Back when local TV still did children's shows, "The Magic
Garden" was one of the most popular. Broadcast weekday afternoons on WPIX Channel 11 in NYC, it ran from 1972-1984.
It starred two cute ladies named Carole and Paula who sported totally awesome hairdos (having long ironed hair was very popular with women back then) and who wore bell bottoms and funky shirts. The set was a psychedelic, very trippy garden where Carole and Paula would sit on toadstools, alternatively singing songs and talking with dandelions and trees. While it was a show for kids, I would imagine that people smoking or ingesting various substances would have enjoyed this show too.
This is a classic bit of NYC, a piece of our city's lost past. Maybe things weren't so much better or innocent back then, but they sure were colorful -- and fun.
A few years ago, I blogged a tribute to George Plimpton, the late
writer/magazine founder/actor/pitchman/participatory journalist/society maven
and all around great New Yorker.
George Plimpton was a true iconoclast, a real original. A decade since his
death, he is still remembered as the quintessential "professional amateur."
Recently, the PBS series "American Masters" did a great episode about
his life and work. If you can't find it on the tube, you can watch it here.
Do you like to write about New York City -- or anything else?
If so, you should guest-blog!
If you have a great idea for a blog post, I'd love to hear about or post it. Obviously you will get any and all credit for the post plus any and all links that you wish to include with it.
If so, please email me at donut30@gmail.com.
You can write about anything: NYC, relationships, politics, business, personal hygiene, TV, movies, the Internet -- let your imagination run wild!
Recently the beloved wife and I hired a babysitter, got dressed to the nines,
and headed out to 11 Madison Park. I'm still not sure how to write about this
dinner since it was less of a meal and more an experience of sensory overload.
I've gone to movies and seen shows that were less entertaining than this. And
certainly not as delicious.
Located right off of Madison Square Park,
the restaurant is situated on the ground floor of the grand art deco
Metropolitan Life Building. The dining room is a yawning arch of marble with
huge tables spaced far apart. Honestly though, we didn't have a lot time to look
around and get a vibe for the place since, from the moment we got there, the
wait staff pulled us into easily the most unique dining experience we've ever
had.
11 Madison Park is a tasting menu restaurant so you don't order a
thing. There are only about 80 tables and the diners are seated at different
intervals across the evening so each table gets an enormous amount of
attention. The first thing the waiter asked us to do was to open a small
envelope -- they even provide a letter opener -- and to select a flavor. Our
choices were, if I recall correctly, strawberry, celery, raspberry and coffee (I
chose strawberry, my lady selected celery). Then we got the extensive booze list
and ordered a couple of cocktails. Shortly thereafter, the first of MANY courses
came out.
I could write a lot about each dish but, in the interest of
time, will simply list them and provide some commentary where I feel its helps.
The menu consisted of:
Cheddar - Savory Black and White Cookie with Apple: a wonderful
little treat that loosens the taste buds and preps you for the food to
come.
Oyster - Baked Potato Ice Cream and Caviar
Morel - Custard
with Maine Sea Trout Roe
English Peas - Warmed with Meyer Lemon and Egg
Yolk
Beef - Pastrami with Ramps, Rye, Mustard, and Strawberry: this was
really fun. It was served in a basket and designed to be a high-end picnic.
Think a very, very, very high-end deli sandwich. Also, the flavor that we had
selected earlier was the flavor for a cola that was served with the sandwich.
Very cool. It even came with an fake artisanal paper plate!
Foie Gras - Cured with Orange Chamomile, White Asparagus and
Bitter Almond
Apple - Waldorf Salad with Celery, Rhubarb and Walnuts:
they prepare this right at the table and the ingredients are very finely sliced.
Lobster - Poached with Beets, Ginger and Nasturtium: if I recall
correctly, this was a little soup served underneath the Waldorf salad.
Asparagus - Braised with Potato and Black Truffle: this was actually
cooked in a bladder and they showed it to us as it was being cooked. Mmmmm
...
Duck - Broth with Cured Duck and Watercress Roasted with Rhubarb,
Shallots and Scallions: this was the highlight of the night. It was a freshly
prepared duck (again, they wheeled it out to show us during its preparation)
that was very carefully seasoned and amazingly tender.
Fresh Cheese -
Pretzel, Parsley and Strawberries: a nice palette cleanser.
Whey -
Sorbet with Caramelized Milk and Milk Foam
Almond - Baked Alaska with
Rum, Caramel and Strawberry
Pretzel - Chocolate Covered with Sea
Salt
Chocolate - Sweet Black and White Cookie with Mint
But wait
- 'dere's more!
