) Everyone got along just fine, too.
Oh, there's this. My failed attempt at capturing a little slice of the evening, and the people singing along to Van Halen's "Unchained."
[The bikini photos are via Dive In New York City. It was too dark for my shots. Of the bartender]
Bonus!
Reviews of Port 41 by the always entertaining yelpers at Yelp:
I think I have officially found the shadiest bar in New York.. Death Metal blaring, the waitress looked like a meth head, was wearing a bikini top.. Another girl in a bikini top sat there getting felt up by this disgusting guy.. And when I say being felt up, it was close to nudity.. All the while he kept saying "I am the devil, you are an angel, do you want to f*ck the devil" He kept saying this over and over again.. He eventually slammed a bottle of beer on the ground and thats when I left.. This was at 4 pm mind you..
The place was completely dark, it was so weird.. If you are looking for trouble, I think you can find it there.. Its directly across the street from Port Authority, I couldnt imagine this place after dark..
One star? Jesus! This sounds like a rare six-out-of-five-star review!
Here's a more reasonable three-star review:
Probably one of the crappiest dive bars left in Midtown. So crappy it was entertaining. Some homeless guy was passed out in the booth behind us. The bartender was wearing a bikini top, and the crowd was entirely men and some looked like they were on drugs. Drink prices were on the cheap side.
And FIVE stars:
As you read my review of Port 41, please imagine that I am speaking these words to you in a heavy German accent and it is 1925 and the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray" is playing on the jukebox.
I realize that this request is as strange as it is impossible, but that is Port 41: strange and impossible. You see, Port 41 should not be. Port 41 is the giant hippo head hanging on the wall. It is missing an eye, and it wants you to stay for another round. Port 41 is the homeless kid, who says he is a marine. He has dirty finger nails,and says he has a Polynesian wife he married on the telephone whom he has never seen.
This doesn't even begin to explain Port 41. Go there and you might find dullness, you might find horror, or you might find magic. Anything is possible.
The MTA doesn't care how you get to the west side
The MTA's grim 2009 budget proposal eliminates the M8, the local crosstown route that links the East Village and the West Village. (Daily News)
This week's sign of the apocalypse
Gene Simmons rang the Opening Bell at the NYSE yesterday. This after the clown did the honors last Friday. Oh, and the Dow dropped 427 points yesterday. Can't wait to watch Family Jewels! (Dealbreaker)
Labels:
Gene SImmons,
Kiss,
NYSE,
shit you can't make up,
Wall Street
EV Grieve Etc.: Mourning edition
"Over the past two years, Frank Bruni, the New York Times' restaurant critic has mentioned the East Village in articles over 35 times, according to a Lexis-Nexis search, while at the other end of the spectrum, neighborhoods like Harlem (7 mentions), Chinatown (4), Washington Heights (1), and East Harlem (0) were written about much less frequently." (Portfolio)
Exclusive research from East Village Podcasts: The East Village dominates in hookah bars per square mile worldwide.
Rehab on Avenue B can be all yours for $350,000 (Grub Street)
In case you need a vintage Pucci pantsuit on the fly, just head over to Cooper Square. (Colonnade Row)
The stuff workers leave lying around (BoweryBoogie)
Don't laugh: This is how Catherine Zeta-Jones met Michael Douglas
Have seen these signs several places around the neighborhood. Spotted this one on Stanton Street near Nolfolk in the LES.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I'm so wearing this to Momofuku Bakery and Milk Bar
There's now a company selling the New York Cheesecake Head for Jets fans. (Or someone who really likes cheesecake.) As a response to the Green Bay Packer Cheeseheads, I suppose.
[Via SimononSports]
[Via SimononSports]
Citysearch gets fancy makeover
Citysearch busts out a new look. (It's still in beta...) As Cnet reports, "there's a more streamlined and Ajax-y interface, but a few important features have been tweaked as well." Citysearch has expanded to 75,000 towns and neighborhoods, "meaning that you can narrow down your focus to New York's East Village or Los Angeles' Culver City."
Indeed, you can now narrow down your focus to either the East Village OR Alphabet City! Subtle!
Indeed, you can now narrow down your focus to either the East Village OR Alphabet City! Subtle!
That sinking feeling
The Post gets into the dive bar spirit today, offering up its listicle of the city's top-10 dives. I can't say there are any surprises on the list. Or let's say shockers. Was glad to see the International get some love. Co-owner Shawn Dahl is also quoted. In any event, I always find such lists pointless, except when I make them. (Joking!)
Uh, here's the list:
MARS BAR, 25 E. First St.
RUDY'S BAR & GRILL, 627 Ninth Ave.
BLARNEY COVE, 510 E. 14th St.
TURKEY'S NEST, 94 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn
HOLIDAY COCKTAIL LOUNGE, 75 St. Mark's Place
MILANO'S BAR, 51 E. Houston St.
SUBWAY INN, 143 E. 60th St.
JOHNNY'S, 90 Greenwich Ave.
O'CONNOR'S, 39 Fifth Ave, Brooklyn
INTERNATIONAL BAR, 120 ½ First Ave.
Guess there are no dive bars in Queens or the Bronx or Staten Island. Anyway! Quibble away.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)