Queens Man Convicted

Al Ruddy RIP

Al Ruddy produced The Godfather and many other films. He was born in Montreal but his family moved to NYC when he was seven and he graduated from high school in Brooklyn before briefly attending City College. Eventually he made it to Hollywood and changed our culture. RIP.

The Kingdoms of NYC

If you watched the great Netflix show The Crown, about the late British Queen Elizabeth II, it was all about how a country's monarchy survives in a world where most countries are now republics. 

For most of human history, most of the world lived under monarchies -- but the last hundred-plus years has seen a reversal with monarchies falling and republics surging (see the brilliant 1974 series Fall of Eagles for more about why this happened).

As a study of history and politics, I'm fascinated by the diference between monarchies and republics. In short, a monarchy is a country ruled by one person and his or her family while a republic is a country ruled by the people. Most revolutions throughout history have been of countries overthrowing their monarchies and becoming republics -- although sometimes, like in Ancient Rome or 19th century France, it goes the other way (more than once). 

Today, of course, these things are much more complicated.

In the United Kingdom and some other counties, they have the concept of constitutional monarchies where the people elect a government but the monarch remains a powerless national figurehead. In some supposed republics, however, like North Korea or Russia, there is supposed rule by the people but really these countries are ruled by strongmen and their families -- these pseudo-republics being more authoritarian and monarchical than any real monarchy. 

But what exists in both monarchies and republics are dynasties -- families that build wealth and power and then exercise it over the people.

In America, a republic, we have and have had many dynasties: the Adamses, Harrisons, Roosevelts, Kennedies, Tafts, Clintons and Bushes all reaching not only the presidency but other high offices (like Congressional and Senate seats plus Governorships). First they dominate their political parties, then their states, then the country. 

Closer to home, we've had multiple New York Governors named Roosevelt and Cuomo (although, in NYC, we've had never had mayors of the same family). However, in super-local politics, we've had many dynasties in the state legislature and various city offices: the Boylans in Brooklyn, the Vallones in Queens, the Diazes in the Bronx, the Molinari's in Staten Island, and others. 

Dynasties in NYC politics are as powerful as ever. 

That's why I was interested to read about how the former Harlem Assemblyman Keith Wright's son Jordan is running for his old seat, seeking to continue a family's power in Harlem and state government. This is how dynasties are made.

Even though NYC is a democracy existing under the framework of state and federal law, it has its own charter divvying up power between the mayor and city council as well as the borough presidents, Comptroller and Public Advocate. And even though this city has multiple dynasties, NYC is not a some kind of 16-century Medici-like Italian city-state under dictatorial rule of one person or family. However, Mayor Adams has just appointed a charter commission charter commission to try to rein in the council's power and increase the mayor's (i.e. his) power. It's a cynical move to become less accountable (where else have we seen this?).

What's interesting to me about the perennial existance of dynasties in democracies, and of power-grabbing politicians like Adams (and other aspiring American tyrants who shall not be named), is that the concept of rule by the people with divided, limited powers, is and forever shall be a boulder being shoved up hill.

By their very nature, people are greedy and family-oriented, and they want to accumulate as much wealth and power as possible for themselves and, when they age or die out, want their families to retain it. That's why great dynasties like the Plantagenets in England or the Habsburgs in Austria or the Romanovs in Russia held power for centuries and were only overthrown through violence and war.

It doesn't matter what high ideals we may claim to have, whether we've had revolutions to get rids of monarches and establish republican rule -- the hunger for power by people and their families remains and overwhelms.

Especially in NYC.

Remembering Margaret Pine, the Last Slave in New York

Amongst the many tragedies of slavery throughout human history is that these human beings remain, for the most part, nameless and forgotten. Stripped of their humanity, identity, and dignity, they ceased to be thought of as individual souls and instead as used, abused, and discarded bodies. Along with their lives, their histories and stories remain a mystery to history. 

There are almost no records of these lives that most of humanity, for most of history, thought unworthy of chronicling. 

So that's why I was glad to learn about the life of Margaret Pine, the last slave in New York State. Unlike many of her forebearers and contemporaries, we have at least some small record of her life.

Margaret was born, as far as we know, in 1778 in Westchester. She was given to the family of Wynant Van Zandt, a weathly family in Manhattan. When Van Zandt moved his family from Manhattan to a farm in Little Neck in present day Queens, he freed her in 1813. Eventually she rejoined Van Zandt's family and died in 1857. 

