I might be forgiven for claiming that I possess a crystal ball. I don't -- but I certainly have, over the years, written about things long before the mainstream media or others have.
That's why I created an entire section of this blog called Mr NYC Ahead of His Time with examples of my psychic abilities.
Two blog posts that I did were about the borough of Queens and how it's essentially the "swing" borough in NYC politics -- the borough where mayors are made, the true political pulse of the city. (I referred to Queens as the "Ohio" of NYC but these days it's more like the "Wisconsin.") Also, I blogged about the political dynasties in this city, families that have posessed power in NYC for generations.
Well, whatyaknow, there was recently a big article that breaks down exactly how Queens breaksdown politically and how volatile it is, and the role that political dynasties play in NYC politics.
Like ... wow! I was writing about this stuff LONG before the hotshot political reporters in this town did. I don't claim to be brilliant but yours truly sure does have a habit of noticing and writing about things before others, a kind of "sixth sense" about NYC.
I plan to continue doing this for a long time to come!
Of all the great TV shows set in NYC, one of the best but most forgotten is the early 1990s show Brooklyn Bridge. It was one of those shows with smart writing, great acting but little seen -- yet those who did see it, loved it.
Set in the mid-1950s in Brooklyn, the show concerns a Jewish family trying to make their way up the socio-economic ladder in post-war NYC. It was a show about strivers, about trying to grow beyond your roots, about trying to "make it" while also not forgetting where you came from and who helped you along the way.
The show was created by Gary David Goldberg who, in the 1980s, had great success with the show Family Ties that made Michael J. Fox a big star. Brooklyn Bridge was based on Goldberg's childhood, and it received great reviews and award nominations -- and also low ratings.
The show had a short run, from 1991 to 1993, but it was remembered long afterwards for its quality. One of its episodes, "When Irish Eyes are Smiling", was rated as one of the best episodes of television ever made.
I remember when this show was on the air but I didn't watch it every week. I do recall one episode when the the teenage boy on the show, named Alvin, gets accepted by Bronx Science. He wants to go but his parents are worried about the very long subway ride he'd have every day from Brooklyn if he went. I remember thinking that this was a show that really got NYC -- the legnth of the commute is the kind of thing that makes people in this city think hard about what schools they want to send their kids too. My mom's dad didn't want her going to a prestigious school in Manhattan because of the commute -- a decision she always regretted.
Anyway, you can find a lot of episodes of Brooklyn Bridge on YouTube. I strongly suggest watching this nostalgic show that is itself a piece of nostalgia.
Sidenote: Alvin was played by a kid named Danny Gerard. A couple of years before Brooklyn Bridge I remember seeing him on stage in Les Miserables as Gavoroch. He was really talented and I don't know why he didn't go on to a big career as an adult. But he's really good in Brooklyn Bridge.
Every day in the news you hear things like "The White House says ..." or "According to the White House ..." or "Now we go live to The White House ..." -- whatever it is, it's "White House" this or "White House" that.
It's the most powerful building in the world, and its very name projects power. And we all know, it's located in Wasington, DC.
But the first capital city of these United States was New York City -- from April 30, 1789 until August 30, 1790, approximately. The first capital was at Federal Hall. And then the capital moved to Phildelphia while Washington DC was being built.
But where did the President, George Washington, live in NYC?
Two places: the first was the Samuel Osgood House at 3 Cherry Street. Washington moved in just before being sworn in. Believe it or not, the first presiden'ts first house was a rental, and ten months later, like any good New Yorker, Washington moved when he found a better deal -- a bigger place called Alexander Macomb House at 39-41 Broadway. But just a few short months later his gig took him to Philly. So these two NYC homes served as the first "White Houses" for a very short time.
Sadly both homes were demolished in 1856 and 1940, respectively. It's hard to believe that no one thought they were worth preserving -- certainly we wouldn't make that mistake today! But it's interesting to know that George Washington, the first American president, was an NYC renter like so many others.
It's hard to believe that it was only five years ago that COVID hit the world like a thunderclap. It shut down the globe for a year -- and, to a large extent, we're still recovering from it if also living in denial or trying to forget about how it destabilized us.
But did we learn anything? Are we better prepared if something like this happens again?
Sadly, the answer is no.
If you want to see a way that NYC has been failed by its current leadership, read this article. It outlines how, five years after COVID hit and a few years after the crises ended, there's been no attempt by the city -- or even the country -- to perform a comprehensive review of what happened. There's been no attempt to investigate and compile a narrative of the COVID timeline -- about what happened, what decisions were made (rightly or wrongly), what impact did it have on NYC, what lessons were learned, and how can we be better prepared next time?
None of this has happened! There's been no investigations, no "after-action" report.
And now, if the current insane people running the country, measles and other infectious diseases are headed our way -- and we're not ready!
