Milady's Last Call

VANISHED

Zagat says it's been there for 81 years. Others say since 1947 or sometime in the 1950s. Either way, Milady's has been around for a long time. And now it's gone.


All photos courtesy of Gudrun Georges

E.V. Grieve shared the Twitter rumor on Saturday that the bar would be closing--along with a realtor's listing for the building that advertises: "Building has been completely gut-renovated... will be delivered vacant. Incredible opportunity for luxury residential conversion."

The rumor of the closing turned out to be true. Last night was Milady's last call.



Reader Lois went in to Milady's early yesterday with her husband to say goodbye. She reported: "The crowds trickled in. People were drinking beer and shots of whiskey. Making toasts. Everyone was upset and talking about the closing. Some were crying. I saw one older woman walk in, talk to the bartender, and shout FUCK! when she heard the news. The bartender said they were just told on Friday about the closing. She said the landlord refused to renew their lease. One lonely looking guy at the bar just kept saying, 'I'm devastated, totally devastated.' It was a sad day."

By the late afternoon, it was "a regular Irish funeral," said reader Daniel. He reported: "the scene is teary but full of village stalwarts and so good cheer abounds despite the fucking calamity of losing this bar. my mother, who's been coming here since '73 is a mess. she doesn't where she's gonna go now. it's plain old sad as hell."

At night, Milady's was packed, running out of beer, and six packs were being brought in from the delis across the street, tweeted Robert O. Simonson. Still, the funeral party went on into the deep morning hours.



Reader Lisamarie Grosso, a long-time bartender at Milady's, let us know that the bar "has been owned and operated by the same Italo-American family for 60 or so years. Neighbors used to refer to it as 'the Frank Sinatra Bar' because of the many photos of Old Blue Eyes hanging on the walls. The massive avocado plant in the window that faces Thompson Street was grown from a seed by the owner's Mom. She's long gone. The plant remains."

In 1982, Frank Genovese bought the place. The Times reported in 1992 that Frank "grew up a few blocks from the bar, and later worked there." He told the paper, "I thought of making this place much fancier than it is. But then in my experience the chi-chi places make a lot of money for a very short time -- but then?"



Milady's was not a fancy chi-chi place. It was a dive, a neighborhood bar, an Italian joint dating back to when this part of Soho was still considered the Italian South Village. (For many, the boundaries remain highly contested today.) Madonna ate there. So did Sylvester Stallone. Connie Francis was on the jukebox and Frank Sinatra's portrait hung on the wall.

In more recent years, the Zagat description summed it up well--"a magnet for rent-stabilized locals," "some wonder how it survives":



In today's New York, nothing affordable, nothing old, nothing for the rent-stabilized locals is allowed to survive. And what's to come? We can imagine something chi-chi, something that will make a lot of money for a very short time, and then shutter. The long line of history has been broken.


See more from Gudrun Georges here

Norwegian Business Daily

Journalist Morten Bertelsen interviewed me for the December 27 edition of the Norwegian Business Daily newspaper Dagens Næringsliv. The article is entitled "The Hook on the Door of Old New York," about how "New York has become the new Dubai under Mayor Bloomberg believes critics." (As translated by Google.)

"The hook's on the door" is an expression used when something comes to an end, like closing up shop and putting the hook on the door. So the old New York has closed up shop.



The article focuses on the city's land grab of Willets Point in Queens. "A robbery!" says 81-year-old Joseph Ardizzone, the only resident of Willets Point. "A robbery in broad daylight. Bloomberg stealing properties customers to give them the billionaire friends its so they can build shopping mall and casino here. Casino!" (Also via Google translator.)

Here I am in Norwegian:



And Google translated:

"A kind of Dubai"
Mayor Michael Bloomberg get off at New Year. He changed New York during its 12 year. Critics say the worse. - Bloomberg has made New York to a kind of Dubai, one luxury that could lain where any time with its endless chain stores and an increasing number of suburban mentality, says Jeremiah Moss. The author documents the transformation blog "Vanishing New York." It is not just about nostalgia, but also a city with increasing differences.

Moss is not alone in viewing this. The new mayor, Democrat Bill de Blasio, called autumn New York story of two cities - the rich and the poor, where the gap is only increasing. He was 74 percent of the vote. - New York is dramatically changed under Bloomberg. He said early on that he saw the city as a luxury product, and wanted that billionaires from around the world would settle here. So he set out to create the city, says Moss. 40 percent of the city area is rezoned under Bloomberg. Many of the 40,000 new buildings are luxurious high-rises and skyscrapers. People from higher socioeconomic team has taken over the old working bastions. 

