Pioneer Theater

Friday night was the going-away party for the Pioneer Theater. After a decade on Avenue A, they are closing their doors, unable to manage the high cost of living in Newer York. Two Boots pizza and the video store are supposed to stay, but as you can see in this real estate listing, their spots appear to be on the market.



For the celebration, they showed free films from 6:00 to midnight and gave away popcorn, soda, and candy. I stayed for the first two movies: Truffaut's "The 400 Blows" and Michel Gondry's "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," a personal favorite. (Later would come "L'Atalante" then "Donnie Darko.")



Before the film, theater co-owner Phil Hartman said a few words about the occasion. The farewell party was originally to be a chance to watch his favorite films with family and friends, but, he said, "you are all family and friends," so he opened it to the public. He asked us to enjoy the free stuff and "be cool, you know, don't ask for a giant jug of soda to take home or stuff Milk Duds down your pants."

In between screenings, pizzas flowed in from Two Boots and the growing crowd grabbed up the slices. Thanks Phil--for the good night and for giving it a go these past 10 years.



Munching Raisinets and watching "Eternal Sunshine," I could not help but see vanishing New York in its metaphor of erasure. Boom, boom, boom, the lights go out on one memory and another. People, places, objects of love suddenly disappear. You run around, frantically trying to hold on to it, but in the end, it all collapses, taken away by a force more powerful, unstoppable.



Outside, after the movie and a last slice of pizza, I remembered when the condo building that houses the Pioneer went up (1995, 1996?). Across the avenue in the Cafe Limbo (vanished), I used to sit and write in a notebook, watching the construction.

But I can't remember what came before. Was it a vacant lot or was there something standing there? I do recall that you could see a church tower from the cafe and that I disliked having that view disappear. But the rest, like too many of my city memories, has been erased.

• 1994 on Avenue A: "Some of it already looks like a mall. Isn't that what you live here to get away from?"
• A new Two Boots opens on the Upper East Side
  

*Everyday Chatter

Yes, Manhattan's loss is Brooklyn's gain as the shuttered 12th Street Books has successfully, and quite gloriously, reopened as the Atlantic Book Shop. Looking good, but so far away:





The Minetta Tavern gets wrapped in plywood as it prepares to come out sparkling and ready for its new clientele--and new non-Italian menu. [BBoogie]

Amanda sends in this "reverse vanishing," a look at Bill Brand's just restored subway art project, Masstransiscope, from 1980. Check out the surreal video footage, complete with anti-terrorism PA. [FilmLinc]

Rosie O'Donnell is moving into the Ayn Randian monster-condo that replaced dearly beloved McHale's in Times Square. She looks nothing like the ads. [RD]

It's riot cops versus bearded Obama-loving hipsters in lots of fun film footage that actually makes the city look alive. [Gothamist]

Have a seat in Donohue's steak house--and let the lovely melancholy descend. [EVG]

TONIGHT: Don't forget to say goodbye to the Pioneer Theater--free movies and popcorn at 6:00! And galloping blogger Grieve mourns the loss on Flavorwire.

Blarney Cove

Since I announced the gutting and potential demise of the Holland Bar earlier this week, a blog-o-conversation has begun on the state of the city's dive bars. Lost City gave us a list of surviving dives, to which EV Grieve added the neon-fabulous Subway Inn.

Of course, no Manhattan dive round-up would be complete without the good old Blarney Cove on East 14th.



At the Blarney Cove, old men hook their canes to the lip at the edge of the bar before taking their seats. One of those old guys says “ha-ha” and “ha-ha-ha,” not laughing, just saying "ha." And if you're lucky, you might overhear a mature lady explaining to another gray-haired fella all about her dear mother’s “nice pair of tits.”

The Cove has a rough-and-tumble reputation, but it's a friendly place. The second time I ever sat at the bar, Matty the bartender asked me if I wanted “the usual.” Since I’d only been there once before, I figured he had me confused with someone else, but he knew exactly what I wanted and how I wanted it. After my second drink, he bought me one on the house. The Cove knows how to keep their customers.

They also put out a fine Christmas spread, so pencil it in to your calendars and get ready for some holiday cheer.



What's your favorite dive?

