Claus von Bulow RIP (?)

The infamous Claus von Bulow has died -- the lifelong socialite hustler who married an extremely rich woman and was convicted and then acquited of trying to murder her.

This case was the big society scandal of the 1980s. Von Bulow was accused of trying to poison his wife with insulin which knocked her into a coma (she never actually died but spent decades in this coma). The fact that he was convicted before getting aquitted in a second trial, and the various confusing Rashomon-like nature of the case, fascinated and divided the public -- years before Lorena or OJ or Monica did. 

This case is also famous for what and who it spawned -- namely the 1990 movie Reversal of Fortune that garnered Jeremy Irons a Best Actor Oscar; von Bulow's defense lawyer Alan Dershowitz who got the man off the hook and became a celebrity out of this trial; and two of Dershowitz's Harvard Law School students who helped on von Bulow's defense -- Jim Cramer (yes, that guy!) and former Governor Eliot Spitzer (who himself became infamous).

Compared to later scandals, the von Bulow case was almost boring but it was a perfect example of how wealth, glamous, marriage and murder forever fascinate.

So long, Claus.

News Today, History Tomorrow -- May 31, 2019

Well, if today isn't a "hinge day" in NYC, I don't know what is! 

Today is the last day of radio station WPLJ before it becomes a "Christian music" station. At 7 PM, this legendary NYC rock station will be no more, a relic of another time and another city.

Today is also the first day of OMNY ("One Metro New York"), the new transit card the MTA is rolling out to replace the MetroCard by 2023. It'll start being used today on the 4, 5, 6 lines in Brooklyn and Manhattan, as well as all public buses in Staten Island. (This is what's called a "soft launch".) Unlike the current "swipe" of the MetroCard, all you'll have to do with the OMNY is "tap" (or scan it) it on an electronic reader, it will be a completely contact-less way to get onto public transportation. Soon the MetroCard will join the token as a relic -- instead, we'll OMNY our way around town.

So today, in a just a matter of hours, one part of the city's past is vanishing and another part of its future is arriving. 

Then there are a couple of issues that, if realized, will transform this city both socially and physically.

There's Hart Island -- the 150-year old pauper's cemetary off the coast of the Bronx that is closed to the public. The city council is now introducing a bill that will turn it into a public park (the  council speaker and mayor support it so it looks to be a done deal). Think of it -- not just another park or public space will be created but New Yorkers will have access to a whole new island, making this archipeligo of a town all the more ... archipeligo-ish. I once called Hart Island a "secret of NYC" but, if this bill passes and this island opens to the public, it will be a secret no more. 

And talking about taking something out of the dark into the light, one day soon New York might very well legalize prostitution -- otherwise known as "decrim." This is, as you might imagine, a divisive topic and many people have different ideas of what "decrim" should be. But the fact that this has a realistic chance of happening, that it's even being discussed, it transformative. Up until just a few years ago, the idea that something like this might happen seemed unimaginable -- like gay marriage or legal weed. Yet here were are. 

So while today might just seem like another day in NYC, it's not.

History is happening all around us!

"When They See Us" on Netflix

If you remember the spring of 1989 in NYC, you remember the Central Park jogger case -- a young white woman who was raped and beaten into a coma, and the young black men accused of this crime called a "wilding."

I remember the case well -- the feverish media coverage, the trolling racism masking itself as law and order-minded public outrage, and how these young men were proclaimed guilty even before trial, turned into animals and not human beings, and how public opinion and the courts of law drove them into prison and infamy.

One problem: it was all a lie. 

They were totally innocent -- in 2002 they were released after DNA testing and another prisoner's confession exonerated them. But then they faced another kind of prison -- difficulties readjusting to society and the city government, then led by Mayor Bloomberg, refusing a financial settlement with these men. That didn't happen until 2014 when Mayor De Blasio finally gave them some kind of justice.

The Central Park Jogger case is coming to Netflix tomorrow in a new miniseries called When They See Us. It's a story of this case and of NYC at a moment in time when it was still Fear City and not the Oz we live in today.

