"But walking around the East Village, I just want to cry at the state of it. There are so many fuckin’ jocks everywhere! It’s like a frat house everywhere. There are all those terrible bars like The 13th Step, and it’s just spreading over to A and B. And now, in Williamsburg, you have all these frat guys dressed as alternatives. I don’t know if it’s a sign of the times, but where are the real weirdos?" They have apparently moved to Park Slope.
A sign goes up in a rapidly changing New York neighborhood. It contains this joke. On Facebook, a reasonable demand for an apology: "This is racist at worst and insensitive at best."
A survey of the responses: — "Cruelty"?!? Really? Don't make everything a race issue, princess.
—^^ Agreed. Sickening – Typical transplant bullshit. Go elsewhere with this – we don't want this here. Honestly, I'm so sick and tired of all the nubies that need to act up like this – Here's a thought: MOVE TO FLORIDA. IT'S VERY HIP AND SUPREMELY IRONIC THERE.
—Phew almost went off topic there. Anyway, this sign does not offend me.[...]
On a recent afternoon, an older man and woman self-consciously configured themselves in front of the south reflecting pool at the 9/11 Memorial. The man placed his hand on the woman’s hip in an awkward clasp and grinned broadly as another person took their picture with a digital camera. A girl in a Yankees cap took a selfie with her camera phone, the Freedom Tower soaring into the sky behind her, the reflecting pool draining into nothingness. She was smiling. An Ethiopian man asked me to take a photo of him and his family. They wore blank expressions, though the youngest girl with them hammed for the camera with her [...]
"At first, Mermaid Flotilla seems like another tired variation on the 'low-impact foodboat' trend, down to the repurposed tug and biofluorescent strip lighting. But then you taste the braised mock bluefin tuna with lemon-tarragon crème fraîche. And while this reviewer has never tasted real bluefin, it’s hard to imagine the real thing could best this—there’s nothing mock about the intensity and flavor."
Late this evening—be ready by 8—the sun will fall into alignment with the Manhattan grid, illuminating the borough's cross streets with a full, golden glow. In return, the city's buildings will frame the sun perfectly: Photographers, charge your batteries!
You never know what else will happen during Manhattanhenge. In 1991, a dozen children rose from their strollers in the Upper West Side and walked into the park; they were found an hour later, pinned gently against the inside of the bandshell dome, laughing. During 1995's second Manhattanhenge, a cub reporter at the Post, acting on an anonymous phone tip, stared directly into the sun and repeated an unfamiliar name [...]
There are 39 gas stations left in Manhattan, down from 60 in 2004. Just 12 of these stations are below 96th Street. This is not because people aren't driving, or because cars are becoming more efficient, or because the public transportation system has expanded. It is a small problem created by a much larger problem, which is itself a symptom of enormous problems: Thanks to skyrocketing real estate prices, Manhattan gas stations are worth much more than the money the owner can make selling gas. Last year, a Getty near the High Line sold for $23.5 million. A few months later, another station in the borough went for $25 [...]
There's a rat. The intercom woman speaks: "The next stop is 47th–50th Streets, Rockefeller Center." The rat is walking in your direction. The train across the platform—other way—is about to leave. "Stand clear of the closing doors, please." The rat is trotting like a wolf. A loud clattering sound: A suitcase down the stairs? Repairs? The rat doesn't care. The rat is galloping. The rat is here. The rat bites. Get off my subway platform, human. Your time is over.
If I had to choose one subway train to not ride, I’d not ride the 2 train. After researching more than twenty subway lines and testing six measures of performance, the Straphangers Campaign found that that the 2 was the one train that its panel could agree on was the worst. It's not perfectly awful—although it scored below average on "regularity of service," "delays caused by mechanical breakdowns," and "seat availability during rush hour." It fortunately tied for best in the system on subway car announcements. However, it is pretty bad, and of all the trains, it is the one that I would not ride.
For a few months now, residents of Crown Heights, in Brooklyn, have been hearing about a new place called Berg'n. You couldn't focus-group a better teaser for the target clientele: "A beer hall from the creators of the Brooklyn Flea and Smorgasburg featuring the food of Asia Dog, Mighty Quinn's, Pizza Moto, and Ramen Burger." It's a big huge place with long tables with food truck food and a Recognizable Sensibility, situated on the middle of New York's most aggressively gentrifying neighborhood, brought to you by Goldman Sachs. It's going to be popular; the people for which it is intended look forward to the new leisure complex. They will [...]
