Still waiting on EV! The building is fixing a gas leak & it might take a month for DOB+ConEd approval. If anyone knows people, hit us up!
— Xi'an Famous Foods (@xianfoods) April 25, 2014@JocelynKowald soon...we are fixing up a tangle with DOB
— Xi'an Famous Foods (@xianfoods) May 28, 2014
Tonight is the first of the annual four Manhattanhenge events. Starting just around 8 p.m., the sun will align precisely with the Manhattan street grid, "illuminating both the north and south sides of every cross street of the borough's grid."
Another Story from the Cadillac with the Tiger in it (Part 2: Then and Now)
It used to be a lot different around here when I first arrived in the neighborhood. My owner purchased me from a couple in New Jersey for $450. (Back then I had 103,000 miles and the husband was worried I'd break down at any time and leave his wife stranded somewhere. Hell, that was 347,000 miles ago!)
All of the buildings on my block (East Second Street between First Avenue and Second Avenue) were grey and black from grime and soot and covered with graffiti. This was before their facades were sandblasted/pressure washed by the current owners.
The locals wasted no time welcoming me to the neighborhood. My Cadillac hood ornament was stolen the first few nights I was here, and shortly afterwards all of my other exterior Cadillac emblems. (Kids at the time would make them into key chains.)
A sex worker broke my rear vent window so she could turn a trick in the back seat. (At least she used a condom, though I would have preferred that they cleaned up better after themselves!) Then a homeless guy slept in the car for several nights and told everyone he was my owner — until my real owner chased him out one morning at 5 with a baseball bat.
I was stolen three times. The first guy didn't get far because he couldn't figure out how to unlock my steering column. The last time was by some kids from the Avenue D projects who took me joyriding for the weekend until they ran out of gas. Fortunately, they left me only a couple of blocks away from where they stole me.
There used to be an officer from the 9th Precinct — Rodriguez is how he signed his citations. He knocked my side mirror off on four separate occasions and then ticketed my owner for not having the required operating equipment on me. What a guy!
One night one of those independent garbage carting trucks from New Jersey that terrorize pedestrians careened down the block at a high speed (heading in the wrong direction on the one way street I should add) and swerved into me and crushed my rear door and quarter panel. My owner caught up with him at the end of the block but the truck ended up having fake license plates and the driver had a fake driver's license, registration and insurance card. And the company with the mob-sounding name that the truck belonged to didn't exist.
Through it all the neighborhood was more car friendly back then. It was much easier to get a parking spot on my block. Joel Rifkin even parked his pick up truck in front of me a couple of times when he was out picking up and murdering streetwalkers from Allen and Forsythe Streets. His bumper sticker read "I'm not deaf, I'm ignoring you!"
There were two small parking lots, five gas stations, three auto parts stores, three tire shops and two car washes within a few blocks of East Second Street. Now all of them are gone except the one on 2nd Ave and East First Street and the Mobil station on Avenue C and East Second Street (although I hear that one's days are numbered).
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Have things gotten any better in the last few years? Not really. Now it's a different set of jerks. Privileged ones who infiltrate the neighborhood on the weekends and make the East Village their playpen.
Three years ago some trust-fund kid smashed my windshield as a joke. That cost my owner $370. Then a drunk guy smashed in my rear passenger side window. That has proven to be more challenging to replace. An auto glass specialist in Hell's Kitchen told my owner that he could only locate one similar window within 300 miles and it would cost $475 to replace it, so it remains patched up with cardboard and a garbage bag.
Adding insult to injury, during a Friday furniture street-side pick-up night, five frat boys shoved a discarded dining room table underneath me and tore off my exhaust system. This is why I'm so loud now. To replace it would cost my owner $900-1,000.
So much has disappeared on and around my block: Frankie Splitz bar, Mars Bar, Cuando, Little Rickie's and most recently — Mr. Yoo's.
Soon I will, too, but on my own terms. First I'm going to smell the Black Locust trees in the Cemetery one last time.
Previously on EV Grieve:
That Cadillac that we've long admired on East 2nd St. now has a stuffed tiger on the front seat
And now, stories from the Cadillac with the Tiger in it on East 2nd Street
Also! The Cadillac with the Tiger in it now has its on website. Find that here.
The Rev. Kevin Nelan, a priest at Church of the Immaculate Conception, said the money was brought to the church for safekeeping. "The money he stole is from our hospital chaplain who lives here, who was holding it for a bishop who is visiting from Nigeria."
The chaplain was not able to deposit the money in the bank Friday, said Nelan, who thinks unfortunately the thief just got lucky. "That that room was open and that that kind of money was there, because normally there would not be that kind of money sitting there," he said.
