Fifteen Years of Mr NYC

Well, I'm a tad late getting around to this but, egads, not only is Mr NYC a teenager (and been one for two years now) but now this blog has now turned fifteen years old -- that's half-way to an even twenty (technically a generation), a decade shy of a quarter century, and half-way to thirty -- a full Back to the Future trip. 

As my daughter would, that's "cray-cray." 

Also, clearly, 15 is evenly divisible by 5, and five-year anniversaries is when I've typically done "birthday" blog posts -- so go here to read the first ever post in 2007, the five-year anniversary post in 2012, and the ten-year anniversary post in 2017. 

Fuck I'm old! 

Next year will be another big anniversary when Mr NYC will reaches the age of consent! 

The Long March of Eddie Gibbs

Here's an interesting article on a brand-new Assemblyman named Eddie Gibbs who is the first formerly incarcerated person (i.e. convicted felon) elected to the state legislature from Harlem.

It's been decades since his time in prison and his life since then has been a textbook case of redemption and what someone can do with life if given a second chance. Needless to say he has strong opinions on criminal justice reform and sentencing laws but his positions aren't exactly what you might think.

It's an interesting look at someone who has experienced the law from both sides -- and a voice in our politics and our state that has never been heard in policy-making before. 

That Time Woody Allen Testified Before Congress

Woody Allen has never been a political filmmaker -- he has said that politics doesn't interest him so much as exploring how life is tragic, meaningless, and absurd. His best films look at life and love and, instead of reveling in the glories of them, concludes that love leads to sadness and life leads to nothingness.

Woody's greatest film, Crimes & Misdemeanors, basically says that God doesn't exist and there is no justice in the world. (So there.) He posits that only by trying to find some joy in one's daily existence can life be made bearable -- and this philosophy of life is expoused in the film by a character who commits suicide.  (So there, again.)

But on May 12, 1987, Woody did something highly unexpected and, in a way, political -- he testified before Congress with his fellow Oscar-winning colleagues Milos Forman and Sydney Pollack in support of legislation that would prevent film companies (mainly run by Ted Turner) from colorizing movies. Colorization of old black and white movies was a fad back then, and purists like Woody and others were vocally against it. They won -- colorization withered away along with Betamax.

So here is America's least political filmmaker speaking strongly in favor of the rights of artists. It's fascinating to watch. 

Interestingly enough, a few years later, Woody and Sydney Pollack would work together on the movie Husbands and Wives. 

Jazz Lives in NYC!

If you love jazz, and you love NYC, and you love to listen to jazz in NYC, then you're in luck!

You can go to Jazz at Lincoln Center!

You can find a whole variety of jazz clubs and other spaces where jazz performances ocurr regularly!

And you can even find it on the radio -- yes, NYC has its own jazz station, WBG0 88.3 FM (it's actually located in Newark, NJ but that's ok, the five boroughs doesn't mind)!

Jazz lives in NYC! Spread the word! 

21 Most Magnificent Mansions in New York City

 

March, 1972 in NYC: "The Godfather" and the Godfather of Soul

How's this for two days in NYC history fifty-years ago this week:

March 15, 1972: The Godfather, one of the very greatest movies ever made, opened in NYC. It went on to become the highest grossing movie ever made (displacing the Gone with the Wind's 33-year run until it was displaced by Jaws in 1975), winning the Oscar for Best Picture, and defining American cinema and the darkness of the American dream forever after. Yeah, kinda important.

March 16, 1972: the very next day the Godfather of Soul, James Brown himself, went to Riker's Island and performed two shows for the inmates there. You can read the full story of how and why this happened here. It was a glittering, uplifting moment in time in an otherwise sad and difficult place -- a reminder that great culture can and should exist anywhere and for anyone.

Monastery NYC

Sometimes life gets so busy, so overwhelming, so exhausting, so full of dealing with the people and problems and various and sundry challenges of the modern world, that I get a sudden urge to chuck it all and seek refuge in a monastery. 

The idea of a simple life, a quiet life, a life devoted to calm and devotion, sounds so tempting, so peaceful, that I swear to myself that, perhaps one day, I'll vanish into a monastery, leaving the sinful, greedy Babylon behind. 

But then I wonder if I'd get Wi-Fi and Coca-Cola inside the monastery and realize this will never happen.