Of all the things that drive me nuts about our society today, it's this almost pathalogical contempt for public health. This anti-vax, anti-educational movement that benefits no one and threatens everyone.
It's sick! It's insane! And I REALLY hope that this is a fad that ends.
I painted both of these more than 30 years ago when I was in high school.
As you can see, one of them is a placid lake scene (based on a special place I love) and the other is my Jackson Pollock/Basquiat-inspired color montage.
I know they're not great but they ain't that totally bad, aight?
A few years back I reviewed a batch of movies about New Yorkers who travel far from the city and get into all kinds of crazy adventures.
But perhaps the ultimate example of that is the show Tulsa King which I finally caught up on even though it's been streaming on Paramount Plus for a couple of years now.
It has a fun premise: a member of the NYC mafia, just out of 25 years in prison for not ratting out his bosses, is sent to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to establish an organized crime franchise. His job is to shake people down -- or "earn" -- and send his cut back to the bosses in NYC. But, as you might imagine, things get complicated when law enforcement, women, as well as other crime gangs that the mafia hadn't encountered on dealing with emerge -- as well as some unfinished from back home.
The mob guy is named Dwight Manfredi and he's played by a 75-year old Sylvester Stallone. I've never been a huge fan, his movies weren't exactly my thing, he's REALLY good in this -- you forget that behind the muscles and brawn is a hell of a good actor, and he owns the screen as a complex man trying to takeover this town's crime business while also becoming a better man. His pathos is deeply felt.
A great supporting cast, including the lovely Dana Delaney and other excellent actors, make this show a lot of fun. And you can tell that the writers are having a blast with the culture clash of tough NYC mobsters and Western crime gangs coming into conflict -- while the FBI is hot on their tails.
It's an entertaining, good time and I reccomend it.
If I had the cash and was going to build a palace, I'd build it in a great city by a river.
Imagine living in a huge home, gilt and elegance everywhere, and then looking out the window and seeing a brilliant cityscape, and then looking out another window and seeing a big placid stream of water.
How lovely, how ... rich.
This is not, no surprise, not an original idea to me. There have been several historic palaces built next to rivers but today, sadly, most of them are phantoms.
And here in NYC we also have phantom riverside palaces -- the lost mansions that used to exist on Riverside Drive in Manhattan.
But foist, to history!
In London, in the medieval era, there was a huge palace on the banks of the River Thames in London called the Savoy Palace. It was huge, gorgeous, and absolutely screamed of power and wealth. Unsurprisingly it was owned by the then-royal family, the Plantagenets. Its last resident was John of Gaunt, son of King Edward III, and an important political and military leader of his time -- a kind of guy-behind-the-guy, a Bismark or James Baker or Tywin Lannister kind of guy.
But tragedy befell the Savoy Palace in 1381 when, during the Peasants Revolt, it was burned down, totally destroyed (John of Gaunt had levied a very unpopular tax on the peasants and the peasants let him know what they thought of it). A smart politician, John didn't rebuild the palace -- instead, he made tax reforms and quelled the rebellion, restoring peace.
John of Gaunt was an important historic figure (see below), and he is also the grandfather of every British monarch since Henry IV. John and his longtime-mistress/last wife, the gorgeous and amazing Kathrine Swynford, had four kids. John of Gaunt's riverside palace may not have survived but his DNA sure does!
Moving down to Paris, on the right back of the River Seine, used to stand the Tuilleries Palace. It was one of many residences of the French Kings and it was actually the brainchild of the great Queen Catherine de Medici herself. The French Kings before the 1789 didn't actually live there much (they soon headed out to Versailles) but in the 19th century it was used by the short-lived monarchs Louise-Phillipe and Louise Napoleon.
But the Tuilleries Palace became another victim of mass fervor when, during the Paris Commune of 1871, it was destroyed, never to be rebuilt. Now it's a massive public park, the Tuilleries Garden, where families strolls and couples go to ... French.
Sidenote: a forgotten historical figure named Phillipp Prince of Saxe Coburg Gotha was born in the Tuilleries Palace in 1844. He was the brother-in-law and friend of the Austrian Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria who, along with a couple of others, discovered Rudolf and his dead mistress at Mayerling in 1889. Philipp is an intriguing, pivotal character in Episode 4 of Fall of Eagles -- see below; it's an amazing episode. (Phillipp also put his crazy cheating wife in an insane assylum and fought a duel with her lover that he lost. But anyway.)
Then there's the Yusupov Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia. Built by the insanely wealthy noble Yusupov family on the banks of the Moika River, it was as huge, as gorgeous, as jaw-droppingly splendid as any palace ever built anywhere. It was a (literally) shining example of Tsarist Russia -- the kind of place that represented everything that the Communists hated and wanted to destroy.