CSA membership is open to everyone. Full and half shares are still available, sign-ups will close tomorrow. More info and sign-up here.
Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) is a partnership where community members purchase shares of the season’s harvest directly from the farmer. Each week, members receive a box of the week’s freshest produce, delivered straight from the farm to their table.
Last years partnership with Mountain View Farm was a great success. A normal week’s share includes about a dozen different types of produce, depending on season, and averages about $27.
Besides delicious, fresh produce, some benefits of CSA membership include:
* Saving money
* More variety
* Fresher, more flavorful food
* Knowing where food comes from
* Reducing our carbon footprint
* Supporting local family farms
A special thanks to the 14th Street Y and Just food for helping to bring farm-fresh produce to our neighborhood.
Name: Christopher Reisman
Occupation: Police Officer, retired
Location: 9th Precinct, 5th Street between 1st and 2nd Avenue
Time: 11 a.m. on Monday, May 5
I’ve lived here since 1969 and I also used to work here. I was a cop. I grew up in the suburbs, in Westchester, and I left school early and wound up in the Army when I was 21 years old. Most of the guys who I was hanging out with there were from New York.
I got out after three years — two years, 11 months and 14 days. I knocked around for a little while and came over to the neighborhood when I was 25. When I was in college I used to come around here for music. I used to listen to a lot of music. You had the Five Spot on 5th Street and then they moved up to St. Marks. You had Port of Call East, East Village Inn, Pee Wee’s, Slug’s.
The area always intrigued me. It has always been unusual. The area was unique in the city for a number of reasons. It had been crushed by urban renewal. There was a very strong neighborhood identification in those days. There were Polish blocks and Italian blocks and Ukrainian Blocks. For the most part, the Jewish families were gone by then. In those days, nobody owned the entire neighborhood. They might have owned their own blocks, but no one group was strong enough to bully the others. If you were going to be a bully you had to stay on your own block. It was almost exclusively blue collar. By the late ‘60s people were starting to be damaged by the war.
As in most communities, the low level criminality was always the cottage industry — selling little pieces of dope or betting on the numbers. Socially, everybody stood down from whatever their position or status was. I remember in Phebe's you’d see cops, actors, firemen, dancers, kids from Chinese youth gangs, and Hells Angels all drinking together, because nobody was in charge. That was the deal.
There were a lot of people involved in the arts because they could afford to live here and work some little job to pay the rent and then practice the rest of the time. It was always to a degree bohemian. It was inexpensive. It was a community that did not for the most part sit and judge you. Everybody had a place as long as you didn’t impose yourself on people.
I knew Hilly Kristal, the guy that owned CBGB. That was an interesting place. It was kind of a sentiment of the times too There were some of us who drank at his other bars — he had a bar on West 9th Street and another bar on West 13th Street, and those were part of the nightlife. We all knew each other and long story short, the night before he opened Hilly’s on the Bowery, typically, he was not ready to open. He still had to put down the floor, which he had neglected to do. So it was me, my roommate who was an electrician, a waiter, and one of his bartenders, and we laid the floor the night before he opened, for a bar tab. This was probably in ‘73 or ’74.
When I joined the cops, I kind of engineered my assignment here, and I wasn’t disappointed. I worked at the 9th Precinct and I first started in May 1969. You had an area where there wasn’t a lot of money and there was certainly very little affluence. For the most part it was not considered a choice assignment. As a matter of fact, very often, cops who couldn’t be punished would be assigned here under the theory of how much harm can they do?
Beginning in the late 1960s, drugs started to erode the social fabric of the neighborhood. I didn’t have any basis for comparison because I hadn’t lived here before, but it became very obvious that this was increasing. There was also a little street culture here, for everybody, in the sense that most people lived in very small apartments, but they lived with their whole families and there was no air conditioning.
Consequently, any opportunity they could get out the apartment was a good thing. So people literally lived on the sidewalks. It was either that or go to a gin mill. It was much, much tougher. Jail was not a unique experience. The sensibilities and sensitivities of incarceration were pretty much evident on the street. If you stepped on somebody’s foot and didn’t sincerely apologize, you’d probably get badly hurt.
We came right during a social change, for us as well, because the department and the city were changing rapidly. The older fellows… we learned from some of the smartest cops in the city, because they had defeated the police department. There were some very creative and intelligent men. Many of them were veterans from the Korean War and several World War II vets. They were all from the city. And then there were the people that you didn’t want to spend any time with.