After the meal, we were given a bag containing two huge
jars of fresh granola with dried fruit. This was a small present to take with us
and, for the next week, I ate it for breakfast each morning (my wife took it to
her office as a snack).
Then the most fun part: we were given a tour of the kitchen. It is
a huge beautiful modern factory run with Swiss efficiency. Best of all, we were
taken to a special place of honor, where they cut up some apple, used an
old-time ice grinder, and created delicious natural frozen ices for us. Again,
delicious. The wait staff was beyond polite, kind, and considerate. It's almost
like they mad us part of the 11 Madison Park family. This is a place that truly
views food and service as an art. At the end of the evening, we left the
restaurant in a daze. It was an amazing, dare I say almost sensual, experience.
Besides the great food, wonderful service, and fun experience, 11
Madison Park isn't just another fancy restaurant: it's a New York-inspired
restaurant through-and-through. Our waiter told us that 11 Madison Park is
celebration of the city, and its food reflects this: the beef pastrami, the
oysters, the Waldorf salad, the pretzel and the ices all have a literal and
figurative NYC flavor.
This isn't a "brand" restaurant that can be franchised. This is a
unique place, the food and experience found in only one place -- and one city.
11 Madison Park is the peak of excellence and a reminder of how
eating great food in NYC can make for a memorable time. If you want a meal of a
lifetime, you should definitely go there.
It's an issue that's been
roiling the city for weeks. You would think that in these tough economic times
that a "boutique" issue like this wouldn't be so important. But big money and a
facile media has suddenly made it a big issue.
The reason is simple:
Mayor De Blasio supports the ban. He wants to replace the horse-drawn carriages
in and around Central Park with pseudo-vintage cars. That means tourists and
romancing couples, instead of clopping around the park, would put-put
instead. Many animal rights groups, including PETA, have been pushing for the
ban for years. Last year, during the Mayor's race, they raised and spent a lot
of money bashing candidates who didn't support the ban and helped De Blasio get elected.
Meanwhile, since he took
office, supporters of the carriages have been calling on De Blasio to halt his
plans and keep the carriages going. The New York Daily News has been
running editorials and petitions to stop the ban. Movie star Liam Neeson has
been on a crusade to retain them. Many New Yorkers are wailing that this ban
would be one more loss to the culture of our city.
It's a real battle.
For the mayor, it's a real political pickle.
And, for once, I don't
know what to think.
I have no idea if we should ban the carriages. I'm
almost 40 years old and this issue has been debated ever since I was a kid. I
remember seeing ads on buses with ugly pictures of dead horses, lying on the
cold hard city street, leaking blood -- with a big picture of then-Mayor Ed Koch
being called upon to ban the carriages. Personally, I've never really wanted to
take a carriage ride. When I've walked past them on Central Park South, I've
always thought it was a little cruel that these beautiful animals were being
harnessed and kept there, being scared by the cars passing on the streets. Not
to mention the smell - oy vey! Here you are, walking on one of the most
beautiful stretches of the city, next to some of the most expensive real estate
in the world, and you gotta smell horse doody. It's kinda gross.
And yet
... they're history. They're an intrinsic part of the city's cultural life.
They're also a real money maker for the city, with the aforementioned tourists
and amorous couples paying lots of dough for the privilege of living in the 19th
century for a few minutes. And there's the jobs -- not just the carriages
"drivers" or whatever they're called, but also the stable hands and hoof makers,
etc. who support them. I'm sorry, but really, who wants to ride around Central
Park in silly old vintage car? Horses have magic. Cars have none.
I've noticed that when the
debate on any issue gets really inflamed -- like abortion, immigration, or horse
draw carriages -- it's because both sides are right. So just because you take
one side vs. the other
Today, everyone claims to be a nerd -- even some hot chicks. But if most
people knew what being a nerd was really like, of what it entailed, they'd stop
it immediately.
Nerds are not cool. If they were, they wouldn't be
nerds.
To be a nerd is not a lifestyle choice. To be a nerd is a curse,
a cruel sentence of rejection.
The old cliche of nerds as people
who wear glasses and pocket protectors, who are interested in math
and science, play video games, are big into science fiction fantasy and comic
books, who do well in school and are masters of technology, who are "smart" --
that Weird Science 1980s version of nerds is as dead as Ronald
Reagan.
Besides, that's not what being a nerd is about -- then or
now.
To be a nerd is to be an outcast. And I don't mean a James Dean
kind of outcast. I mean a real outcast. A loser. A reject. A leper. A nothing.
