Monday, June 23, 2008

Mermaids in Peril

This past weekend, amid a sense of impending doom and passionate protest, the mermaids paraded once again through Coney Island, many of us wondering if it would be for the last time.



You couldn't miss the message. T-shirts at Lola Starr's and Ruby's urged "Save Coney Island." There was an odd requiem or two here and there. Through a fence bannered with the words "The Future of Coney Island," you saw a view of flattened earth and digging machines. And in a window on Surf Avenue, sailor girls prepared a place for Queen Mermaid, Savitri D, to hold a hunger strike to rescue Coney from the "gentrifying apocalypse of retail entertainment hell."





She and King Neptune, Reverend Billy, led off the parade, following the big drum of Dick Zigun, the former unofficial Mayor of Coney, recently resigned in protest. One troupe sent evildoing real-estate developers in yellow hardhats, with money spilling from their stuffed shirts, running down the boardwalk while the good guys tried to capture them in nets. The onlookers booed and hissed. Thor pulled a luxury high-rise inviting people to the June 24 Community Scoping Meeting.

The rest of the parade was a swirl of glittering jellyfish, topless mermaids, and other people who love any excuse to get dressed up in some crazy outfit--proof that New York is still New York, at least once a year, in places like Coney Island.



After the parade Billy and Savitri gave their King and Queen speeches to a small but rapt crowd. Billy urged us to save Coney. Savitri spoke of her deep-sea sorrows and planned starvation. The rest of us crossed our fingers and prayed for a miracle.




Friday, June 20, 2008

Men in Leather

In celebration of those vanished men in leather--many taken by the AIDS epidemic--enjoy my visual retrospective of the city's lost queer fetish clubs, showing them as they were yesterday...and what I discovered in their places today. Be sure to click the lavender club titles for more juicy info and images.

The Ramrod
394 West St.
Yesterday:

Today:

photo: forgotten ny
Badlands
380-390 West Street
Yesterday:

photo: Richard Wandel

Today:
see Christopher's End

The Anvil: 1974-1986
500 West 14th St.
Yesterday:
photo from bitter queen
Today:


The Mineshaft: 1976-1985
835 Washington St.
Yesterday:
photo from bitter queen

Today:

Vault/Hellfire/Manhole
28 9th Ave at 14th St.
Yesterday:

Today:

The Eagle's Nest
142 11th Ave at 21st St.
Yesterday:

Today:
see also: Bitter Queen
The Lure
409 W. 13th St.
Today:

The Spike: 1974-2000
120 11th Ave at 20th St.
Today:
More reading:
Christopher's End
NY Press: Pornology Villager: Bring Back Beefcake
Gay History of the Village

Thursday, June 19, 2008

*Everyday Chatter

Update on the passing of Taxi Ray Kottner: I heard from his niece Maria via email, who informs us that Ray "went into cardiac arrest while sitting in his cab late Saturday night" and passed the following morning. His ashes will be interred at Ferncliff Cemetery in Hartsdale, sharing a mausoleum with the remains of luminaries like Judy Garland and Joan Crawford. Writes his niece, "So maybe it's fitting that he is ending up in the same final resting place as all of these other icons of his era." Indeed. But why is VNY thus far the only one to cover the passing of this New York icon?

Things are not going well these days for Mosaic Man Jim Power. He's got some signs on his lamp posts requesting donations, saying "We're out of funds," and some of his art on 8th Street has been vandalized. Bowery Arts & Science is sponsoring him. Contact them for info on how to donate:


East Village crime spree--the Blue & Gold was robbed. [DBTH]

Read about the purification of Gramercy Park--let's see if Jackson Square Park turns into such a sanitized oasis as the condstrosity moves in. [Gothamist]

Columbia has begun crushing parts of Harlem in its fist. [Curbed]

Cooper Square Hotel voted ugliest building in town. No argument there. [AMNY]

Happy Birthday Bowery Boys!

New Bear Stearns uniform: "a polo shirt, a sport coat, and incongruous manacles." [NYO]

As conjectured by commenters and today confirmed by a photo-tipster, that mystery Mexican-Moroccan storefront at 2nd Ave and 11th is so very much a real estate office:

Discussing Eminent Domain

Slaving over a hot blog every day, day in and day out, doesn't pay (I am seriously considering the evils of ads), but now and then, there's a perk. The NYPL sent me a free ticket to their Eminent Domain talk last night and I don't turn down free stuff. The speakers were political scientist Marshall Berman, urban studies professor Tom Angotti, blogger Brian Berger, and psychiatrist Mindy Fullilove.



It began with the trailer from a short film about the Atlantic Yards Project by moderator Michael Galinksy. Angotti gave a brief history of eminent domain and its abuses, saying, "There is no definition of blight. It's a hoax. Blight is in the eyes of the beholder."

Mindi Fullilove discussed the trauma of gentrification and displacement, which she calls "rootshock," similar to the trauma that happens to plants when you yank them out of the soil. The loss of neighborhood fabric, that collective creation, she said, can lead to "terrible enduring pain, loss, and grief."

Marshall Berman opted not to speak about the perils of modernity and asked if anyone in the audience had seen Don't Mess with the Zohan. I might have been the only person to raise a hand. (Damn those NYPL elitists.) Berman said, "I don't know much about the Atlantic Yards project, but see Zohan... It's good for your morale to see that it's possible to blow these [real estate developer] creeps away." He's right, the movie has a strong anti-gentrification message.


photo: Ethan Levitas

Brian Berger gave the outer-borough argument, saying, "The Lower East Side had a great 100-year run as a cultural engine, driving arts and literature, and if that's over, or in a lull, that's unfortunate, but there are other things happening elsewhere in the city."

