Bowlmor

VANISHED

The original Bowlmor Lanes closed Monday night after 76 years in business.

Grieve posted their official goodbye, which states, in part, "Our historic location...is being forced to close in order to make way for a luxury condominium."

The whole building has been stripped of its many independent businesses--including Stromboli pizza, a magazine shop, and a parking garage--all regular-folks kind of stuff, all to make room for yet more luxury condos. Again, the many becomes the one. The democratic becomes the elitist.



I never bowled at Bowlmor after its dreadful renovation, which gutted the place of all its antique character, now just a hazy memory of brown wood paneling and dusty trophies. Still, the death of a bowling alley hurts. My childhood was spent among the lanes.

League nights were spent at the Bowl-A-Rama, occupying myself at the pinball machines and snack dispensers, where many bags of Bugles were consumed while my mother racked up spares and strikes, dressed in a T-shirt emblazoned with the unsavory slogan "Bowlers Do It with Balls."

I remember clouds of second-hand smoke and the yeasty smell of cheap beer. The hollow wooden music of pins knocking into each other, thrum of balls rolling along the glistening maple and pine. That mysterious sign that warned, "Do Not Lob the Ball."



There wasn't much left of the old Bowlmor at Bowlmor. I went looking in vain for it during a final visit. I could barely stand to be in the place, with its screaming music and flashing disco lights. But I do love the look of bowling shoes in their cubbies. And I found this one wall, hung with black-and-white photographs, that brought about a feeling of the old place.

No matter what, it was better than condos.

Alan's Alley Seeks Volunteers

Chris writes in with the following announcement about the recently shuttered Alan's Alley video store:

"Starting on July 8th and going through the 14th he’s asking for volunteers to help him pack up the place. He’s planning on putting his inventory in storage in hopes of finding another space or some other way of restarting his business."



And "On Saturday, July 12th starting around 9pm he’s going to have an informal closing get-together with wine for his long term customers."

Alan's is on 9th Avenue and 23rd Street.

University Stationery

VANISHED

I like a stationery store. Always have. I like the words "stationery" and "stationer," and I like to see them on signs around the city. So I was disappointed when I heard from reader Chris that University Stationery had closed recently. Also, I shopped there. I made special trips to buy a very particular, perfect-sized notepad on which I wrote my many to-do lists.



I don't know how long they'd been on East 12th and I don't know why they closed, only that their sign says they're sad about it, which makes me think they didn't want to close.



And I wonder if this has anything to do with what's happening directly across 12th Street. Last night was the last night of the original Bowlmor Lanes, after 76 years. Its entire building has been stripped of multiple businesses, all pushed out to make room for luxury condos.

Next to that, also across from the former University Stationery store, a parking garage is being converted into 17EAST12, for yet more ultra-luxurious homes (including a penthouse for $25 million).



The utterly, insanely florid website copy is a must-read. Here's what the developer has to say about 17EAST12: "Situated in one of the most sought-after areas of the city, the building must reflect the prominence of the historic Gold Coast. To create a home of this caliber, I worked with the best: materials sourced from across the globe, a wealth of premium brands, and exquisite layouts and amenities... In the end, each residence needs its own passport."

Without a passport to luxury, a little stationery store couldn't stand a chance on the new "gold coast" of 12th and University. (Dare I say it? God help Cinema Village.)

Brazenhead Books

Brazenhead Books is one of the great secrets and wonders of today's New York, an anomaly in a Manhattan ruled by the obvious and the dull. Run by long-time bookseller Michael Seidenberg, it is a speakeasy bookshop housed in an undisclosed rent-stabilized Upper East Side apartment, complete with a twice-weekly salon. Jonathan Lethem has been a regular, along with many other bibliophiles who attend the salon for good company and conversations. Open to all, everyone--who can find the place--is invited.

But now Brazenhead may have to close its doors.



Seidenberg posted on his Facebook page last night, "Brazenhead Books turns its last page on October 31." They have lost their lease.

Dozens of fans and friends responded to the announcement with sadness and outrage, many vowing to fight the eviction. Please sign up on this list to get information on how to help Brazenhead.

