Monday, January 1, 2018
Even after these many years, I love listening to Edith Piaf singing Non, je ne regrette rien. https://www.youtube.com/watch?
However,
I am not quite so steadfast in dealing with my mistakes. But there is
one mistake in my reporting, although recurring, that I might deny
responsibility for. Just last week, for instance, I reproduced a chart
on income inequality that appeared as empty space for many of you. Was I careless yet again? At
other times, I seemed to have presented black holes rather than the
pungent drawing, picture, or clipping that I was enthusing over.
There is a simple answer, however. It's your fault, not mine. Viewing this opus on many smartyphones or tablets, although undoubtedly convenient, denies you the full experience -- the accurate reproduction of the referenced material. So, go home, change into something comfortable and power up a real computer to get the full picture, literally and figuratively.
There is a simple answer, however. It's your fault, not mine. Viewing this opus on many smartyphones or tablets, although undoubtedly convenient, denies you the full experience -- the accurate reproduction of the referenced material. So, go home, change into something comfortable and power up a real computer to get the full picture, literally and figuratively.
. . .
For
decades now, I have been starting many sentences with "I remember when .
. ." The real estate section this weekend had a phrase in a
sub-headline that I think might even evoke the same comment from someone
half my age: "a buyer priced out of Williamsburg."
Williamsburg
is a Brooklyn neighborhood beginning at the East River and situated
opposite Manhattan's Lower East Side. The Williamsburg Bridge opened in
December 1903, connecting the two neighborhoods just as Jewish
migration from Eastern Europe was swelling. For many Jews, moving to
Williamsburg was a small step from the enormously overcrowded tenements
of the Lower East Side where they first settled. In 1910, the Lower
East Side had a population density of 375,000 per square mile, 3 to 4
times that of any other part of Manhattan.
While
Williamsburg offered some relief from the Lower East Side, it was at
best a temporary haven for most Jews, who moved further east into
Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island or north into the Bronx and (hoo hah)
Westchester as soon as they could afford it. By the 1950s, when I took
the Jamaica or Canarsie lines (now known as the J train and the L train)
through Williamsburg almost daily into Manhattan, it had become a
Spanish neighborhood, as newer immigrants first succeeded the Jews on
the Lower East Side and then sought relief across the East River.
("Hispanic" did not enter into the vocabulary of non-Hispanics until
later.)
Where the tracks were elevated, I saw some pretty miserable housing stock
punctuated with burnt out stores, ignored by public and private
authorities. Williamsburg competed with the adjacent neighborhood of
Bushwick and the South Bronx as probably the worst residential areas of
New York City. But, that was then. Now, people are being "priced out
of Williamsburg." Go figure.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
I am pleased when I can offer some guidance on places to eat, usually positive since I take my own pleasure seriously and try to make judicious choices. Today, however, I raise a red flag even in the absence of personal experience.
At first glance, Industry Kitchen, 70 South Street, seems to be an Italian restaurant with some contemporary touches, kale quinoa salad alongside lasagna "San Gennaro." It's the pizza section of the menu where I took offense. While your stomach might rebel against the Pop Candy Land pizza "rainbow crust, cream cheese frosting, pop rocks, cotton candy," it's your soul that has to be wounded by the 24K, "Stilton, foie gras, platinum Ossetra caviar, truffle, 24K gold leaves" priced at $2,000. You may upgrade to "Almas caviar" for an additional $700. Either version requires 24 hour advance notice and a signed note from Steve Mnuchin.
http://industry-kitchen.com/20
I am pleased when I can offer some guidance on places to eat, usually positive since I take my own pleasure seriously and try to make judicious choices. Today, however, I raise a red flag even in the absence of personal experience.