It's also an indictment of our culture -- of then and now -- and how failed reporting, corrupt law enforcement, pure racism, and public hysteria led to this tragedy. (It was also a tragedy for the victim, who didn't get proper justice).

We should all watch this and learn.

Bonnie is Funny

Several years ago I saw comedian Bonnie McFarlane and her husband Rich Vos at Stand Up NY. Personally, I'm not a big stand up comedy guy but they were funny and, I thought, quite adorable. I remember Bonnie talking about recently having a baby who is now, apparently, 11 years old.  

Time flies! 

Anyway, I enjoyed reading this big article about her life as a working mom and comedic groundbreaker. It makes you realize that being funny and being a parent is hard work -- and that lives in showbiz are anything but glamorous! 

Tornado Warning!!!

Classic Mr NYC

Two years ago I blogged about how diners are rapidly vanishing from the face of NYC. Color me prophetic -- The New York Times only now has written a big article about how diners in this town are, bit by bit, disapearing.

The reasons are obvious (rising rents along with risings costs of doing business) but sometimes it's the case that the land the diner is on is so valuable that the owners can't help but give into temptation and sell it to developers (gas stations in NYC are suffering this particlar fate). 

Diners or "greasy spooons" are bastions of middle class NYC -- thick menus, fast service, open for long hours (sometimes 24/7); you can get a burger and fries or a BLT or a club sandwhich along with a milkshake and bottomless cup o'Joe and still have some cash left over. In an era of fast food and chain restaurants, diners were holdouts for homespun afforadble grub.

In my 2017 post, I sang the praises of the Neptune Diner in Astoria, one of the best in the whole city. Well, the land its on has been sold, its lease is up in August, and it's probably that it'll cloes by the end of the year. This makes me particularly sad because I have lots of great personal memories of this place. If and when it goes, a little piece of my heart will go with it. 

Who was Barbara Rubin?

Read this blog long enough and you'll find several recurrent themes -- my love not only of NYC but of the city's "characters" (both real and fictional), of its funky and sexy "underworlds", of movies and the creative arts it inspires, of the city at night -- and of the Velvet Underground, the greatest band NYC ever produced.

I never get tired of these stories and it's one of the reasons I never get tired of NYC.

So I just love it when I learn about someone who embodied so much of what makes this town's spirit great.

Her name was Barbara Rubin -- and she was an experimental filmmaker, part of the Andy Warhol Factory Scene, and worked with the Velvet Underground in the Exploding Plastic Inevitable. Originally from Queens, she made a crazy short film in the early 1960s called Christmas on Earth, am explicit film projected onto two screens that was so raw, so ahead of its time, that it was actually suppressed for many years after that. (And she made this movie at age 18!). Rubin also staged exhibitions, acted in other experimental films, had an affair with Allen Ginsberg (who was otherwise gay) and eventually left NYC for France where she had five kids before dying at age 35 in 1980.

Like her most famous movie, Barbara Rubin led a short, wild, sexy, and memorable life -- a real NYC character, the kind of person who, even in death, makes this city great.

World's Fare 2019 @ Citi Field

We went to this over the weekend -- it was expensive but the food was so damn good! Go to it next year if you can!

Memo from NYC

Let's face it: these new highly restrictive abortion laws in Alabama, Missouri, and elsewhere are really based on one thing: hatred.

Hatred of women but also hatred of poor women and poor women of color. It's two-headed monsters of classcism and racism intertwined. 

This isn't about "protecting life" or "protecting the unborn" -- it's intentional cruelty and punishing women and their families. Forcing women to have children they don't want, then limiting all the social welfare programs these women need to help raise these kids, is a form of social control. How can you progress in your education, your career, your finances, your life, if you are burdened with responsibilities you don't want and can't handle? These laws are about shattering lives and families that are already troubled and broken, making it infinitely harder to advance their socioeconomic well-being.