- Countless small businesses, which went well for decades, were forced out. Rents soared. In some places they were tenfold. Entire neighborhoods were destroyed and reconstructed almost over night, playgrounds and shopping for the super rich, says Moss. The old slaughter district is perhaps the most glaring example, believes Moss. The record was Meatpacking District turned into a blinded white Aker Brygge. The old quarters in Greenwich Village - Counterculture the stronghold decades - memories today about Bogstadsveien Oslo. Even dirty Bowery on the east side of the island washed slowly away.

8th St. Gray's Papaya

VANISHED 

The Gray's Papaya at 6th Avenue and 8th Street has closed. Eater reported yesterday that the beloved hot dog haunt has been demolished inside and the sign taken down. The details of the closure are still unknown. There's talk of "just renovating," and other talk of rent hikes and a possible move.

Update: The Voice talked to Mr. Gray, who confirmed the closure was due to a massive rent hike. He said, "They wanted to raise my rent to $50,000 from $30,000."


2008

Founded in 1972 (0r 73) when Nicholas (or Paul) Gray broke away from the Papaya King, Gray's once had a few locations around town, including an outpost on 8th Avenue in the 30s that shuttered in 2011 due to rent troubles.

The 8th Street papaya and dog outfit was favored by celebrities and junkies, late-night boozers, the broke, the hungry, the everyone. It was a great spot to grab a quick bite and eat it at the window, looking out at the world.


2008

As Gothamist pointed out, there's only one Gray's Papaya left standing, at Broadway and 72nd. "When you're hungry, or broke, or just in a hurry!"


2013

As Robert Sietsema put it today: "A city is defined by its hot dogs, and Gray's exhibited the real New York terroir... The disappearance of such a well-known eatery — and a bargain one at that —diminishes our city immeasurably. And the inevitable appearance of a franchise restaurant in its place (see if I'm not right) makes New York that much more like every other city in the country."

 Here's a lovely old shot of the original Gray's on Broadway, circa 1972:


Justin Langsner / LaSalle Sign Corp, via NY Neon

Qween Amor

You may have seen Qween Amor around town. S/he appears regularly at LGBT-rights rallies, Slut Walks, and Occupy events. S/he's also a street performer. I saw her for the first time on New Year's Eve, dancing in the subway station at Union Square under a banner with the name Mary Magdalene.



I don't usually stop to watch the subway performers who gather crowds, but I could not take my eyes off Qween.

Dressed in a tiny g-string (later, a pink tutu), mesh sleeves, and glittering American-flag stilettos, s/he was kinetic, ebullient, and absolutely hypnotic, doing nothing more than freestyle dancing while lipsyncing to music. Yet coming upon Qween felt like stepping back in time, to an older, wilder New York, where categories blur, boundaries melt, and anything can happen. I felt myself shift inside, the tension and hurry fade away, making space for a sensation that felt a lot like joy. I let three trains go by while I watched for as long as I could, eventually arriving late at my ultimate destination.

Thanks to some Facebook friends who linked me to Qween, I was able to get in touch and ask some questions.



Where do you come from originally, and what inspired you to dance in the subway?

I'm from Florida, and about a year ago I had a few experiences that led to an awakening. I felt the suffering of the world, I experienced the feminine divine (Christianity's "devil"), and I came to know who I am after breaking through that little ego of mine, that still kinda creeps up. I noticed a lot of things that are happening in the world and I also noticed a generation of apathy. So I decided that maybe there is not much I could do to change everything wrong with the world (poverty, homelessness, intolerance, etc.), but I could use music as a voice. Most of the experiences I had were directly related to the music. The music is a form of communication. So when I perform I attempt to let that be recognized--that I'm not just dancing, but also speaking. When I left Florida I knew that I wanted to spread love, and I wanted to preach using the music, because the music will allow me to speak to the hearts of people rather than just their minds.

How do you identify in terms of gender identity? What pronoun do you prefer?

Really I prefer S/he. I like to identify with both genders. This pseudo war between masculinity and femininity is a bit overrated and I like to embrace both aspects of sexuality within myself.

How have people responded to your dancing? When I saw you, a lot of people were having a great time, smiling, and feeling joyful. Have you ever gotten a negative response?

Most people respond in a positive way, but I do come across some people who are just highly ignorant like this guy: "Qween Amor Assaulted." But for the most part, people who don't like it just shake their heads and walk away. Some guys do this really strange thing where they turn their fingers into the shape of a gun and point it at me...and I don't quite understand why they do it, it's really weird.



That's awful. Does this happen in New York City or other places?