Also, the monastic life is not easy. It's not a full-time "chillax" situation, not any kind of vacation -- far from it. It's a vigorous, rigorous, total life. You wake up very early and pray, eat and pray, work around the monastery and pray, eat and pray again, take some recreation time and then pray some more, eat again and pray again, then go to sleep early and do it all over again, praying all the way. There are rules, strict rules, that you must follow, and you are expected to relinquish your ties and possessions from the outside world (almost) completely. It's almost like a cult but, apparently, you can leave anytime and, in fact, aren't expected to stay forever.

And it's not easy even getting into a monastery in the first place -- apparently they reject many applicants and, needless to say, you are expected to be a strict adherent to the monastery's relgion -- most usually the Christian Orthodox, Buddist, Hindu, or Catholic faiths. Monasteries are not places for religious looky-loos or temporary refugees from modernity -- they are homes for the hardcore faithful, not retreats.

I wasn't able to get a lot of information about working monasteries in NYC but most of them seems to be in the Bronx, Brooklyn and Queens. You can find a list of them here. Most of them are in beautiful verdant campuses with gorgeous architecture. Like everything in NYC, monasteries are all about the real estate. 

The Mayor Adams Style

Eric Adams has been Mayor of NYC for almost three months now and it's been ... interesting.

He's made it very clear that he wants to be tough on crime which, for a mayor, is de rigueur. He's targeting bail reform and bringing back the "anti-crime" unit for the NYPD (which I don't entirely understand since I thought the police's whole job was anti-crime but nevermind). He's also issued some business-friendly executive orders, encouraged remote workers to return to their offices, and is advocating for the state legislature to extend mayoral control of the public schools through 2026 (i.e. the remainder of his term and then some). Otherwise, policy-wise, he hasn't done much -- no big intiatives, no clear vision for the city -- but it's early days yet.

However, when it comes to style, he's done a lot. 

Adams talks a lot about bringing back "swagger" to the city, and loves to swagger himself. He goes to nightclubs, pops up all over city at any given hour, performs vegan-friendly cooking demonstrations, posts pictures on social media of him on his exercise bike while he holds online meetings, and he talks about sheep for some reason a lot. He clearly revels in being the town's #1 guy. This is probably what accounts for his (for now) high approval rating of 61%.

Adams' approval rating is all the more remarkable for the number of odd and, one would think, politically harmful unforced errors he's made -- appointing his brother and unapologetic homophobes to his administration, insulting low-skilled workers, and lying about being a vegan while eating fish. One might think that this kind of insensitivity, dishonesty, and tunnel-vision might harm a mayor's approval ratings but this is clearly not the case. (In case you haven't been paying attention, we are living in the era of shame-free politics). 

I think the reason all of this nonsense hasn't hurt Adams (so far) is that he loves being mayor -- that's very clear. New Yorkers generally like a mayor who enjoys leading the city, at least the mascot aspect of the job. Koch, Giuliani, and Bloomberg, all in their different ways, loved being mayor as well, and it showed -- no matter how divisive, controversial, or elitist they were. And New Yorkers, at the time, gave them a thumbs up for it. Adams has clearly learned this lesson from his predecessors but his love for the job is also obviously genuine.

But what's depressing about this is that it proves that styles matters over substance -- in politics and as in so much of life. For example, Mayor De Blasio had many accomplishments with extending sick leave, universal pre-K, expanding ferry service, more affordable housing, and keeping crime low. He also handled COVID well (not perfectly but then who did?). Not to mention that, during his tenure, the city's population absolutely exploded. De Blasio was re-elected in a landslide so his efforts weren't entirely unappreciated, but he became hated, especially by the press, because he didn't seem to love the job or the people and the city he governed. (Did he really have to openly root for the Boston Red Sox?) De Blasio did the job, and did it well -- that's the most important thing after all -- but his mayoralty had no style, no "swagger", he didn't seem care at all about being the city's #1 person, and it eventually generated public derision. (Especially his also arriving late for events.)

You gotta sell 'em the sizzle more than the steak.

This extensive profile on Mayor Adams and his early days as mayor looks at the man and his mayoral style -- but it also shows so much how image, how flash, how interesting quotes (like this really weird sheep obsession he has), and most of all how a combination of political shamelessness and policy vagueness overrides actually delivering good policies. The press is responsible for much of this -- they care more about the personality of politicians and their various conflicts instead of their policies and the impacts they have on people's lives. Adams and politicians like him play along because they understand the rules of the game. It's not enough for a politician to say "Here's my record, it's helped a lot of people, please like me for it" --  no, they need to feed the media beast with good optics and quotes and an appearance of non-stop energy. The public can understand the flashy side to politicians since the policy part is, ya know, boring. 