Marshall Berman agreed that we should be optimistic, that displaced and traumatized New Yorkers will rise again elsewhere and create new things elsewhere. "They go on and form new neighborhoods," like the people in Fiddler on the Roof (Berman was big on movies last night) whose town was blown away, yet they went on.

The speakers began to deride nostalgia and Fullilove stepped to its defense, saying, "Nostalgia was coined by psychiatrists, who saw that people who moved far from home could die from longing for their home." She asked us to respect that nostalgia is not just some bittersweet emotion, but rather a testament to the fact that "home is an object of attachment, like a mother or a father, home is a secondary system of homeostasis. When you destroy this system, you destroy a person's ability to function in the world. Nostalgia is something we need to understand and respect."

Overall, other than Fullilove, I found there was too much optimism and resignation from the panelists. Rage came instead from the audience members. During the Q&A, Harlem and Lower East Side residents raged against gentrification. One woman informed us, "The new gentrifiers are trying to change the name of Marcus Garvey Park--they think it's too militant and want to call it Mount Morris Park," the park's name under its original (white) developers.

We did have one yunnie (yuppie/whatever) in the audience, or at least someone who presented a reasonable facsimile thereof. "I'm wearing a dark suit," he said, "So I feel the need to represent the Republican viewpoint. Who's going to take the side of the government? Maybe Pataki is not a jerk!" They took away his microphone but he kept yelling. "I'm playing devil's advocate. Next time you do this panel, get someone to represent the government!"


photo: Zoe Leonard

In the end, the NYPL host quoted Milan Kundera as saying, "A European is someone who longs for Europe." To which I will add the implied: A New Yorker is someone who longs for New York.

Maybe this is how you know if you're a New Yorker or not. It's not where you were born, or how many generations precede you, or how you make a living, but do you long painfully for New York?

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Nick's Hair Stylists

There is one lesson I still have yet to learn: When I see a place that tingles my J-Reaper senses and I know it will soon vanish, I need to get in there and partake of their services fast. Instead, I add it to the ever-growing VNY Deathlist and hope for the best. Again and again, I am left bereft.



Today, it was Nick's Hair Stylists on Horatio. It's gone. Vanished. The windows are papered and the inside is being gutted. No more sparkly gold chairs. No more beehived ladies. Soon, Nick's wonderful old signage will also go, along with the tagline: "Always at the right wave length."



The Villager wrote about Nick Soccodato when he retired back in 2003 after 46 years. He started out styling the hair of doo-wop groups like The Regents and the Belmonts. He did Pacino's hair.

Irene Naumova was one of the star stylists at Nick's. A Yelp commenter and fan wrote:

"
She's a little old Russian lady that reminds me of my grandmother. She remembers the details of my life, usually gives me a good haircut, and then brings out the hot-lather and straight-razor for the finishing touches. She still wants to use mousse on me. Sometimes she's tired, and the haircut isn't flawless, but it doesn't matter. It is always the best haircut I've ever had, every time. Her clients love her. Some of have been seeing her for over 20 years. They bring her flowers and candy. There is an unspoken cult of Irene. And that's because she's a bit of NYC that's fading away, as is Nick's."

You are now free to commence weeping.

*Everyday Chatter

Red Hook locals waited "in horror" for the "big yellow blob" of Ikea to inevitably open, because, in the end, "Rich people--they get what they want." [Gothamist]

Owner of Bowery Wine Co. offers to serve pizza to "moron protestors" at the next Die Hard event. Hey, free pizza! [NYO]

Fulton Fish Market to be replaced with a 42-story (!), Brooklyn-Bridge-dwarfing, totally out of context, apartment and hotel tower that will cantilever over the river (!) and generally go about "dominating many vistas of the East River waterfront." [Times] & [Curbed]


"Hell has found its way into the peaceful town of Red Hook," says a local as Ikea opens its doors with a lot of screaming and yelling. [Racked]

Even in Canada, they know New York is vanishing, "diseased now with velvet ropes." [Globe & Mail]

Thursday, June 19, 7:30 pm: Freebird Books in Red Hook hosts a "post-apocalyptic discussion" with Richard Matheson's I Am Legend. Mmm...post-apocalypse fun!

It's 1984 all over again: Revisit the first sightings of alligator shirts in the EV. [Grieve]

Psychedelic Solution, that odd place above the new Elletaria on W. 8th, the place I've been meaning to get to and check out before it vanished, has vanished. [Flaming P]

Gramercy Pawnbrokers

Good news and bad news. I was relieved and surprised to find that Gramercy Pawnbrokers, against all expectations, is still standing. But I was flabbergasted to discover that the rest of the block at 23rd and 3rd has become an immense wall of white stone and glass.



Curbed called it a "condstrosity" and it is. Except it's now an NYU dorm. And it cantilevers over the little pawnshop like a giant kneeling on the shoulders of a child. I am sure if it could have, it would have blobbed down the other side to totally engulf the walkup, like its neighbor just one block south at 22nd. I guess a lot of Things are eating Gramercy these days.



Unless you are everywhere every day, you just don't see all the changes until it's too late. I used to stand on that corner and wait for the 3rd Ave bus to take me home. There was a magazine store there and I would spend my waiting time looking at the magazines in the windows. What else stood on that block? I can't remember. It's all been wiped away.

When they tore down whatever buildings used to be there, the buildings I have forgotten, a mural revealed itself. Now that's vanished too. The coming first-floor tenants will be Rite-Aid and HSBC bank.



The things worth looking at in this city are dwindling. What we take in visually becomes our thoughts. When we look in the window of a pawnshop, we see stories--wedding rings tell of love lost and betrayed, guitars speak of dreams deferred, typewriters tell more tales than we can imagine here. What will our thoughts become when all that's left to see are the blank faces of condstrosities?