In DC, when I first started dancing in Columbia Heights, little kids about 11-12 years old would throw eggs and pennies at me, LOL. I think New Yorkers are more open to freedom of expression than most people. You have ignorance everywhere, but I get a lot of support here in New York and that makes me happy. Most people I meet here are super friendly.

Has the NYPD ever given you trouble for dancing in a g-string?

Oddly enough, the g-string isn't indecent exposure. I don't get in trouble for that. I get in trouble for playing music. I've been arrested several times and have had my amp taken. It's crazy.



What music inspires you the most?

Well Madonna first and foremost. It's like she sings to me. When I first started waking up, Music became a revelation. It was as if angels were calling my name, so I answered. Maybe it's not real, but to me, it feels real. Florence and the Machine, Lady Gaga, Alanis Morrisette, Queen (most definitely Queen, Queen, Queen all the way). I love Queen. Freddie Mercury is a true fucking hero. I like a lot of classic rock. Things like "Carry on My Wayward Son," "Knocking on Heaven's Door," "Dream On." I love Devil Music. It's as if music was specifically created for the Devil to tell the world who s/he is.

Music isn't just entertainment anymore. It's a way of life, it's a form of communication, it's a language. It's a vibration, an energy. I'm able to embody that music and portray those emotions, to the point where I am the Music. When I dance there is no separation between me and the music. We are one.

What's next for the Qween?

Well, I'm going to have to rough it out here in New York until I can get the money I need to buy a van. My ultimate goal right now is just to travel around the country and dance practically everywhere. I want to spread as much Love as I possibly can. I recently just got a room in the Bronx, but I can't stay there, it's not a good environment for me, so it's back to the subway for me, LOL. I really want to make it out to California and dance up the west coast. Starting from San Diego all the way to Seattle. I can't do that without a van. I hear that sleeping in parks in California will get you arrested and I don't have time for that. I have a lot of performances that I want to do, and statements I want to make, but I can't do any of it right now. So right now I'm just kind of surviving until I can start making things happen.


QUEEN AMORE from The Rogue Cap on Vimeo.


You can help Qween Amor by donating money here. Every little bit helps. You can also follow Qween on Facebook and Twitter.

Jerry Meets Bill

This past Sunday, Jerry Delakas and his friend Kelly, co-administrator of the Facebook page Save Jerry's Newsstand, went to the Gracie Mansion open house to meet Mayor Bill de Blasio. If you've been following Jerry's saga, you know that the city padlocked his Astor Place newsstand in December and is kicking him out after 26 years, due to a technicality on his license.


photo from Save Jerry's Newsstand

Outside Gracie, Jerry and Kelly waited in the cold, carrying a homemade miniature Jerry's Newsstand as a housewarming gift to the mayor.

Wrapped in a bright red bow, the mini stand was made from found and donated cardboard, spray-painted Cemusa silver, and filled with New York newspapers--the Times, the Post--along with a Greek paper from Jerry's homeland, and an assortment of delicious candies. There was also a mini Jerry in his signature Greek fisherman's cap. But how did they get such an item past Gracie Mansion security?


photo from Save Jerry's Newsstand

Kelly told me: "We had some resistance bringing it in the house. They were under pressure to move 5,000 to meet the mayor smoothly. When we got to the gates with it, the security laughed. We put it through the metal detectors and the guards said, 'Jerry's newsstand is here!' Laughing. Going up the front steps, the security aide to the mayor asked what it was and laughed as well. When we got to the small room [for the photo op], I think the woman who is Bill's Chief of Staff took it from me and passed it to the back of the room. She said they were putting all the gifts together. I said 'No. We want to present it to the mayor. In the picture.' I turned to ask the mayor. The woman was giving me the frown. But he said something like 'Sure, pass it up.'"

Kelly and Jerry told the mayor about how the city seized and locked the real newsstand. De Blasio said he was aware of the situation, and that it is "a great injustice." He then instructed his aide to "get on it immediately." Jerry and Kelly talked to the aide and gave all the specifics.

I asked Jerry about his experience. He told me he enjoyed his trip to Gracie Mansion and found the mayor to be a very nice guy. "The visit with the mayor," he said, "was the greatest gift of all times to begin the new year." He wishes Bill de Blasio a Happy New Year and hopes he will help him to keep the newsstand and maintain his living.



If you'd like to help Jerry, there are a few ways to lend your support.

Tomorrow, join the 9:00 a.m. "We Got Your Back" rally on the courthouse steps at 60 Centre Street. You can also donate money to SaveJerry@Outlook.com via PayPal or the drop box at the NY Copy Center on 7th Street. And call the Public Advocate's office at 212-669-7250 to tell them: Don't leave Jerry Delakas out in the cold!