Style over substance is the Mayor Adams style -- perhaps that will change, perhaps his popularity won't last, perhaps more substance will be forthcoming -- but it's a telling sign of the NYC and American political culture that playing a politician is more important than actually delivering beneficial policies. 

The NYC Underground

Read more about the NYC underground, underworld, underwelt here. 

Review: "Donnie Brasco" & "The Devil's Advocate" (1997)

Read this blog long enough and you'll know that I'm a massive fan of Al Pacino, perhaps America cinema's greatest actor ever. He has given more brilliant performances on stage and screen than anyone can remember. In many ways, all actors live under his shadow, he has defined acting for his and all subsequent generations. This year marks the 50th anniversary of the movie that made Pacino a star, The Godfather, and the great thespian is still working, most recently in House of Gucci.

Godfather is the hallmark of early-era Pacino, Gucci being late-era Pacino. So that's why it's interesting to revisit two NYC-centric movies that Al Pacino made in 1997 -- Donnie Brasco and The Devil's Advocate -- that mark mid-era Pacino. 

Both movies are good -- not great -- but both show the huge range of the Bronx born actor.

In Donnie Brasco, Pacino plays Lefty, an aging, low-level NYC mafiso. He is befriended by a jewel thief named Donnie Brasco who, we learn very quickly, is actually an undercover FBI agent named Joe (played by Johnny Depp). Lefty takes Donnie under his wing, teaching him the ways of the mob and giving him lots of advice ("One broad, that's enough"). They try to get a club going in Florida -- yeah, that doesn't work out -- and they become part of a larger power struggle within the mob. These are guys who actually watched The Godfather but it couldn't be farther from their lives. How this ends, you can imagine -- but the bond between Lefty and Donnie is beautiful and tragic to watch.

Unlike many of his performances from this era, Pacino is very understated in this movie. He's mostly quiet except for when he feels offended. Lefty is a sad figure -- after 30 years in the mob, he has little in ways of power or money to show for it. He's scrapping by, still trying to prove himself. What makes Donnie Brasco so unlike most mob movies or TV shows (like Goodfellas, The Sopranos, even The Godfather movies), is that it makes life in the mob seem truly dreary and pressure-filled. Lefty and many of his cohorts aren't rich, they aren't dripping in bling or living in big houses or driving fancy cars, and, as indicated, not a lot of broads. They also spend all their time following orders and doing grunt work. It's a hand-to-mouth existence, and Pacino's deeply sensitive performance makes your heart ache for a man who has wasted his life for nothing -- although, as we realize, he probably didn't have anything else going for him either. This movie, and Pacino's performance, gets under your skin with its sad comment on humanity -- and it's also a master at the top his craft.

Then there's The Devil's Advocate. Long story short, it's a movie about how New York City is Hell and Al Pacino (playing a lawyer) is the Devil. A young hot-shot criminal lawyer from Florida named Kevin Lomax (Keanu Reeves playing smart for once) is tempted to NYC by Pacino's superlawyer John Milton (Get it? Paradise Lost!) to represent Milton's megafirm clients who get into criminal trouble. Milton assigns Kevin to a murder case involving a billionaire real-estate magnet (there's even a scene that was shot in Donald Trump's apartment before we fully realized that he was actually the Devil), and it sends Kevin down into a personal and moral tailspin that involves his shallow but vulnerable wife (played by a wonderful Charlize Theron in one of her first big movies). It climaxes with fire and brimstone Devil Al Pacino yelling -- A LOT -- especially about why God's prick ("He's a tight ass! ... Worship that? NEVAH'!"), and has a very suprising ending.

No critic will ever call this Pacino's best performance but, along with Big Boy Caprice in Dick Tracy, it's one of his most fun. Pacino is all id, all wildness, all attitude in this movie precisely because his character (El Diablo himself) is nothing but that. Pacino's greatest skill as an actor comes from the great depth of human feeling that he imbues his characters with -- here, because his character is the very anti-thesis of humanity, he make you sympathize, make you like, makes you want to keep hanging with the greatest evil ever. If the Devil existed, and he really was Al Pacino, doubtless we'd all become Satinists.

So I highly recommend these two mid-era Pacinos movie that show the immense range of his talent -- and you'll also be highly entertained. 

Remembering Lynn Samuels

Ten years ago I wrote briefly about Lynn Samuels, the radio talk show host who died suddenly in late 2011 at the age of 69. 