Wealthy women, especially wealthy white ladies, will still get their abortions, they don't have to worry. They won't be burdened by these laws -- and they know it. That's why so many white female politicians support these evil laws -- they know it won't apply to them, white privilege at its most vile. 

So my message to the people in these states who support these awful laws: when you get angry and resentful that the rest of the country look on you as a bunch of uneducated, bigoted, slack jawed, repulsive racists and haters -- guess why? It's because of stuff like this! 

Here in NYC, we have strong abortion protections and good social services so that's just one reason, amongst so many others, that we should be grateful we live here.   

Run Sacklers Run!

Well, my previous post about how to live in disgrace in NYC seems to have been ahead of the curve!

Probably the most reviled family name in town right now that isn't Trump is Sackler -- the family that owns Perdue Pharma which produces OxyContin.

Oxy, as I'm sure you all know, is the #1 abused opiate (or is it opioid?) in the country, devastating families and whole regions of the country. People misuse their prescriptions or get the drugs illegally and get hooked real fast. It's become an epidemic, much like crack was 25 years ago, with lots of people dying very suddenly. It's a made in America, corporate-made horror show.  

Let me tell you, oxy is some seroius stuff: I had a minor operation a few years ago and, in the recovery room, took an Oxy the nurses gave me -- wow, it's like being drunk without any of the nausea or heaviness or exhaustion, it feels really, really, really good. Having heard the horror stories, and since I wasn't in much post-op pain, I didn't take any of the oxy prescribed by my doctor because I was scared I might get hooked. It was certainly the right decision. 

Anyway, the Sacklers not only produced this dangerous drug but have, for years, secretly encouraged its over-perscription and abuse. Needless to say, its made them billionaires many times over. For years, the anger over the Oxy crises was directed at Perdue Pharma, not the Sacklers themselves -- but that's changing. Now the family is facing more and more scrutiny -- so some of them are getting out of town, moving to -- where else? -- Florida.

I guess if you can't take living in disgrace in the NYC kitchen, you get out and go to Palm Beach. 

Unlike the gross Trumps, the Sacklers were highly respected patrons of the arts and philanthropy. They endowed museums, including the Sackler Wing at the Met. They are uber cultured, uber sophisticated, and, until now, uber respected society figures -- and it was all based on human misery.

An old, old story remade for the 21st century.

Crazy S*%t!

So let's say you're dating some dame -- and she's hot.

Then let's say one day she asks you, "Hey, can you set me up with a hit man to kill my ex-husband, and your daughter?" Oh, and she's also a New York City police officer!

Yeah, that's some crazy s@#t right there!

Believe it or not, this really happened - a female cop asked her boyfriend to do this and he set her up with the FBI and now she's busted. Apparently, before all this, she'd been married twice, been put on reduced duty, and both her husbands had restraining orders on her. And yet she remained on the force! 

She's some wild broad. I'm sure she'll have LOTS of fun in prison! NY Finest ...

By the way, if some hot woman I was dating asked me to be an accomplice in a crime, especially one against my own kid, I'd have to seriously re-evaluate the relationship. I mean, I know hot chicks can get away with a lot of stuff but asking a guy to get into murder, especially against his children, is just asking too much.

P.S. I'm only joking about this because, mercifully, no one got hurt and this nut is in jail. But, lordy, what kind of people are becoming NYPD officers these days?

Woody Allen's "A Rainy Day in New York" Trailer

Finally!

Woody Allen's latest movie A Rainy Day in New York has not yet been released. Long story short: Woody made this movie for Amazon 2017, it was due to be released in 2018 but Amazon broke its contract with Woody because of old and discredited abuse allegations. Now it's not being released in the US at all -- but it will be released in Europe and other parts of the world later this year.

So, for now, we won't able to see a film by a great American director -- in America! -- and only have this trailer to go on. Insane! 

Memo to Amazon: please come to your senses and release this movie or put it on the streaming service soon. Heck, I don't know if the movie's good or not but that's not the point -- please don't let that professional creepy scold Ronan Farrow and his messed up family prevent the rest of us enjoying one of our greatest filmmaker's late career work.