She was buried in Greenwood Cemetary in Brooklyn. In what was considered a high compliment of the day, in antebellum America, her doctor said she had "black skin but a pure soul ... She lived like a sincere Christian."

Three years after Margaret's death, the Civil War would break out. But at least in NYC, this shameful chapter of our history was already over -- and, as its last victim, at least Margaret Pine's life is remembered to this day. 

Gotta Love New Yorkers

Saturday night I was passing through Penn Station when I saw two men running towards a staircase leading to an LIRR track.

At first I thought I was witnessing the start of a fight and got scared -- the running men were big, tough looking guys, and I was worried that mayhem was about to ensue.

But as I got closer and looked down the stairs, I saw that they were running to help a man -- who appeared to be in his 50s, looking like he was heading home -- who has just collapsed down the stairs. The men tried to revive him and, moment later, two cops bounded down the stairs, taking charge.

I stood and watched for a moment -- hoping, obviously, that the man would be ok, and wanting to be of assistance if possible -- but it soon became clear that my presence as either a helper or as an observer would be unhelpful. So I left, relieved that the situation was well in hand.

Most disturbing, in the short time I was at the scene, was that the man wasn't moving at all, moaning or groaning or making any noise at all, his eyes were closed and he was totally still. It may very well be that he had died. 

I hope not, and I haven't been able to find any information about this incident in the last two days. But seeing how this man's fellow New Yorkers, and the NYPD, leapt to his aid, trying to help and save him, gave me a momentary boost of pride in my fellow New Yorkers and this city and people in general.  

Haunted Words

The definition of something being "haunted" means it's been "frequented by a ghost." What's a ghost? An apparition, a nebulous image of something or someone that used to exist, used to live, appears to still exist but is in fact dead.

In some ways, every word that has ever been written is a ghost -- each word is an imprint of someone's mind, someone's thought at the time it was written. The words might have been written a long time ago, the thought long dissipated, the writer might long be dead, but their words still live, the thought they were recording at the time still provoke.

The written word haunts us all.

Think about it. The phrase "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past" still gives me chills even though its author has been dead for nearly a century. 

This idea of words being ghosts occurred to me recently when I read about a few perfect examples of their haunting power. 

As I wrote last summer, Quentin Tarantino was preparing a movie about an underground 1970s movie critic that sounded intriguing. I called the post The Romance of the Underground Writer and I expounded on the idea of writers (much like myself) whose words are read by few people but are beloved by those who do read them. Sadly it appears now that Quentin has dropped this movie and won't make it so this underground writer will truly remain underground. This unmade movie, like the writer and his words that it was about, will remain forever a ghost.  

Then there's a couple of Village Voice articles about music writers and their ghostly power.

Lester Bangs was a legendary rock critic who became nearly as famous as the singers and bands he reviewed. He was so influential and admired that Philip Seymour Hoffman played him in the 2000 movie Almost Famous. But even as brilliant as Lester was, he could get it wrong sometimes. In 1980, Lester wrote a long commentary about how the Rolling Stones 1978 album Some Girls wasn't that good and that, after almost two decades together, perhaps the Stones should break up. 

Just to give you an idea of how wrong Lester was, Some Girls contains, amongst other songs, "Beast of Burden" and "Shattered", brilliant, classic songs. And, of course, 44 years after this article was written, the Stones are still together, selling out shows. Even though Lester Bangs has been dead for more than 40 years, these words from this review still haunt him, even if his overall reputation remains deservedly undiminished.  

Another writer whose gone but whose words having staying power was and is Greg Tate. Another rock critic, he wrote about (mostly) African-American music and culture, and was one of the first critics to write about rap music seriously. He was so respected that he even became a professor at Columbia University.

Sadly Tate died in 2021 but he was just given a posthumously awarded a Pulitzer Prize and his words still inspire other writers and creative people to this day. He's a ghost who still makes our culture more alive.

Ancient Rome + Futuristic NYC = "Megalopolis"

Legendary director Francis Ford Coppola has a new movie coming out about how a disaster ruins a huge city, and how the forces of progess fight the forces of regression in their attempts to rebuild it.

Hence they battle for the future of this Megalopolis -- a city that has the power structure of Ancient Rome but with the whiz-bang technology of a futuristic NYC. 

It's a high-concept "fable" about the forces that tear apart humanity. Seems especially relevant now -- and I can't wait to see it!