In those days you worked around the clock. We used to say, if you want to [sleep on the job] it was pretty safe in the daytime, you could go to sleep, because nothing was going to happen. From 10 at night to seven in the morning it was usually pretty busy. They called it the three-platoon system. The first platoon was from midnight to eight, the second was the day shift, and the third platoon was four pm to midnight, and it changed every week. Consequently, you were always sleep deprived.
As time went on you’d probably end up in a job where your hours were a little more regular, but by that time your children were already grown, and your wife was already completely estranged. It was tough that way. There was a very intelligent reform, maybe around the late ‘70s, when they gave cops the opportunity to pick their hours. It also gave them an opportunity to get side jobs, because when you worked around the clock it became very difficult to get a part-time job.
For a cop to get a side job they had to submit a request and identify the employer, get permission and almost always the conditions were impossible, so the cops would take the job on the side and hope they didn’t get caught, cause you had to. I was making a $112 a week, but I was single. If you had a family, you couldn’t do it. Now you had a choice. You either had a part time job or you get cozy with somebody who was going to give you money. In many cases, to some extent it was deliberate by the powers that be. Jimmy Walker had a famous saying when somebody came up to him and said the cops want a raise. He said, ‘Let them get their own raise.’
When I came on the job the police department was very conservative, and part of it still is today. A policeman was fired because he was living in sin with his girlfriend. If you were working here, everybody in the whole world is doing it. The irony was very often that the cops were expected to respect the rights of the individual that they themselves were not entitled.
The early ‘70s was at a time where the police department as a whole was very passive. If you were in uniform and arrested a man for narcotics, the cop would be investigated automatically. If you had too many of these they assumed you were a crook. The official orders would be, if you see narcotics, do not take action. So the public sees me walking by a drug dealer and thinks I’m corrupt. Out of an effort to be genuinely pristine, the job inadvertently created a mass corruption image. So Tompkins Square Park was the result of this type of a free zone, which was really sad for the people that had no other place to be. It was pretty much no blood, no foul.
For the most part, I always worked at night. I worked what was called the public morals, which was called the vice squad. I was assigned to the career criminal apprehension unit. I did that for three years and then went into detective work. I was what they called an active cop. I made a lot of arrests.
We would get what you’d call a kite from a precinct commander, ‘there’s a bookie and he’s working out of candy store x’. We’d go in and place bets and so on. When we started here we didn’t have radios. When you worked the foot post you worked by yourself and it was very instructive because you had to learn how to cope with whatever was going on by yourself without any help. It was only your reputation or how you presented yourself initially that enabled you to do anything at all so you stayed alive.
Burglaries were certainly prevalent. We used to wonder whether there were more than five television sets in the entire precinct, because they would be stolen and resold everyday, which was particularly savage because it was almost always poor people being robbed. The poor people were at the mercy of the vestiges of the middle class and the upper class. Polite solutions were imposed on situations that just didn’t work.
Everybody has watched television, and so everybody knows about crime and how that works and how institutional corruption works, but they don’t have a clue. It’s not their fault. They’ve been educated to think that they know. So this also created problems for us, not the least of which was that none of us have a 26-minute solution to a problem. It’s much more dull and much more unsatisfactory.
Any restaurant that stands up to the Google Glass bullies deserves 1,000 stars. I sincerely hope Feast reads this review and sues every reviewer who unfairly left them one star reviews because Google Glassholes retaliated after being asked to remove their Google Glasses so diners could dine in peace. I can't wait to go back to this great place. Google Glassholes are obnoxious c**** (rhymes with "runts") and I hope if there is a hell, they all rot in it for all eternity.
Completely appreciate concerns over @googleglass. Best way to understand it is to try it, and @feastnyc has kindly invited the opportunity.
— Katy Kasmai (@KatyKasmai) May 25, 2014
Absolutely did not encourage people to post fake reviews and asking folks to please not do so. @sarahpriceless @benparr @NickStarr @feastnyc
— Katy Kasmai (@KatyKasmai) May 25, 2014
There are not many Pasticceria and Caffe's that can actually claim four continuous generations of friendly, family service. Our family tradition has survived through all types of conditions such as World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, the fabulous Fifties, the Vietnam War, the recession of the 70's, the boom of the 80's ... With hard work, a determination to provide the finest pastries, cakes and desserts and your patronage, we will continue into the 21st Century.
[EVG file photo]
Tue, May 27 — Tue, Jun 3 Closed for Remodeling
Wed, Jun 5 — Grand Reopening 5:00 PM
Please come back to the future with us at our grand reopening and let us shower you with the power of love in our new and improved bar! We can't wait to celebrate our rebirth with you!