Censorship is wrong! Let the art speak for itself! Release the movie! Now!

To Live in Disgrace in NYC

Public shaming has become, forgive the intellectual laziness, "a thing" these days. From misconduct allegations, to stupid social media posts, to getting arrested and sometimes even convicted of crimes -- whatever the offence or affront, either civil or criminal or purely social or otherwise -- more people than ever seem to have become pariahs, outcasts, socially toxic.

People who were once famous, beloved, and powerful -- Bill Cosby, Matt Lauer, Kevin Spacey, Charlie Rose, Harvey Weinstein, and others -- are now either unemployed or awaiting trial or already in jail or being sued or just ... cast out, totally banished from public life. Not only did these fallen people once have big careers that made them famous, rich, or just respected, but they were members of "polite society" and lived busy lives of glamour -- parties, premieres, award shows, galas, fundraisers, openings, talk shows, panel appearances, festivals, conferences, you name it -- the full smorgasbord of a successful life. The beautiful, the powerful, the rich, the famous, or just the merely popular and successful live non-stop on this circuit, this merry-go-round hamster wheel of events that prove and consolidate their vaunted status.

And when they fall from grace, for whatever reason, not only do they lose their jobs and sometimes face legal problems but the glamour evaporates. No more invitations. No more events. They fall off the hamster wheel, the circuit of a successful life shorts-out.

That has to be the worst thing of all. Not only losing your job, not only enduring great humiliation, not only living in legal jeopardy, but having all this excitement, all this stuff that kept your life busy and fun, just go ... poof. One can only imagine the emptiness, the loneliness, the boredom, the long days and nights at home, having nothing to do, nowhere to go, suddenly burdened with tons of unwanted time that you now have to fill yourself. The whole structure of your life is gone and there's nothing to look forward to. The volume of your life goes from loud to mute. You're in your own kind of dystopia, a unique and personal hell.

However, there's one place that pariahs can go -- or at least try to: restaurants. If you can get a reservation (presumably not under your name), or just walk in, even the most socially toxic people can eat out. After all, restaurants are businesses and need to make money and they'll serve and take the money of anyone so long as they don't think it'll cost them other customers (boycotts are, sadly, another "thing").

This article is an interesting look at how pariahs are sometimes seen in upscale NYC restaurants and how they are sometimes gawked at or ignored but are sometimes welcomed. The prime example: Michael Cohen, the disgraced former lawyer for Donald Trump. He may be a confessed liar, turncoat, and criminal but, at his preferred dining spots, he's still quite welcomed.

On a personal level, when I read about these fallen people, these once high flying people, now socially toxic pariahs, I have mixed feelings. If they did something really bad, if they damaged people's lives and careers, then social ostracism is probably the least punishment they deserve. But I also hate to see anyone lose everything, I hate to see anyone crash hard. Unlike a lot of people, I don't suffer from schadenfreude, I don't like seeing people suffer -- except for maybe Donald Trump and everyone around him.

I guess what I find interesting about people who are social pariahs is that I can, in some way, relate. Now, don't get me wrong, I've never been publically shamed or accused of anything nasty (Mr NYC is a very square dude). I've never been "disgraced" in the way so many have been lately -- but I've been never successful or popular in any way whatsoever (heck, I can't even get my friends or family to read this blog!). I've never been a high-flyer and lived on the circuit of success. In a way, I guess I've always been what one might consider a "natural disgrace" -- so how could I become a disgrace?  

You know how there are some people who're successful enough that you and everyone is envious or who are just so attractive and charismatic that people are naturally drawn to them? Yeah ... I'm the opposite of that!

I'm almost never invited anywhere or to any event, there's so social circuit hamster wheel in my life. On the rare occasions I do get invited somewhere, I'm overly flattered by it and it feels quite odd and unnatural, like something's wrong.

If I ever do become an official pariah (not that I want to!), I'd probably handle it quite well. Heck, I'm practically already one! So if you need any advice on how to negotiate life as a loser ... I'm your man!

