Friday, February 3, 2012

*Everyday Chatter

On a global-warm winter's night, the first flip-flop sighting of the year:


The Algonquin has shuttered its Oak Room. [HP]

Thor reveals its deadening new Coney Island architecture. [ATZ]

Driving chain stores out of the Upper West Side. [Gothamist]

You could have had a $5,500 Super Bowl party with Torrisi, the guys who took over Rocco's. [Eater]

Feb 9: Eat knishes and watch a documentary on the NYC accent. [ITK]

The legendary, literary Holiday Cocktail Lounge is being taken over by the company that makes Pirate Booty snacks. [EVG]

New York hardcore meets the 90s. [LOM]

Greenwich Village neon revisited. [NYN]

At art-world celebrity parties, all the scenesters are zombified in their cell phones. [NYT]

Urban Etiquette Signage

This week, Capital New York published an article on "The golden era of the noble, ineffectual 'respect our neighbors' sign." I'm glad the author, Sarah Laskow, is bringing attention to the situation, but I need to add my two cents, because urban etiquette signage happens to be a passion (or perhaps obsession) of mine--I've been collecting samples for awhile.


coffee shop

Laskow focuses on the signs outside of drinking establishments, mostly in the East Village, where they do proliferate. But the signs are not limited to bars. You'll find them outside of cafes, dessert shops, and restaurants that are not booze-centric. So we can't just blame drunkenness for people's bad behavior.

She says the signs have "multiplied since New York banned smoking in bars," and traces the origin of the fight against noise and crowding to 2003 when the smoking ban began. The ban definitely increased the problem, but the story is more complex.


noodle shop

Laskow partly blames the increase in signs to an increase in complaining quality-of-lifers. She writes that the East Village "played host to the city’s nightlife aficionados for years, but through the '80s and '90s its residents were paying rents low enough that they could overlook nighttime noise. As rents increased, so did complaints." She quotes one bar owner who says, "When people start paying that sort of money, they expect more from the neighborhood."

But the complainers are not the high-rent newcomers--the most vocal and active complainers are the old-timers, most in rent-controlled and stabilized apartments for decades. And we didn't overlook noise prior to 2003--we remember when the East Village was much quieter and less crowded than the nightmare of screeching it is today.

If anyone is behaving badly and in need of corrective signage, it's the newcomers who are paying those high rents in glossy buildings made for adult dormitory life.


dessert shop, Momofuku Milk Bar

Finally, this whole behavioral problem began before the smoking ban of 2003.

I started noticing urban etiquette signs in the East Village a little more than a decade ago--mostly posted in long-standing mom-and-pop businesses. I wrote this in 2002: "the new signs keep cropping up every day: Absolutely no cell phones; Do not bring your dog in here; If you want to talk on your cell phone, do it outside; No roller blades; No scooters; and the simple, plaintive, Please be nice."

These early examples were the precursors to today's "please respect our neighbors" signs. And as the pleading requests make clear, by the turn of the century, the East Village was being taken over by assholes--people who could not care less about their negative impact on others and on the neighborhood around them. In short: The yunnies came to town.


Fab 208 clothing

In the article, bar owner Sasha Petraske sums it up well when he says, "The idea that the sidewalk in front of an apartment building is public space is a suburban attitude, that has no place in a city."

That brings us back to the larger issue of New York's suburbanization, and the problematic people who bring their small-town visions with them, then force the city to conform. And, of course, as Laskow points out, they don't bother reading the signs.


See and read:
Shut Up Signs
Urban Etiquette Signs
Loudmouth Weather
How to Complain About Noisy Jerks

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Cosmos to Orion

This past summer, we lost the Cosmos Diner, which had stood at 23rd and 2nd since 1978. Along with it, we lost another example of "Steaks Chops" signage--always a sad occurrence.


2011

When this happens, we tend to think the worst. A Subway. A 7-11. Another diner vanished for an artisanal pork-centric bistro. But sometimes the equilibrium is maintained.

Reader Pat sends in the news that Cosmos has simply become the Orion Diner & Grill. It opens today.



Pat says, "The ceilings are blue painted with white clouds, there is a mural on the wall, and the arrow of the archer on the sign outside has a moving light to suggest an arrow in motion... When I walked by they were having a party inside. The dessert trays in the window were loaded with huge gooey pieces of cake. A Greek Orthodox priest blessed everyone inside. He had a handful of some kind of leaves which he dipped in water and then bopped (I hope that word is not disrespectful) everyone on the forehead with it, uniformed wait staff too! A religious icon was in evidence on a table. So, I know where I am having lunch tomorrow."

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Gem Spa: Not Closed

Someone started a blasphemous rumor on Facebook that the Gem Spa had shuttered. One Facebooker said it was "padlocked" last week. People flipped out, raining comments and tweets that cried, "WTF! thats crazy...the only question now is will it become a Chase or a Rite Aid" and "NO!" and "WHHHAAAATTTT?!?!?!?"

I went by to check this morning and am happy to report that the Gem Spa remains its usual self, open for business, overflowing with magazines and mixing up egg creams. People walk in and say, "We thought you were closed!" The Gem Spa men reply, laughing, "It was a joke! Someone made a bad joke on Facebook!"


egg cream, 2008

It's possible that someone stumbled upon this article from the Voice's blog Runnin' Scared and performed a panic posting: "Gem Spa Closes: Bye Bye, Miss American Egg Cream." The piece states, "Gem Spa is closed. The candy store which became a clearing house for the hip-yip-street freak festival in the East Village is now padlocked, its windows covered with newsprint and cardboard. The end came quickly and unexpectedly last week."