Read more about Seidenberg and his secret bookshop at The New Yorker, listen to Conversations at Brazenhead at The New Inquiry, see more at Untapped Cities, and watch this beautiful video of what will be lost if something isn't done to save it:


There's No Place Like Here: Brazenhead Books from Etsy on Vimeo.

St. Mark's Empty Windows

I have long dreaded this sight--the windows of St. Mark's Bookshop have been emptied of their books. They have left Astor Place.



While I'm happy to know the bookstore is surviving, moving to 3rd Street off Avenue A, I am not happy that it will no longer by there to greet me as it did for two decades. Through my whole New York life, those windows were my constant, my compass.

After a difficult day at work, after a class, coming from the 6 train or the N/R, walking home down 3rd Avenue in snow, in rain, covered in summer sweat, through the miserable crowds, I knew I could stop at those ample windows and look--and I knew that just looking at those books would bring me back to center. Gazing through the glass, taking in the titles, the authors, the covers, I could feel my blood pressure pleasantly descend, spreading a sense of calm through my body and mind. Those windows were a daily balm.

Standing there, I could imagine all there was to read and write. I could imagine that one day my own book would make it into those windows (that never happened). So much possibility! So many ideas!

What will greet me next in this space? A brainless bank, a soulless Starbucks, a fucking frozen yogurt emporium? Surely nothing that will be the medicine that was St. Mark's Bookshop off Astor Place.

Until that more dreadful day, they have left us with "A Final Sonnet" by Ted Berrigan. It begins with the line: "How strange to be gone in a minute!"



The long story:
St. Mark's Success
Michael Moore at St. Mark's
Buy A Book Weekend at St. Mark's
Xmas in September
St. Mark's Vestibule

Lucky Cheng's Goodbye

VANISHED

As I reported here last week, Lucky Cheng's had its last shows this weekend. While they have not changed their phone message, they have now updated the Reservations page on their website to say goodbye:

"After 21 years of entertaining and feeding the masses, we sadly close our doors following the death of our owner Hayne Suthon and her long battle with breast cancer.

We thank you for celebrating your birthdays, bachelorette parties, Girls Night Out, and gatherings. Many of you would celebrate your Sweet Sixteen with us and return years later to celebrate your Bachelorette Party. Again, thank you for letting us be a part of your life."



While on June 28, their Facebook page denounced "inaccurate rumors being spread on social media," today their page has the same goodbye note as above--plus a video of Shirley Bassey singing "The Party's Over." And what a long, wild party it was.



Previously:
History at Lucky Cheng's
Lucky Cheng's to Close

Jade Fountain & Babel Blocks

As first reported in May, the Jade Fountain liquor store and the Olympic Diner were evicted from Delancey Street by the Essex Crossing mega-development.

This weekend, Jade Fountain ("As Old As Hills") had its final sale.



Most of the booze was gone from the shelves. What remained was 50% off.



In the window, they sold empty bottles for $5 each. Everything must go. Including Jade Fountain.



Meanwhile, an artistic banner has just been erected on the chain-link fence next door--a typical sight on locations about to be mega-developed.

It's called the Lower East Side History Tribute Fence and features something called "Babel Blocks." As The Lo-Down explained when the design was selected, it's a modern take on "It's a Small World," a collection of caricatures meant to depict the diverse history of the Lower East Side. 



There's a bearded hipster holding an iPhone and another holding what looks like a Starbucks cup. There's also an Asian mom and a Hispanic mom, a Hasidic man, an elderly white lady, and what looks like a baker of artisanal doughnuts (or maybe cronuts).

Today, the people you see on this end of Delancey Street are mostly people of color, not middle class and not affluent. But that's been changing.



Of course, once the enormous, glittering Essex Crossing comes (yes, even with its selection of affordable housing), it will spur more development like itself, and much of this diversity will be wiped out. Notice that the banner is called a tribute to Lower East Side history, not future.

In the end, Delancey will be left to only a few of the Babel Block figures on this banner, and you can guess which ones.