From the Bronx to Jupiter: Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey"

"I'm sorry ... Dave" but I'm having a Stanley Kubrick moment.

Lately Dr. Strangelove has been on TCM. I hadn't seen it in a while but, as always, it's the funniest movie ever made about the end of the world and one of my favorites.  

Also, this past March was the 20th anniversary of the great Bronx-born director's death, just months before the release of his last movie, the bizarre (and NYC-based) Eyes Wide Shut. 

But Kubrick's masterpiece of masterpieces is 2001: A Space Odyssey which came out in 1968 and changed science-fiction and movies forever. It was, to put it mildly, daring -- little dialogue, little character development, almost pure visual storytelling, a plot that slowly, slowly reveals itself about a mission to Jupiter gone wrong, a story where the villain (HAL) is a computer and not a person, and an ending that can only be described as inscrutable. It's a movie that frustrating to watch the first time you see it but, like all great movies, it gets better and better with repeat viewings. 

So how did 2001 come to be? How did this poor kid from the Bronx wind up making an American classic that inspired the world?

You MUST listen to this episode of Studio 360 about the history of 2001 and Kubrick's back story that led him to make it. It's an amazing only-in-NYC story, of how a kid dreamed big -- universally big! -- and changed the world.

Also, please read my 2008 interview with Kurt Anderson, the host of Studio 360. He's fascinating too!

De Blasio Runs for President

Not going to blog about this here, check out the Mr NYC Twitter page for my deep, incredibly brilliant thoughts about this.

The TWA Hotel Lands at JFK

The 1950s and '60s are romanticized as the Mad Men era -- the "great America" that so many people want to somehow, spiritually and socio-economically return to; a time when people knew their place i.e. white men in power, blacks at the back of the bus, gays in the closet, and women either in the kitchen or only working as secretaries, nurses, and teachers.

'Dose were da' days!

It was a time when it was great to be a "mad man" -- oh yes, you could have three martini lunches, smoke everywhere, and bang your secretaries with abandon (no annoying sexual harassment laws or HR rules or hashtags to kill the fun).

It was white male nirvana.

Then there was the architecture. Lots of gorgeous but decaying buildings were being torn down at this time and replaced by boring Bauhaus inspired-monstrosities. Function, not beauty, dictated architectural style. And brand new diners (remember those?) and airport terminals were opening and they looked weird -- lots of curves and arched ceilings and warped roofs -- like spaceships out of Forbidden Planet.

One such prime NYC example was the TWA Terminal at JFK airport that opened in 1962.

It was a huge, hulking sweep of curves and open spaces, blindingly white, and it feels very 1960s post-modernesque. It was a functioning terminal for decades until TWA went out of business and the terminal closed in the early 2000s. It sat empty, ready to be bulldozed, until some developers bought and decided to turn it into a hotel.

And now the hottest new hotel in town is far from midtown Manhattan -- it's in southeast Queens!

Today the new TWA Hotel opens to much fanfare. It's obviously a massive, expensive undertaking ($300+ million) with a myriad of rooms starting at $250 a night. There are expensive restaurant (Jean-Georges has one there) plus luxury retail stores, and a 150 person bar inside an airplane tethered to the hotel. Everything is luxury and luxuriously kitschy -- taking something that was once plebian and turning it into something grand. Apparently the owners of this new hotel have huge ambitions for it, they think it'll have nonstop full capacity, and that travellers to and from JFK will want to pony up that much money to spend the night before either flying out or after having landed. 

Either the new TWA hotel will be a huge success or a colossal failure. I'll be watching its fate with keen interest.

Sidenote: I almost exclusively flew on TWA to and from college back in the 1990s. As I mentioned yesterday, I just passed the 20th anniversary of my college graduation so this nostalgia-themed hotel opening today is somehow -- le sigh -- appropriate.

It's just reminder that the present becomes the past quickly, today's ordinary stuff becomes tomorrow's cherished relics, today's noise becomes tomorrow's history, today's frustrations becomes tomorrow's nostalgia.