Lynn was a rare thing -- a liberal woman in the combative world of conservative male talk radio, a rough talking broad among the fast talking dudes. But her show was more than about politics -- it was about life, it was about attitude, it was about pop culture, it was about the absurdities of living in New York City -- and Lynn was New York City to the core. Her voice was the city. More than anyone else on the radio, she defined and explained NYC to itself.

She was the closest thing ever to a stand-up comedian on the air. 

Lynn was a journey-woman radio host, migrating from the rough and tumble of non-profit radio station WBAI to the (then) powerhouse local station WABC, and finally to the behemoth of SIRIUS XM. During her WABC years she would be hired and fired many times, always in a different time slot -- weeknights, late nights, Saturday mornings, Saturday afternoons, Sunday nights, and she would fill in for just about every other host on the station as well. She'd take calls and talk to anyone, bring on psychics and all sorts of weirdos on the air, she'd sing and bang the console, she'd do anything to entertain her audience. Before podcasts, Lynn was the best thing you could possibly listen to.

I discovered Lynn's show in high school and fell in love with it. I even called into her a few times to talk about the newly elected President Clinton and movies. She was always a joy to chat with, a real character. 

This hilarious clip of Lynn reading the personal ads capture what was so special about her, and Lord know we'll never hear her likes again on the NYC airwaves. 

Last of the Blues Greats

I just read -- and urged you to do so -- this article about Robert Ross, a veteran blues guitarist who has played the club scene in NYC and around the country for more than 50 years.

Even though Ross jammed with Jimi Hendrix back in the day and played at hallowed, long-gone NYC institutions like Max's Kansas City, Ross has never become rich and famous or any kind of star. He's remained, for more than half-a-centry, a journeyman muscian, a traveling man singing for his supper, a living relic of a time and music long gone by.

Yet Ross endures, sharing his genuine love the blues with people everywhere he goes. In some ways, he's a real life Llewyn Davis -- a singer/guitarist committed to a type of music that's not very popular, certainly not lucrative, but has so much soul and spirit, provides so much joy, that he's willing to keep performing it for pennies.

Ross's life story both saddens and inspires, making you realize that sometimes your love and pride in your work is the only reward you'll get -- and sometimes that's enough.

Ukraine vs. Russia Proxy War in NYC: Veselka vs. The Russian Tea Room

NYC Novelties

The definition of the word "novelty" is "the quality of being new, original, or unusual."

This city is filled with myriad novelties -- people, place, things -- that are offbeat, interesting, strange, original, and wholly their own. Good people may disagreed as to what makes someone, something, or someplace novel but, in looking at NYC past and present, here are three novelties that recently came to my attention that you might find interesting:

- If you are watching The Gilded Age, you might be intrigued by the character of Ward McCallister, portrayed by Nathan Lane. In a show that mixes history with fiction, McCallister was a real person, a self-appointed arbiter of NYC high society during the late 19th century. You might say he was Truman Capote before Truman Capote -- a Southern transplant of uncertain sexuality who delighted and amused wealthy and famous doyennes with rapier-like wit and cutting insights. He was invited and went everywhere, he was a valued guest at any table, he "made the scene" until, later in life, he wrote about it all and turned into a social pariah. Like Capote, McCallistser was a true NYC novelty, an "only-in-New York" type who couldn't exist anywhere else.

- Then there's a whole neighborhood that's a novelty -- Red Hook, Brooklyn. Right across the East River from Manhattan, Red Hook is largely cutoff from the rest of the borough and city since it has next to no public transporation (no subways, just one bus line, and the occasional ferry). A former industrial area, it seems frozen in time like -- no massive gentrification there -- like an old abandoned New England village. The residents love it and its streets and buildings almost seem like history made real. There really isn't any other neighborhood like it in the whole city, a real NYC residential novelty.

- Finally, when we think of Native American culture and the Wild West, we don't think of a townhouse in Boerum Hill. But you should! This fascinating article traces the history of a woman named Murial Miguel, now 84 years old, who grew up and still lives in this townhouse and who parents hosted numerous Native American actors and performers for decades, starting in the 1930s. It became a refuge and a salon for numerous Native American talents and Wild West show performers who were far from home, many scared to be in "the big city." Ms. Miguel is herself a theater performer and still working at her advanced age. What an amazing, trule "novel" NYC story!

"Saturday Night Live" & The Metropolitan Opera Sing for Ukraine