That article was reprinted from February 1972, when the Gem Spa did temporarily shutter.

Wrote the Voice, "It's too late in the day for the passing of Gem Spa to earn a place as a prophetic omen of the East Village-Lower East Side decline. Too many old scenes, like the Fillmore and the Electric Circus, have already folded." (The bemoaning has been going on for some time.)


New York Times, 1969

Disaster averted (this time), the 2012 Gem Spa false alarm is yet a good reminder to us all that now is the time to appreciate this East Village treasure.

Go for a magazine and an egg cream. (Check out this video of how it's done.) Grab a couple of those kosher raspberry "Jelly Rings" by the register. How about a Hav-A-Hank handkerchief or a nice, unbreakable plastic comb?


Ted Berrigan, 1972

Gem Spa may be the only newsstand in New York City with its own dedicated Wikipedia page.

Says Wikipedia, "From 1957 until at least 1969 the store was owned by Ruby Silverstein and Harold Shephard, who employed 11 staff to keep it open 24 hours a day--Silverstein estimated that every 30 seconds someone walked in the store. The clientele initially mainly bought Jewish and foreign-language papers, which began to change around 1963 as they sold more copies of the Village Voice and underground magazines. Silverstein and Shephard gave the store its current name, initially Gem's Spa--the name comes from Gladys, Etta, and Miriam, the names of the wives of Silverstein and Shephard and Shephard's ex-wife."

GEM = Gladys, Etta, and Miriam! Who knew?


New York Dolls, 1973

In 1969, Allen Ginsberg ended a poem with this line: "Back from the Gem Spa, into the hallway, a glance behind and sudden farewell to the bedbug-ridden mattresses piled soggy in dark rain."

What has changed? We're still going for egg creams at Gem Spa and dodging bedbug mattresses on St. Mark's sidewalk. Perhaps all is not lost.


Michael Sean Edwards, 1979

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

*Everyday Chatter

Take a peek at the newly renovated, cleaned-up park at Bleecker and 11th--sponsored by an anonymous donor the neighbors believe is Marc Jacobs:


There is only one record store left on St. Mark's Place. [EVG]

Under the Coney Island boardwalk, a remnant of a vanished bar. [ATZ]

A last look at the Holiday Cocktail Lounge. [LC]

What happened to the ex-chorus girls and vaudevillians of the Whitby? [ENY]

Memories of Bleecker Bob's. [FP]

Romy offers some notes about Vali. [WIC]

Walking Stuyvesant to Tompkins Square. [FNY]

Pint of No Return

After a mere three months, The Pint of No Return has closed. It's yet another casualty for the ever-changing corner of 13th and 6th in Manhattan.

You might recall when the gelato shop Maximo Pino opened here in January 2010. That was replaced by the Rockography lounge in March 2011, which was in turn replaced by sports grille Blitz! Brasserie last summer, which then morphed into The Pint of No Return in October. That makes four scrapped "concepts" in just two years. And they're all from the same owner.



Someone's got to have a winning idea for this corner. How about:

Brooklyn Bacon N' Brew: A taste of "authentic" Brooklyn, featuring chef-selected pairings of pork products and small-batch beers.

Bespoke Burger: Each patty is hand-crafted and signed by a certified burger artisan to bring out the complex flavors ground beef was meant for.

The Meatball Warehouse: Nothing but meatballs--all made from locally sourced New York City meats, including Coney Island sea robin, Central Park squirrel, and super-fresh, street-to-table "squab."

Nevermind, looks like they're going to try a European espresso bar next. Says The Real Deal, "The West Village will be adding yet more European flair to its tree-lined streets as it welcomes an espresso franchise direct from the continent." How long do you think that will last?

Previously:
Maximo Change-O

Monday, January 30, 2012

Rockit Scientist Records

VANISHING (for now)

After the announcement that Starbucks will (maybe) take over Bleecker Bob's (then again, not), here comes more bad news for record-store lovers and vinyl aficionados. Rockit Scientist Records on St. Mark's Place is shuttering at the end of February.

It's another case of a landlord hiking rent.



Owner John Kioussis told me, "my lease is ending and i don't want to renew at the current rate, i asked for a rent reduction and was turned down. While business wasn't great, it just isn't worth paying $8500 a month."

Kioussis hopes the shop will last through March. After they close, he plans to do mail order for a bit, then "I'll look to reopening sometime in the summer if i find something reasonable."



Opened in 1996, Rockit Scientist used to be on Carmine Street. In 2003, when it moved to St. Mark's Place, the Times published a long and loving tribute to the store, describing "why places like Rockit Scientist still exist in a retailing landscape marked by vast impersonal megastores and their online brethren."

"More broadly," they wrote, "it is why places like New York still exist, places where clutter and congestion may not be mere inconveniences but the catalysts of random discovery or accidental innovation, where a store selling the most specialized merchandise can attract a large clientele, and where one can find a sense of community just by opening a door."

Today, with a 7-11 moving in next door, maybe the Rockit Scientist space will get a Subway--or a Starbucks. That's about all that can survive here now. So much for random discovery, accidental innovation, and community.



As Kioussis says on the shop's Facebook page, independent record stores are "hassle-free places to hang out, to talk rubbish fearlessly, to argue loudly without being asked to move on, to form bands, to see bands, to hand out flyers--even to not buy music. Indie record shops have something the major chains will never replicate no matter how many surveys and spreadsheets they employ: they are cool."

And so another piece of cool departs from St. Mark's Place.