It was ever thus and forever shall be. 

Hinge Day

Today is a weird kind of day, a "hinge" day, a day where the past and present touch for a moment before going their separate ways.

Today Anthony Weiner is a free man, a dark chapter in his life over. Hopefully he will have a better future ahead of him.

It's also the day where the police -- FINALLY! -- determined that the cop who killed Eric Garner back in 2014 actually -- maybe, kinda, sorta, really -- killed him. Took long enough! Hopefully this police officer and Eric Garner's family will get the justice they deserve. 

And today is the day where Howard Stern's new book finally publishes, his first in almost 25 years! In the book, and this interview, he talks about his relationship with Trump (who used to appear on his show a lot) and how Howard, regrettably and certainly inadvertently, might have helped him become president. The book is called Howard Stern Comes Again -- so, today, officially, he will be coming all over the book stores and e-readers and best seller lists, we'll be drowning in Howard Stern's ... book.  

For me, personally, this is another kind of hinge day -- it's exactly 20 years to the day since I graduated from college. On Thursday it'll be officially 20 years since I moved back to NYC. It's hard to believe that it's been that long -- time gallops ahead, leaving many such hinge days behind us.

Howard Stern For Governor -- No, Forever!

Howard Stern is promoting his new book and, for the first time in years, he is out and about doing lots of interviews. (My wife has promised me a new Kindle with this book loaded on it for Father's Day.)

The recurring theme of these interviews, and apparent raison d'etre for his new book, is how the once raunchy and outrageous 1980s & 1990s radio DJ became a major 21st century media icon. It's about how Howard as "evolved" from "bad boy shock jock" to "thought-provoking" interviewer and cultural pulse-taker. 

As someone who has listened to Howard for almost 30 years, I can attest first-hand that this change in the man and his show are very real. In some ways they're both better than ever -- Howard seems like a much kinder, much more empathetic guy; the interviews are simply better than anything you'll hear anywhere else. But I also miss the old Howard -- the take-no-prisoners style and the (admittedly dated and "un-woke") craziness of having women come into the studio to have bologna and bread tossed at their smeared-with-mayonnaise posteriors, plus strippers and porn stars coming in to undress, get spanked, and operate various mechanical devices on their Devil bits. 

Oh, those were the days!

Back when I started listening to him, Howard loved to do stunts like the Open Sores tennis match in Flushing, his various "funerals" for DJs in other markets that he overtook in the ratings, the massive book signings he had for his first two books, and lots more. 

But nothing topped what he did in 1994 when he actually ran for New York State governor against then-Governor Mario Cuomo (the current gub's dad). Howard even secured the nomination of the Libertarian Party and had an agenda -- get highway work to be performed in night so he didn't have to sit in traffic, restore the death penalty (and fill pot holls on the highways with the chary remains of the executed), and then resign so his Lieutenant Governor, a real politician, could take over. Howard rose rapidly in the polls but then bailed on the campaign when the very real possibility that he might win materialized (he claimed that he didn't want to reveal his finances, a rather thin but good excuse to get out).

The "Howard Stern for Governor" stunt was short-lived and ridiculous but, at the time, it accomplished the task of getting him tons of attention. It even got his parodied brilliantly on Saturday Night Live -- 25 years ago this week! -- at a time when the show was otherwise awful. And it spawned a song called "Howard Stern for Governor" that was dopey and heartfelt. 

It's hard to believe that this happened more than a quarter of a century ago -- and, as we see, something much more awful and outrageous than Governor Howard Stern is happening now.

The big difference between Howard and other outrageous media personalities is that he understood that his shtick was always an act and not something to be truly acted upon -- unlike other DJs who performed truly dangerous and illegal stunts that got them fired or charged with crimes, or others who actually got elected to office on even more ridiculous and hateful agendas. That's why, after so many decades, Howard is still around and more respected than ever while other media figures of his ilk have either flamed out or became truly hated. 

Twenty-five years ago we said Howard Stern for Governor. Today we say Howard Stern Forever!

