As I've been getting settled here in NYC – exploring, revisiting, catching up – I've been remembering some great times here in this city. My first trip to the Big Apple was just in 2004. It was the first time I was considering the move, but I wanted my first trip to be a vacation, so I got a hotel room at the Ameritania near the Ed Sullivan Theatre.
The first Broadway show I saw was the Roundabout revival of Sondheim's Pacific Overtures. Being a Sondheim nut it was a happy thing that I saw one of his shows first, especially since it features probably my favorite SS song, "Someone In A Tree." The intro to that song began and my face was suddenly a waterfall.
This trip was also incredibly significant because I visited the Margo Feiden Galleries, Al Hirschfeld's dealer. I hadn't planned on it previously, but I ended up dropping a significant amount of cash on Hirschfeld litho. (Read the story behind my purchase HERE.)
I discovered magical Central Park and marveled at how a huge, bustling, city with multitudes of busy folks has this huge green spot right smack dab in the middle of it. Here's the great Hans Christian Anderson statue next to Conservatory Water.
I love this city. I'm so happy to be here, and I'm proud of myself for taking a big step out of my box and shaking up the routine. I know it will pay off with something wonderful. To be honest, it already has. Just the act of making the jump has been a big reward.
I also want to acknowledge the constant evolution of a big city. Things go away. Sometimes this is really sad. A few visits ago (February 2007), my friend Meloney and I had an absolutely wonderful adventurous day. The main reason for the day was the Martin Sexton concert at Joe's Pub. But we dropped into an old bar called Chumley's in Greenwich Village. It has a long history as speakeasy and watering hole for multitudes (including famously many renowned authors). One of the many stories about how the term "86 it" came from originated here. When the bar owners were tipped off about a raid during Prohibition, they would call out "86 it!" which meant that the patrons were to leave out the front entrance which is 86 Bedford Street. F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald had their wedding reception here. Edna St. Vincent Millay occasionally subbed in behind the bar. It was a cozy, dingy old place lined with book dust jackets and graffiti-carved tables and benches. As Mel and I wrote poetry after the amazing Marty concert, the little fireplace took the chill off the place on the very cold day. I'm so glad that we had this magical experience.
Just two months after our visit, the pub management was digging in the basement to clear more space to chill beer kegs. They hadn't sought the correct inspections or permits, and they ended up compromising the foundation of the historic building. Although they're attempting a rebuild, Chumley's as generations have known it is gone. So sad. Here's a shot through the construction fencing.
I don't mean to leave this post on a sad note. Life goes on, and fortunately for this one amazing little nook, there are thousands more in this amazing city. Well, that's all for now. Take care! Peace and love.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
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