Explore Historic Bayside

Bayside in Queens is just one neighborhood in the five boroughs but boy, oh, boy does it have an amazing history.

Did you know Bayside was the original Hollywood and that Rudolf Valentino lived there?

And that Bayside also has a castle?

Then there's Fort Totten, a world unto itself.

There's so much history and so much to learn about just this one small section of NYC. There's even a huge sign chronicling the history of Bayside at its LIRR station.

Check out the Bayside Historical Society and learn some history you never knew about!

Paul Auster & Tony Pigg RIP

Two New Yorkers passed away last week who were the kinds of people who give this city its spirit.

Paul Auster was the author of experimental but sentimental novels like The New York Trilogy and City of Glass. He also wrote the delightful 1995 Brooklyn-based movie Smoke, about the intersecting lives of New Yorkers who frequent a local cigar store. I remember watching this movie in theaters just before going off to college and it was like taking a little bit of the city with me in my heart.

Another recent loss is the radio DJ Tony Pigg who bounced around the NYC dial for decades. He DJ'd at my old station WPLJ as well as WNEW and K-ROCK. He also had a great gig as the announcer for LIVE with Regis Philben for 30 years.

Both great New Yorkers who made our city a little better. RIP.

The Presidents and the Kings

On December 21st, 1970, the President Richard Nixon met Elvis Presley, the King of Rock'n'Roll, in the Oval Office: 

Two years later, on December 19th, 1972, President Nixon had a brief condolence phone call with a very young Senator-elect Joe Biden who had just lost his wife and daughter in a horrific accident:

Nixon would resign just under two years later after the Watergate scandal and Biden would go on to serve as a US Senator, Vice-President, and President for the next 52 years. 

And on April 26, 2024, President Biden visited Howard Stern, the King of All Media, in his studio where he talked about his life, career, and the tragedies and triumphs that shaped his life:

All I can say is that, after listening to this interview and in this very crazy world, we're really lucky to have Joe Biden in the White House and Howard Stern on the airwaves. They keep us decent, they keep us sane. 

Scenes from the Columbia University Protests -- April 30, 2024

Little did I know, as I approached the periphery of the Columbia University campus, that the weeks-long protest/sit-in/riot -- whatever you want to call it -- was in its NYPD-enforced final hours. 

Before around 200 cops stormed the campus that night -- breaking up the encampments, cleaning out Hamilton Hall, arresting people -- I walked around the walls of Columbia in waning daylight to see what was going on.

Honestly, at the time, not much, but here is a short photo-chronicle of what I saw:

First, there were multiple helicopters overhead, a symphony of chopper blades soon becoming a kind of unremarkable white noise.

I then approached the campus on 120th street, walking down Amsterdam Avenue, where the bulk of the protestors outside the campus were congregated. There was a heavy NYPD and campus police prescence, urging us pedestrians to move on and not gawk. There were multiple signs indicating that university ID was needed to enter the campus.

There were also multiple areas cordoned off for the media, plus lots of news trucks on the streets. Interestingly I walked right past the bestselling author Michael Wolff, obviously looking to find a juicy story to write about. 

I walked down to 114th street, crossing over to Broadway, then up to 116th to the main grand entrance of the Campus. There was no crowd there, no protestors, just a lot of bored-looking security standing at the barricades or before the locked gates or coming and going. It was actually (relatively) quiet.

Finally I walked back down to the entrance of WKCR radio, the Columbia University radio station, where I talked to two young ladies standing outside. To be honest, they seemed bored with the whole protest but I told them that, in the 1990s, we college students were totally politically apathetic. One of the ladies subsequently shamed me by saying, "There was the AIDS crises ..." And, needless to say, I then felt like a bigger-than-usual asshole. I wished both ladies well. 

Then I left.

Honestly,  I saw more security than protestors and obviously I couldn't get on the campus or really take any pictures despite my best efforts. I only wish that the US Capitol had been this well patrolled, or that law enforcement had been this aggressive, on January 6, 2021 (but, you know, I think we know why). 

And, later that night, in came the cops to shut it down.

Much like the whole Israel-Gaza situation/war, there seems to be no ground for reason or compromise or mutual understanding. For so many it seems to be either/or, one side against the other, no debate, no concessions, nothing but anger and violence. It's really sad. 

But Columbia has big history of sit-ins and protests -- this is just another one in its long, long history.