When Will a Woman Run NYC?

New York City has, in its almost 400 year history, never been run by a woman. No woman has ever ascended to the office of the mayor.

In a way, for a city as progressive and bursting with opportunity as NYC, this is a bit of an embarrassment. Many states, including some very conservative ones, have had female governors. Other big cities like Dallas and, as of this year, Chicago, have had female mayors. But not NYC.  

Women have done well in other high NYC offices. We've had a female comptroller (Elizabeth Holtzman), two female public advocates (Betsy Gotbaum and Tish James), two female speakers (Chris Quinn and Melissa Mark-Viverito), and, when the office still existed, a female City Council President (Carol Bellamy). There have also been several female borough presidents. 

And yet the top prize has proved elusive to many of them (and other women) when they ran for it.

Only two women, in fact, have ever made it to the general election ballot: Democrat Ruth Messinger in 1997 and Republican Nicole Malliotakis in 2017 (I'm not counting any candidates who ran third-party and never had a serious chance of getting elected). They both lost, badly, because they were running against popular incumbents up for re-election so their defeats had more to do with the political environments than anything else. Others, like Chris Quinn, simply were at odds with the primary electorate. No candidate has ever lost, from what I can tell, due to outright sexism -- like most candidates who lose (and most people who run for office, certainly mayor, lose) the odds were just against them.

This article attempts to do a deep dive into understanding why no woman has been elected mayor. Most of it is nonsense but it does make the case, as I've made before, that the city's insular political culture also plays a part. But in 2021, we may have a woman mayor, although, as of now, no one knows who that might be.

Stay tuned.  

Richard Brown and Weed

This past Saturday two things happened in NYC that are both completely unrelated and totally inextricable -- the death of longtime Queens DA Richard Brown and a big parade in support of marijuana legalization. 

Richard Brown was the last of the old-school NYC District Attorneys -- a "tough-on-crime", "law-and-order", "lock 'em-up-and-throw-away-the-keys" type. He became Queens DA in a time of high crime and the drug war, when a DA couldn't be tough enough on crime. Brown loved locking people up, he wanted to put as many people in jail as possible. He carried this kind of prosecutorial policy well into the 21st century, into the era of low crime and a re-thinking of the drug war and how the criminal justice system should operate. His successor will be elected this year (the primary is in June) and whoever succeeds him will probably have more evolved, more rehabilitation type policies.

Needless to say, DAs like Brown hated, hated, hated any kind of drug, even da' reefer. And the drive to legalize marijuana in New York is exactly the kind of thing that stands in diametric opposition to what he believed and how he worked. Hopefully, at some point, the legislature will get it together and actually pass a legal weed bill (considering that so many other states have already done this). But legal weed is coming whether we (or folks like Brown) like it or not.

It's just another reminder that NYC is forever at a crossroads.

The Met Gets Campy

Tonight is the big annual Met Gala, where celebrities and all the glamorous beautiful people converge to celebrate how famous and glamorous and beautiful they all are. In actuality it's a big fundraiser as well as a celebration of the museum's next big fashion show.

This year, the theme for the gala and the new exhibition is "camp" (the famous phrase coined by Susan Sontag in her legendary 1964 essay Notes on Camp), culture that revels in the love of the artificial, the tacky, the sleazy, the intentionally bad and offensive, the kitchy, the dumb. Sontag writes about how, in camp, "everything is in quotation marks."

For example: John Waters movies are homosexual camp. Russ Meyers movies are straight camp.  Michael Moore is liberal camp. Sarah Palin is conservative camp.

You get the idea. 

This Met Gala has to be the first big fashion event based on an intellectual essay. In many ways, it's appropriate that stuff that is or was once upon a time considered low art and sleazy is now being celebrated in the most prestigious and glittering museum in the world. 