See Also:
Jerry Out in the Cold
Jerry's Newsstand

History of the New York Newsstand
More Newsstand Deaths
Newsstand Slaughter
Hojo's Lost Newsstand
Another Newsstand
Union Square Newsstand

Welcome to Gracie

For the first time in a dozen years, a New York City mayor will be living in Gracie Mansion. Something vanished has returned. Yesterday, in a rare event, Bill de Blasio opened the traditional mayoral residence to the public.



Thousands of New Yorkers with free tickets waited in the cold and rain, but no one seemed to mind. The mood was upbeat and friendly. Everyone seemed--dare I say it?--very happy. The event staffers were happy. The volunteers who handed out cups of hot chocolate were happy. The community relations cops were downright jovial. Security was minimal.

Even under the gray winter sky, there was a lightness in the air. The general feeling was one of welcome and openness. Gemutlichkeit was the word that came to mind--"a situation that induces a cheerful mood, peace of mind, with connotation of belonging and social acceptance, coziness and unhurry."





The line moved smoothly and, once inside, we wound our way through Gracie, from room to room, past oil paintings, fireplaces, a Christmas tree topped with its own miniature Gracie Mansion. Photographs were permitted. The guards chatted and laughed with the visitors. Docents answered questions. No one pushed. No one was talking on their phones or texting. Everyone seemed rather delighted to be there.





At the end of the tour we emerged into a room where Mayor de Blasio awaited. One by one, he took us under his arm (it's a very long arm). We put our arms around him in return and posed for the photographer. The mayor smiled and chatted, responding to whatever anyone had to say.



And then we were back outside, on the porch and down to the yard, looking at the river. We lingered in the unhurry, in the excited air of a new, unknowable era.

A woman said to her teenage son, "Bill de Blasio is very warm." And when the son asked, "What was Bloomberg like?" the mother answered, "He was, well, he wasn't very warm."



And it seems to me that whatever happens, whatever promises our new mayor keeps or breaks, whatever scandals are to come, whatever inevitable disappointments, there is this--this warmth, this openness, this Gemutlichkeit feeling in the city that simply was not here before, not for many years. And that's something to behold.

Inauguration Highlights

Top 10 highlights of yesterday's mayoral inauguration (in no particular order):


1. Watching the first family emerge from the subway station--and hearing everyone on the receiving line go crazy declaring their love for the fabulous Chirlane.




2. Bloomberg's unrelenting sourpuss. Without a glimmer of lightness, he never altered his unsmiling pouty face throughout the entire event. He looked like an angry child who just had his favorite toy taken away and who was determined to pout for the duration, no matter how much everyone around him was smiling. In fact, the more they smiled, the more he pouted.


photo: Corey Sipkin, Daily News



These are not the same photo. He just never changed his utterly joyless expression.







Even when shaking Clinton's hand, it was little Pouty McPoutface all the way.




3. The fact that no one thanked Bloomberg until Bill Clinton, nearly an hour into the event. He was barely mentioned at all. Not only that, almost every speaker ripped into his destructive vision of the "luxury city."


4. Public Advocate Letitia James. This woman is future mayor material and her speech pulled no punches--she said it all and then some. It’s time for a city government, she said, “that cares more about a child going hungry than a new stadium or a new tax credit for a luxury development... We live in a gilded age of inequality where decrepit homeless shelters and housing developments stand in the neglected shadow of gleaming, multi-million-dollar condos, where long-term residents are being priced out of their own neighborhoods by rising rents and stagnant incomes... Where hospital closures serve as an existential threat to the health of our community, and library privatization moves are little more than land grabs for more luxury condos.”


5. Dasani Coates, the little girl from the Times' expose on homelessness, held up the Bible for Letitia James' swearing in. After, Letitia and Dasani did a fist bump.


6. Today's New York City is a "plantation," said the Department of Sanitation's Reverend Fred Lucas, Jr.


7. The youth poet laureate Ramya Ramana kicked ass, whipping up the crowd with her indictment of classism (to which Bloomberg responded with a tepid "applause" of fingertips tapping the back of his hand).


8. The guy with the "End of an Error" sign who stood outside City Hall. On the reverse, his sign read "Beaux Riddance!" to Bloomberg.




9. The Bible that de Blasio used for his swearing in was once sworn upon by FDR.


10. And, of course, Bill de Blasio. The anti-Bloomberg. (So far.) The desperately needed breath of fresh air. In his speech, he was unequivocal: “let me be clear. When I said I would take dead aim at the tale of two cities, I meant it. And we will do it.” We will change the city, he said, “so New Yorkers see our city not as the exclusive domain of the 1%, but a place where everyday people can afford to live, work, and raise a family.”

Amen.