Amazingly, the Communists didn't destroy it after the 1917 Russian revolution. It was too big, too impressive, and too useful to destroy. Instead, the Yusopov family fled Russia and the Communists turned into a ministry. Now its a museum. But even though this riverside palace still exists, it's still a phantom -- no one lives there, its use abandoned, it's a curiosity of history and not a living part of it.
But what's most interesting about this palace is that while it's huge and gorgeous and an architectural marvel, its best known for something that happened in a basement room in the palace late at night on December 30, 1916. That's the night that Prince Felix Yusupov and his friends killed the mysterious and fake holy man/Tsarist whisperer and advisor Rasputin. They fed him poisoned cakes and wine and, when those failed to kill him, shot him. Rasputin managed to flee outside of the palace where Yusupov and his friends shot him again. Then they chained him up and drove him outside St. Petersburg where they dumped his body into another river. And while Yusopov and his friends thought killing Rasputin would save the Russian monarchy, it was in fact the moment when its doom was sealed.
Okay, so we've delved into history of the riverside palaces in London, Paris and St. Petersburg. Let's come home to NYC.
And here you can learn all about the huge, beautiful mansions -- some of them almost as big and gorgeous as palaces -- that were built in the 19th-century on Riverside Drive in Manhattan. Obviously no nobles or royals built or lived in them, but they were examples of the the Gilded Age, of New Money, of trying to show their European counterparts that they could build great homes as grand as anything in the Old World. And Riverside Drive, that great stretch of road by the watery Western frontier of NYC, seemed like the perfect place.
Sadly, most of these mansions on Riverside Drive are gone today. A couple still exist but, during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth century, their wealthy residents could no longer afford their upkeep and sold them to developers. The new owners proceeded to knock them down and build apartment buildings -- some quite splendid themselves but not quite as interesting as the mansions they replaced.
This documentary below about the lost mansions, the lost palaces, of Riverside Drive tells the story about ten of these long-gone gems.
And I have a personal interest in this -- one of the mansions mentioned in this documentary was replaced by the building that I myself grew up in myself and where my family still owns the apartment.
So yeah ... I kinda-sorta-but-not-really-but-want-to-believe that I grew up and lived for years in a kinda-sorta-palace on the riverside of a great city.
And that I have a some stuff in common with other previous residents of riverside mansions -- like intelligence and elegance -- except for like ...
John of Gaunt; I mean this guy had it all, money, power, a hot woman (and women), kids, bling -- I just wouldn't want to have my home burned down ...
... or Catherine de Medici but without all the killing ...
... or Prince Phillipp of Saxe Coburg Gotha but without putting my wife in a loonie bin or discovering my brother-in-law dead ...
... or Prince Felix Yusopov without killing a gross and weird holy man and then fleeing the country.
And if want to just enjoy the beauty and impressive current day architecture of Riverside Drive, I strongly suggest taking along this most amazing and unique of NYC thoroughfares.
The one and only time that I've been to Los Angeles was in late March 1995. My brother was living there and I visited him during my Spring break. I was there for a week and we drove north with a friend and visited San Francisco and then drove back along the Pacific Coast Highway, visiting San Simeon and gorgeous Central Valley places like Monterrey and Carmel.
I blogged about it extensively in 2018. And I concluded the post about how, just before I boarded my flight back home to NYC, I spoke to my dad by phone, informing me of my college acceptance.
Something I didn't mention, however, because it was totally irrelevant, was that my last full night in LA was the same night as the 67th annual Academy Awards. It was the same night that Forrest Gump swept the Oscars but also when Quentin Tarantino won Best Original Screenplay for Pulp Fiction.
So I was fascinated to stumble upon an article about the Oscar party held that night in LA by Harvey Weinstein and his company Miramax that had produced Pulp Fiction. Apparently, in a city and business known for wild parties, this was the wildest party in Oscar history. Many big stars at the time congregated, people got into fistfights, Harvey Weinstein threatened to go steal the Oscars from the Forrest Gump people -- and a wanted criminal crashed the party, apparently being persued by the cops while Hollywood partied.
It was, apparently, the last kind of wild, out-of-control Oscar party that Hollywood used to have. In the decades afterwards, the business and the parties became more sedate. And as you always see when you look at a moment frozen in time, some of the people at the party have continued to thrive -- like Leonardo DiCaprio, Jodie Foster, Samuel L Jackson -- while others -- like the host, Harvey Weinstein himself, and Kevin Spacey -- went into infamy ... and prison.
And to think that yours truly Mr NYC was in LA that night. Crazy. Only in the movies ...
P.S. This Oscars ceremony also had another NYC twist -- David Letterman was the host and he notoriously bombed. "Uma" ... "Oprah" ... "Uma" ... "Oprah."