• NYC's Best Dive Bars
• NYC Dives

*Everyday Chatter

News flash: "the New York of Neil Simon now belongs to Carrie Bradshaw." When will it end? [TONY]

Never. Because there will, in fact, be a Sex & the City sequel. [People]

An inside look at another great dive bar. [EVG]

See the best set of shots from the St. Marks Obama celebration--including a fantastic poster of Obama as Rosie the Riveter. [NMNL]

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Super Obama! T-shirt by comic-book artist extraordinaire Alex Ross. [Uncivil]

Pen & Brush Club

I was walking past the Pen & Brush Club and noticed this For Sale sign on their townhouse at 16 East 10th Street.

In this building since 1923, they've been offering services, networking, and camaraderie to women in the arts for over a century. They also host several cultural events per year that are open and free to the public.



The building is listed with Prudential for $13,525,000. Says the ad: "You have a chance to own a piece of history. This 25' wide townhouse...was originally built in 1848 and has original detail throughout with 14' ceilings, parquet floors, elaborate crown moldings, rounded arch ways, original staircase and 11 marble fireplaces."

The New Yorker Book Bench blog has more info, saying the sale is due to the high cost of heating oil. Blogger Vicky Raab mourns the loss, writing, "it’s a unique historic asset for women in arts and letters to lose... Where else can women rent studio space for reasonable rates on one of the best blocks in Greenwich Village? Or curl up in a library overlooking a sculpture garden, which boasts works by its members Eleanor Roosevelt and Pearl Buck? Or wander through elegant galleries that host member and juried art shows and readings by fiction writers and playwrights?"

Yet again, another meaningful, historic space that once was available for the benefit of the public will be given over into private hands. I'm sure it will make a lovely mansion for some lucky couple.


Photo: Brian Dube at NY Daily Photo

*Everyday Chatter

"It’s November 2008. A young Pakistani Muslim is watching television and sees that this man—Barack Hussein Obama—is the new face of America. In one simple image, America’s soft power has been ratcheted up not a notch, but a logarithm. A brown-skinned man whose father was an African, who grew up in Indonesia and Hawaii, who attended a majority-Muslim school as a boy, is now the alleged enemy. If you wanted the crudest but most effective weapon against the demonization of America that fuels Islamist ideology, Obama’s face gets close. It proves them wrong about what America is in ways no words can." --Andrew Sullivan

Get your victory dogs at Crif today. [Eater]

Celebrating hipsters jailed for loving Obama too much. [Gothamist]

Brooklyn celebrates Barack. [GL]

Paper isn't dead--crowds clamor for the NY Times. [Gothamist]

Daniel Squadron, the "extremely anti-club, anti-licensing, bad, bad man," who's coming to clean house was also elected last night. Hope overflows... [Grub]

California, however, is still living in the Dark Ages, as they ban gay marriage. [AP]

Bloomberg fixes financial hole he helped dig by making cuts to police, firefighters, child protection, and sanitation. Hello, Bloomberg? It's the 1970s calling. They want to burn down your house, attack your family, and bury you in piles of uncollected garbage. [EVG]

President Obama

It's 2:30 AM. Obama is the President of the United States. (Pretty much.)


who was that masked man?

In the streets of New York, crowds are still cheering, shouting "Yes, we can!" Cars honk their horns. People bang pots and pans. They cannot stop. Don't want to stop. When the announcement came over the television that he had been elected, cheers erupted from the streets. A crowd gathered on 8th Street and 1st Avenue, taking over the intersection. Police pushed them back here and there, but otherwise left the celebration alone.

People in cars stopped and the crowd rushed to shake their hands and kiss them through open windows.

Garbage men riding the backs of honking trucks waved and pumped their fists.

City bus drivers honked and slowed down so passengers could stick their hands from the windows and high-five the people on the street.



At Union Square, the park was packed. People climbed lamp posts and hoisted flags atop. We sang God Bless America. We chanted "U-S-A" and "Yes, We Can" and "O-Ba-Ma!" Strangers hugged and kissed strangers.

The celebration went on and on, a wave that rose and fell, then rose again, for hours and hours. Down side streets and avenues, in pockets of jubilant people.

After joining them for hours of that jubilation, I'm putting in my earplugs and going to bed.



Earlier tonight, this stranger in an Obama Halloween mask appeared in the crowd at Union Square and people fell upon him with adoration. As if he were the real thing. Acting the part, uninhibited behind that face, the stranger opened his arms and enveloped us.

He took me into his arms and we embraced. His hug was strong. Caught up in the mass delusion, the pleasant folie a plusieurs that this stranger had brought into our midst, I felt like I was being embraced by my new president, a man who could see me, who would include me in his vision for the country.

And it was good.