life on greased streets
On Mott or Mulberry, further down from where we lived, I saw a guy run out of a building, a beat-cop pursued on foot, who drew his six shooter revolver and fired. Just like that. Nobody really cared. We didn’t eat meat in those days. Getting to Vegetarian’s Paradise on Bowery below Canal for our mock meat wheat gluten delights could be perilous.
Read MoreThe doors to the Vice Chancellor's private conference room swung open and in walked a breathless supplicant, a male assistant, hands palms-up and gingerly holding before him, as if transporting the Queen's most precious jewel encrusted crown, a doughnut pillow, which was hurriedly, precisely, delicately aligned onto the vacant chair at the head of the table. He scurried back to the door taking the Vice Chancellor's arm, half stepping, assuring sure footedness, lovingly stabilizing, softly, very softly, both appearing as though plying a course barefoot over rotted eggshells, some with septic yolks intact. Gas faces.
Read MoreYou know, there's nothing quite like the aroma of freshly baked bread to mask the stench of dog-hair damp NYC in late winter, plus the residual garlic patina from last Thursday night's marinara.
Read MoreSure, there were false alarms of nuclear attack in the past. I like to think that veterans of the Cold War, in our considered, existential youth, had better systems in place for warning and retaliation, and took the likelihood of that brief, bright flash with a stiff upper lip. We didn't have social media, cell phones, text alerts and Twitter. We merely had nightmares and radio.
Read MoreWhat really disturbs comfortable existence in bubble New York? Looking up from their apps the new-tech-toughs in Fone-City don't notice deeply troubling fails of society, economy and government. They fixate on historic fallout shelter signs posted during the Cold War, 1961.
Read MoreSure, it was dangerous. Some poor souls left cars parked inside the party zone and soon enough their big Detroit iron got stomped flat. Coil-spring trampolines.
Read MoreFrosty the Snowman, was a jolly happy soul,
With a corn cob pipe and a button nose, and a tablet....
Vin taught me the pronunciation and encouraged me to order by myself. The bar-tender came. "Mon..te..pool..chi..Ah..no", I said, with a broken Italian.
Read MoreShutters had a raised dining area fenced-in by wrought iron railings featuring scrolls and rosettes, à la 1970. Imagine a cocktail lounge set behind big plate glass revealing unobstructed views of 34th Street's sidewalk hustle.
Read MoreWe're selling a lifestyle, the 'teens version of the 1950s. Desi and Lucy turned around. Yet somehow the female lead still gets the funny line..."chicken towel," indeed.
Read MoreThe Cold War and its promise of mutually assured destruction never featured such sweet teddy bear cuddly cuteness, plus the anticipation of a tickle from those zitherfingers.
Read MoreWhy was Elvis annoyed? I wasn't sufficiently clairvoyant to sense the actual building address from his massive brainwave. Then I persuaded him to tell me. The next set of instructions told me to go to the address and call again. Fast-forward four seconds. I call again. I assume he was looking out of a window or security camera to see if I was hot enough to be granted entry. I was.
Read More