It's weird that people would just say that marijuana is good for some ailments without any data to back that up at all, huh: The dearth of data has not prevented legislators and voters across the nation from endorsing marijuana for more than 40 conditions. Patients with rheumatoid arthritis, for instance, qualify for marijuana treatment in at least three states.
Yet there are no published trials of smoked marijuana in rheumatoid arthritis patients, said Dr. Mary-Ann Fitzcharles, a rheumatologist at McGill University who reviewed the evidence of the drug’s efficacy in treating rheumatic diseases. “When we look at herbal cannabis, we have zero evidence for efficacy,” she said. “Unfortunately [...]
The big ugly Kentile sign, emblem of a lost industrial Brooklyn and Instagram subject for commuters coming to and from their much more beautiful neighborhoods, is done: The scaffolding has gone up, the letters are coming down.
Who is nostalgic for Kentile, the company that manufactured asbestos-laden flooring and collapsed under the weight of lawsuits two decades ago? Nobody: This is about the object. The sign's appeal was that it was very large and conspicuously old, and it had decayed, naturally, just so, in a location where such a thing would never be built today. It is the most general possible signifier of change and history, and one more [...]
“I would not consider it fair if someone in Williamsburg were complaining that we weren’t portraying Williamsburg in an accurate light, considering that person probably just moved here from Ohio,” said Nick Carr, another location scout. “Did they come here for the same reason they’re filming here” — in search of a gritty-yet-glamorous fantasy of Williamsburg?
The New York Times generously saved this piece—"To Hollywood, All Things Hip Lie in Brooklyn"—for your return to work today, since you'll likely need all the fury you can muster to get through it. I mean have you seen the weather forecast, oof.
A "smell scientist" enjoys a warm morning in New York City:
The savor of a toasted bagel had traveled on a breeze.
“It’s windy, we don’t have to move around. The smells come to us,” she said.
“A few minutes ago, I smelled the East River,” she said. The telltale scent: “briny, salty, fishy.”
Steam rising from underground brought “a really powdery, moist, kind of sweet smell.”
“It’s like the world’s biggest humidifier.”
Walking through Grand Central, she picked up on pastries and coffee, after-shave and toothpaste.
There was also “disinfectant from the trains,” “brown-black shoe polish,” and “cheap air freshener from a Town Car” coming from one [...]
A couple of years ago, I went to get my jeans mended at a store in my neighborhood called Kill Devil Hill. It mostly sold New-Old Brooklyn tchotchkes—nice soaps, pharmaceutical brown bottles, fancy combs—but in the back of the shop was a tiny denim repair business. When I mentioned being embarrassed about the crater-sized holes in the crotch, the person behind the counter told me that, actually, crotches on jeans fail all the time; most jeans, if they fail, fail in the crotch. Since the repairs are cheap—twenty dollars or so—there’s a small army of people walking around with mended, reinforced, double-strength, nearly indestructible crotches.
So last week, [...]
I interviewed Saul in 2011 for a project about sex addiction that never came to fruition, at least in the form I had originally envisioned. A sixty-something native of Bensonhurst, he had the most delicious speaking voice, which I dare describe as a potion of equal parts Jewish, gay, and old-school Brooklyn. But it was his untapped authorial voice that moved me to develop our conversation into a monologue, unburdened by an interviewer's questions, and strung together into a reflection on the intersection of sexuality, religion, and identity in the 1960s and 70s.
I didn’t have sex until I was already out of college, and was a social worker. I [...]
Ronald Herron, better known as the rapper Ra Diggs, "beat a body" once. He did not this time: The Gowanus Houses drug kingpin was convicted by a jury of three murders—including the one he had ducked in state court—and a number of drug and racketeering charges.
No one can afford to live anywhere, at least not in New York City or San Francisco, unless, of course, you can afford to buy a whole place to live, but then you have other problems, like all of the other people who can afford to buy a place to live, because there aren't that many places to live, even if you are capable of purchasing one outright: And just 1,163 new condos are expected this year in prime Brooklyn neighborhoods, according to Corcoran Sunshine, a new development marketing company. Fewer than 800 will come online next year. That’s nothing compared to the 10,000 new condominium units slated [...]
Sure, it was a "legendary local shoe store" and "now it's a fucking fro-yo place," but it probably won't be for long: Twist on Avenue A opened last fall, then promptly disappeared; the unrelated shop Twister on Second Avenue closed in March, lasting just over half a year. The festive-sounding Yogurt Crazy was first announced for Third Avenue in 2012 but instead, a notice from NYU — its landlord — appeared taped to the storefront last year demanding $37,134.87 in back rent. Over in Brooklyn, Forever Yogurt signed a lease near Barclays Center, but [...]