Vinny Peanuts

I missed this sad news, until I saw this memorial on a wall of plywood at Mulberry and Grand in Little Italy.



Vincent Cirelli Sabatino, lovingly known as Vinny Peanuts, died on April 13 from complications of COVID-19. He was 68 years old. His family posted the announcement on Instagram.

He ran Vinny's Nut House, a fixture on the corner for nearly 50 years. At the Feast of San Gennaro, the stand was always brightly lit and busy, with Vinny cutting big bricks of torrone with a knife and a hammer. It was a beautiful thing.



Vinny was one of the last holdouts of authentic Little Italy. As he told Pavement Pieces a decade ago, “There’s no more Italians left. There are no more stands like me. Before, there used to be 10 stands down just this one block that sold Italian food, just like mine. Now, I’m the only one left.”



I always got his lemon cookies, which were the best. Just the best.

Gem Spa Sign

It's happening. Right now. The Gem Spa sign has been removed from the building. The yellow awning is going with it.

Thanks to Michael Quinn for sending in these sad shots of the wreckage:



The word "iconic" gets thrown around quite a bit when it comes to New York's classic small businesses, but with Gem Spa, it fits.



Earlier this month we learned that Gem would be closing for good, felled by greed and coronavirus crisis, after decades of standing sentinel on St. Mark's Place, and after a long battle in which many of us tried like hell to keep it alive.



As long as the sign stood, it felt like Gem was still there, just waiting for the shutdown to lift, and maybe there was still a chance.

This is truly the end.

And into a U-Haul:

Update: Parul tells me, "We will be auctioning the signs, the gates, the egg cream fountain, and old milkshake machine. We are also trying to get the egg cream counter out and will auction that too if we can get it out. We are sad to be taking them down, but I did not want to leave it for the landlord to throw in the garbage or use it in the next business that comes there if they rent it to someone. It is going to storage for now and quite a few people have already asked to buy it."

Jovino's Gun

What happened to the wooden revolver hanging off the sign of John Jovino's in Little Italy? (See my update here on the fate of the sign--and the closing of the shop.)



It was there and now it's gone. Maybe they put it away for safekeeping during the coronavirus shutdown?



Jovino's has been in business since 1911 and used to be around the corner on Centre Market Place, before the block was luxurified by the Novogratz family. (I wrote all about it here.)

I don't know how old this particular Jovino gun is, but an earlier version of it shows up in a photo by the great crime photographer Weegee, who lived in a one-room apartment above the shop from the mid-1930s until 1947.


Weegee

The gun also made an appearance in the 1973 Al Pacino movie Serpico. It makes for a very photogenic antique sign and I hope it returns.

Movie Popcorn

If you miss going to the movies and enjoying a big bucket of popcorn, well, you can still enjoy one of those things. The wonderful Village East Cinema is selling movie popcorn to go -- including big, big bags of movie popcorn -- every day from 4:00 - 7:00pm.



So why not get your buttery fix and support a historic and beloved East Village theater at the same time? Win win! (Get it at East 12th and Third Ave.)

I Happen to Like New York

Even though the New York Times and other major media outlets keep repeating the idea that New York City is dead in the coronavirus shutdown, let's not give up on it yet. There are signs of life out there. Even in grief and absence, the soul of the city is thrumming, playing in a lower register, quieter and more inward.

I made this short video from photos and films I've been taking around town since the beginning of the shutdown. The spirit of the city, the beauty and life, is here. You just have to look a little harder for it.

Gem Spa

VANISHED

Another nail has been hammered into the coffin of St. Mark's Place, and the East Village, as Gem Spa has shuttered for good.

The dearly beloved shop's owner, Parul Patel, confirmed the sad news. The landlord, she told me, would not reduce or freeze the rent during the pandemic shutdown, nor would he promise not to evict the business when they were late on rent at this difficult time. The debt just kept adding up and they could not go on.



We all knew this was coming, though we hoped against hope. Many of us tried to save it--converted it into a Schitibank, cash mobbed it, celebrated its bohemian history, raised money for it, even Quarantine Cash Mobbed it--but in the pandemic there is no bouncing back.

"It is heartbreaking," Parul told me. "We truly have the best customers in the world. We consider our customers to be family. I don't think any other business has seen this amount of incredible support and love."

Parul says she will keep the website going, with Gem Spa history and with merchandise for sale--check it out and buy some while it lasts, to support the Patel family and help them recoup their losses.



Mom and pops, already struggling under high rents and difficult landlords, simply will not survive the coronavirus crisis. They could have--if the city had any real compassionate, progressive leadership.

For years, New York's City Council had the chance to protect small businesses like Gem Spa. They could have passed the Small Business Jobs Survival Act. They could have passed commercial rent regulation. But they didn't. They did nothing. And now the city's already strained mom and pops are dying under the unbearable stress of the coronavirus shutdown. When the city finally reopens, there will be nothing left but the chains.

As Penny Arcade put it on Facebook, Gem Spa was "the beating heart of the East Village and The LES... No good can come out of it closing and, in the end, the erasure of history victimizes even the people who hurry it along."


my last Gem Spa egg cream, Egg Cream Day, March 2020

In a recent article, author Arundhati Roy called the pandemic a portal, "a gateway between one world and the next," in which humans have the chance to imagine a new world. The pandemic has brought the engine of capitalism to a halt, she says, "And in the midst of this terrible despair, it offers us a chance to rethink the doomsday machine we have built for ourselves. Nothing could be worse than a return to normality."

It is too late for Gem Spa and many others, but it is not yet too late for New York. Now is the time to press for real change in this city. We must not return to the terrible normal. We must demand a new world.


Previously:
Gem Spa History
Gem Spa to Schitibank
Gem Spa Not Vanishing Yet
Gem Spa Cash Mob
A Moment at Gem Spa

Paris Cafe

VANISHED

The Paris Cafe at South Street Seaport is no more. After being in business since 1873 and surviving the numerous trials and tragedies of history, including a comeback from Hurricane Sandy, it could not survive the coronavirus shutdown of the city.



On their Facebook page, they announced:

"To all our wonderful patrons and friends I would like to extend a sincere thanks and a fond farewell from The Paris Cafe. Through no fault of anyone but the outbreak of this virus we are unable to forge a way forward that makes economic sense. We had no option but to close our doors. Hope springs eternal and perhaps with a change in the economic climate we may find our way back. With all our hearts we say thank you for all the fun, friendships and laughter as well as the few shillings spent. My thoughts are with our lovely staff at this time and we would like to thank all who subscribed to our Go Fund Me fund which is gratefully appreciated by staff in need. Our friendships will remain strong and when the grey skies clear we will meet and be renewed."


Lee Remick in front of the Paris Cafe, 1960

(thanks to a different Lee for the tip and the photo)