I feel bad that Susan Sontag won't be able to attend the gala -- she's been dead since 2004 -- although some are saying she'd hate it. This "campy" gala and exhibit are, in many ways, a prime example of cultural appropriation, where the rich and famous and powerful adapt and glamorize and, in some ways, condescend to and patronize, the auspices of the poor (like old school European peasant food being fancied up and served in expensive restaurants) But what a tribute and honor this is to her legacy! 

By the way, if the Met ever wants to appropriate anything from this blog and make a gala out of it, please, be my guest! Just do it in my lifetime so I can attend! 

Wacky Woodstock

This summer marks the 50th anniversary of Woodstock, the legendary three days of "peace and love" music festival held up in Bethel, NY in August, 1969. It featured performances from (amongst many others) the likes of Arlo Guthrie, Joan Baez, Country Joe and the Fish, The Who, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Santana, The Band, Crosby Stills Nash & Young -- even Sha Na Na! -- and closing out with Jimmy Hendrix's classic version of the national anthem.

Woodstock defined a generation and has captured the popular imagination ever since. It defined the anti-war, pro-diversity counter-culture that "square" America has been fighting ever since.

Since that event 50 years ago, there have been two sequels to Woodstock -- first in 1994 for the 25th anniversary, and then in 1999 for the 30th. The 1994 event didn't generate a lot of excitement and the 1999 one was a legendary disaster resulting in rioting and rapes and chaos. It was, in many respect, a fitting end to the 20th century and a harbinger of the dark 21st century to come. 

Now, 20 years later, there were plans for Woodstock 50 this August but, in the last couple of days, it's all fallen apart. Financiers are dropping out, artists are pulling out, and there's a big "Will it or Won't It Happen" question mark over the whole thing. The event planners are desperately trying to salvage the festival but it seems like it might be for nought, the event doomed.

Sad! But it seems, in a way, fitting for this age of disruption, instability, venality, and short-term thinking. The fact that, despite having literally YEARS to put this together, Woodstock 50 is on a knife's edge feels somehow, in the bizarre times we're living in, almost ... appropriate.

Personally, I'm agnostic about Woodstock 50. I hate seeing any big endeavor fail, I love comeback stories, so I hope that they might get this saved.

At the same time, trying to recreate something that was so special, so unique, so of its moment, is also kind of sad. Woodstock in 1969 was something the whole country needed, whether they liked it or not.  In 2019? It feels forced, and the only people who need it are the ones making money.

It'll be interesting to see how this whole thing -- wait for it -- "plays" out.  

"Knock Down the House" - The Rise of AOC (And Others) on Netflix

Garry Winograd - NYC Street Photographer - American Masters

Recording NYC

The New York Times likes to call itself "the paper of record" but this city does a good job of recording itself -- day-by-day, moment-by-moment.

To whit: 

Did you know that NYC puts out its own daily newspaper? I had no idea! Admit it, you didn't either!

And yet since 1873, for almost 150 years, "The City Record - Official Journal of the City of New York" has been published every day detailing the city's business. It's used by government officials and contractors and anyone involved with the city's business to get thumbnail info of what the city government is actually doing. It records what the city is buying and selling, who got this or that contract, agency and department budgets, election results, tax rates, property condemnations, newly issued policies, etc. -- the minutia that rules NYC and its 8.6 million residents. It's a treasure trove for NYC junkies and not only records what the city is doing but is living history, an ongoing record of this town.

Then you have something that records even more.

Welcome to the Domain Awareness System. This is a platform that aggregates the city's CCTV cameras and the feeds of private security cameras that basically records every second of every part of this city. You can't move around anywhere in NYC without your movements being recorded. NYC is, sadly but (I guess) necessarily, a surveillance state. 

In 21st Century NYC, it's hard to keep secrets, there's a record of everything.

Of course, there are still some secrets in NYC -- I guess, as of now, the government hasn't mounted cameras in people's homes. 

But secrets endure. Did you know there used to be an old luxury train car from Europe that was then turned into a cafe inside Bloomingdales for years and years? It was a secret cafe of sorts, visitors to Bloomies had to suss it out. It's gone now so it's even more of a secret. At least there's a record of its bizarre and amazing history.