At first glance, Industry Kitchen, 70 South Street, seems to be an Italian restaurant with some contemporary touches, kale quinoa salad alongside lasagna "San Gennaro." It's the pizza section of the menu where I took offense. While your stomach might rebel against the Pop Candy Land pizza "rainbow crust, cream cheese frosting, pop rocks, cotton candy," it's your soul that has to be wounded by the 24K, "Stilton, foie gras, platinum Ossetra caviar, truffle, 24K gold leaves" priced at $2,000. You may upgrade to "Almas caviar" for an additional $700. Either version requires 24 hour advance notice and a signed note from Steve Mnuchin.
http://industry-kitchen.com/20
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
I
was doubly fortunate to go to the Rangers game at Madison Square Garden
with Good Gary, a neighbor, fellow congregant and devoted Rangers fan.
More than that, Good Gary is a season ticket holder, which granted us
access to a private party before the game, amply stocked with free
drinks and food, good food. So, the companionship and the party
amounted to a daily double. However, we did not make it to a trifecta
because the Rangers lost badly.
Thursday, January 4, 2018
A
little blizzard, so what. We headed out after lunch to the movieplex
at Broadway and West 68th Street, a couple of short blocks from Palazzo di
Gotthelf, to see All the Money in the World, not only an
interesting historical tale, but historic moviemaking in that the finished
product was recut just before release to substitute Christopher Plummer
for Kevin Spacey. While some ventures have been scrapped in light of the
predatory behavior of some participants, the Money people took a risk commercially and artistically.
The verdict: All the Money in the World
is a very good movie, not excellent, but gripping. Christopher Plummer
occupies the role of J. Paul Getty seamlessly. I don't know if digital
tricks were used to insert him into certain scenes previously shot with
Kevin Spacey, but there is no hint of trickery. Kudos to the
production team.
Money
was the fourth movie that we have seen in six days, almost as many as we
saw all year. Why this sudden burst of cinephilia? Did our Netflix
subscription expire? Did all the reading lamps at home go out at once?
The reason simply is "Movie Pass," available at moviepass.com,
a $10 monthly subscription that allows you to see one movie a day at
virtually every theater on Manhattan Island and 4,000 others throughout the United States, at no extra
charge. The only limitations are no 3-D, no IMAX, one admission per card
holder, smartyphone required, purchase must be on day of showing, and
transaction must be initiated within 100 yards of the theater. Reserved
seats, more and more common around here, require a visit to the human
ticket seller, although the entire transaction is pretty simple.
It's a great deal, but so far it's America First. David, David, Katherine, Kathleen, Marianne and Robina, you'll just have to shell out those pounds and euros each time you want to catch a movie. Maybe that's a small price to pay in exchange for a sane national leader, female at that.
Friday, January 5, 2017
Happy Birthday, Tom Terrific.
. . .
I was worried this morning. In addition to free food and drinks at the party before the hockey game on Wednesday, a couple of familiar former players circulated in the crowd. As did others, I moved in to have my picture taken with them. Even before the game started, I sent the photographs to a handful of people who could be expected to recognize at least one of us. I soon got amused reactions. However, I heard nothing from my brother, an avid Rangers fan. Make that a very avid Rangers fan.
Given the nasty storm conditions, I thought to check in with him. What really motivated me was his silence in the face of his younger brother posing with retired Rangers. I'm not sure what analogues to offer to drive this point home. Reducing income taxes for Republicans? Inviting Harvey Weinstein to a sorority party? Taking Chris Christie to a bakery? Guaranteed to evoke a response.
Telephone calls to his home and mobile lines after 9 AM went unanswered, elevating my concern. America's Favorite Epidemiologist then took charge, looked up the owner of my brother's apartment complex, called them, and asked for the name and telephone number of the on-site manager. A few minutes later, the manager was knocking on my brother's door, awakening him from an evidently sound sleep, resulting from his inability to fall asleep until the middle of the night.
He called us and explained that he was still searching for a bon mot in response to the photographs. He stopped short of suggesting that the Rangers loss on Wednesday night kept him for getting a normal night's rest a day later.
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