Showing posts with label NYC Events. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NYC Events. Show all posts

13 October 2012

Get Plaid

Come on by and say, "Oh, hey."

25 January 2012

A Hot & Humid Night with Elmore Leonard

This guy looked like I felt.

Wally's, Cold Shot to the Heart - Second shelf down on far left

Our row

"I allow three exclamation points every 100,000 words." E.L.

The Ten Rules

The night was unseasonably warm and humid for January in New York. Crime novelist Wallace Stroby, attired in black Schott motorcycle jacket, black t-shirt and Coleman mustard Timberlands, strolled into the art deco masterpiece on 47th Street that is the Center for Fiction. Suddenly, Stroby screamed loudly, "Shit, I never got my tickets!!!"

I think I broke six of Leonard's rules. Maybe seven. A lotta people crammed into the second floor of the Center for Fiction to hear Elmore Leonard talk about writing last night. Crappy Fish & Chips for a late lunch appeared in my gut half way through. My heart was not into picture taking but I caught enough of what Stroby called, "pure gold!!!"

"I wrote a scene about a detective who quits to become a photographer. He borrows a wheel chair from a friend who stole it at the airport and sits outside a terminal taking pictures of people arriving in Miami. Guy comes over and says, "Nice camera. Mind if I check it out?" Fella hands him the camera and the guy walks off with it. The fella gets outta the wheel chair, knocks the guy down and beats his head against the curb.

I thought it was okay, but the scene stews with me for a couple weeks and I changed it. Guy takes the camera, walks a few steps, turns back to the fella in the wheel chair and says, 'Can you walk?' Fella in the wheel chair nods. Guy walks back and gently puts the camera back on the fella's lap."

Thanks for the motivation, Wally. At least I have my opening:

"Bad idea getting involved with a broad who knows guns. I slept with a woman I went through the police academy with. Afterwards, she broke down and cleaned a .25 automatic in bed. I never went back. I'd have preferred it if she just had a cigarette."

31 October 2011

T.W.A.T. 1984

1984 Greenwich Village Halloween Parade Photo by Bob Leafe

Long before the Village parade became over crowded with cliched Bridge & Tunnel Zombies, the sidewalks were lined with mostly straights while the parade featured everything from elaborate floats to a single black man dressed as a Drum Majorette in white boots with pom-poms, throwing a spinning baton in the air with one hand while he balanced a huge ghetto blaster on his shoulder playing marching music.

His style and performance were bested only by four moustached men dressed in 1940s airline stewardess uniforms, stockings, heels and matching pill box hats. They flank marched in step and every 50 feet or so would turn over large round hat boxes one by one revealing, "T. W. A. T." More photos of the '84 parade can be seen here.

Even the many blue suited and Ronald Regan masked cliches of the time allowed one to stand out through the intelligent use of a chain to drag around a hunched over senior citizen while carrying a sign that read, "EAT THE POOR."

29 August 2011

Dark & Stormy - A Weekend with Irene

28 August @ 6:36 PM
Fast moving clouds race by a slow moving Columbus Circle that's empty of traffic and people. Windy, cool and refreshing. It feels like a cocktail at the end of a long day.

27 August @ 11:05 AM
Rain is coming down as sky darkens. Last minute shopping. Whole Foods is closed.

27 August @ 11:10 AM
Time Warner Center is open but nothing in it is.

27 August @10:30 AM
Ninth Avenue diner is open until 11:00 AM. Mass Transit shuts down at noon.

27 August @ 12:03 PM
Morton Williams is open but lines stretch the length of the store. A bare bread aisle and no Pop Tarts.

27 August @ 12:33 PM
A Ninth Avenue deli is open, empty of people and crammed with cheese, bread, cured meats, wine and friendship. "We can't slice this. Is that okay?" No problem. No gouging. No lines. A 'NYC Survival' lesson learned. Turn left when everyone is turning right.

28 August @ 7:33 PM
Duane Reade exhibits pre - Irene loss control. All chains are still closed Sunday.

28 August @ 6:57 PM
57th Street looking east from 8th Avenue. There is no traffic.

28 August @ 7:03 PM
There is no subway.

28 August @7:17 PM
There is an open Bodega. Ice cream is very popular.

All photos taken with cell phone and filtered thru Instagram

25 March 2011

Triangle Shirtwaist Fire

25 March 1911
Max Blanck and Issac Harris

Just before 5PM, a fire broke out in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory at 245 Greene Street. 146 garment workers, mostly women, lost their lives when escape was prevented because of a locked fire door. A police officer at the scene said that he didn't think he would ever forget the sickening sound of the women hitting the sidewalk when they jumped from the building rather than burn.

Max Blanck and Issac Harris were the owners. They stood trial and both were acquitted. They paid the families of the dead one weeks wages and later settled with 23 families for $75 each. Their insurance company settled with the owners for $400 for each of the 146 families. Blanck and Harris netted a $325 profit for each life lost. Two years later Issac Harris was fined $20 for locking a fire door.

17 March 2011

Erin go... Bud Lite?

"The best part is we a have a local reveler who's a [little person] dressed as leprechaun running around all day giving out free shots of Jameson," says Rathbone's owner Chris Deboir, 38. He expects to sell around 150 cases of Bud Light and 64 gallons of Guinness."

22 February 2011

The Boys

There's a sneak preview of Making the Boys this Thursday at the Florsheim Pop Up Shop (109 Mercer) from 6 to 8PM. A documentary about the The Boys in the Band, it's not only a look at the play and film but it's impact (or lack thereof) today. When asked if he knew of, Boys in the the Band, Project Runway's Christian Siriano guessed it involved the Jonas Brothers.

This gay cowboy dressed in all white swishes into a saloon and says to the bartender, "Darling, I'd like a tall glass of cold milk." Bartender says sure. Cowboy looks around and asks, "Say, where is everybody?" Bartender says, "They're out back hanging fags." Cowboy says, "No fucking shit. Gimme a whiskey."

My first fag joke from 9th grade. In the early '90s, my ex-wife worked in a business known for employing gay men. Some were out but many were still in the closet. On our way home from a party I mentioned it was sad they couldn't all be out of the closet. My ex turned to me in surprise, "Really?" she said. Her astonishment short lived when I added, "That way I wouldn't embarrass myself by telling a fag joke."

After the divorce, a good friend who was gay told me he wished his sexuality was a choice. I must have looked confused. "Do you think I'd choose to have my parents disown me? Fear every day I'll lose my job? Fear everyday I could be killed by a mob or from having sex? Do you think I'd choose this life?" And for the first time it all made sense when I said, "As much as I love pussy - you love dick and there's nothing we can do about it." "Exactly!" he said. And then I wondered what my life would be like if I was hated for loving women.