Nerds are people who know no one -- and who nobody knows. They have no
friends. Their own families detest them. They are alone. Sad. Miserable. Boring.
People hate them -- for no other reason than they exist. They are
obnoxious, unlikeable, they posses no charm, they are social-sexual vacuums.
They are ... ugh.
If you have a girlfriend, or boyfriend, or have any
kind of social/sexual contact with other people, you are NOT a nerd.
If
you are in band or are a member of a sports team or are accepted by any kind of
group, you are NOT a nerd.
If you have money or wealth of any kind, you are NOT a nerd.
Nerds lead lives of total misery and quiet desperation. No one wants
them. No one likes them. No one cares about them. They are nothing.
Most people aren't nerds. And, for that, they should be profoundly
grateful.
Like everything in life, it all comes down to power. Nerds are
people who have no power -- social, sexual, political, economic, etc.
Nerds cannot conquer the world because that would mean they have power -- and they don't.
So for one who was born a nerd, who lived most of his life as a nerd, and
who has struggled mightily to shed his nerddom, I beg ye all: stop claiming to be
nerds!
One of my most popular blog posts is my 2007 tribute to the late NYC DJ Alison Steele. Nicknamed "The Nightbird", she ruled the overnight rock radio airwaves in this town throughout the 1970s, 80s, and early 90s until she died of cancer in September, 1995. Her distinctive voice gave thousands of listeners of joy, including yours truly. Her death at age 58, almost 20 years ago, was and is a great loss.
I listened to Alison Steele back in high school, sometimes when I was up late at night, but usually in the very early morning, towards the end of her shift. I would usually listen to the music on her show in the shower and then, when I got out, I'd be toweling off as Alison Steele would end her show, usually with a quote from a great poet (Blake, Wordsworth, or Shakespeare) or she would share an insight or some words of wisdom before she would "fly away." Then, usually about five to ten minutes later, Howard Stern would take the air and new day would have officially begun.
It was a great way to wake up. It's a great memory to have.
In the 6 1/2 years since I first posted my tribute to her, several Mr NYC have posted their memories of listening to Alison Steele back in the day. Their tributes, more than mine, I think show what a touching legacy she left.
So it was great to find Howard Stern's September 28, 1995 show that was broadcast the day after she died. The tribute that he gives her is pure Howard: wild, funny, offensive, and curiously touching. Apparently, she was very popular with her fellow DJs. And she loved cats. And she was hot. And she was also a radio pioneer.
This is also a great show because the movie critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert made an appearance on this show and are hilarious. In this episode, they even review the movie "Showgirls" and it's a hoot.
These were great talents and are sorely missed. But thanks to technology, the live on. So not only can we remember them, but still enjoy.
Some years are transformative -- and 1964 was one of them.
Like 1994, it was a "hinge-of-history" year, a year when everything
changed, a year when events that happened in it had long-term repercussions. The
previous year, 1963, ended on the tragic note of President Kennedy's
assassination. For many American it felt like the end of innocence. In many ways,
it was: in the near future were Vietnam, Watergate, race riots, stagflation, and
rising crime rates. But despite the horror of November 22, 1963, 1964 was an
exciting year. We got, amongst other things:
1. The British Invasion of Beatlemania that would transform rock
music and American culture.
2. The 1964 Civil Rights Act that ended legal discrimination
across the country and would one day lead to the first black president.
3. The historic landslide election of President Lyndon Johnson
that (Vietnam not withstanding) lead to the creation of Medicare and Medicaid,
the Voting Rights Act, and even the creation of public television (amongst other
things).
4. The 1964 World's Fair in Flushing, Queens.
This last event, obviously, was a big deal in NYC. The world came
to New York to see the future. Designed and overseen by legendary master
building Robert Moses (it was his last big career triumph), the Fair stretched
from April, 1964 until 1965 and featured thousands of exhibits by companies like
Ford and GM, Pepsi, IBM, and Westinghouse all displaying their wares.
Governments from the around the world came and had big displays and shows to
"advertise" themselves to an international audience. And, of course, artists
came to sell their work. Plus, this was the beginning of the Space Age, and there were lots
of exhibits featuring rockets, some of which are visible in Flushing Meadows
Park today.
In 1964, America realized that the 20th century wouldn't last
forever and the World Fair gave us a glimpse of things to come.
The actual Fair has taken on legendary status. It was the last of
its kind in New York City and is considered the gold standard for all World's
Fair since then. But it was not without its controversies.
First, there was financial mismanagement. Even though the Fair
brought in tons of money, it cost more to run. Blame for this can be laid at the
feet of Mr. Moses, as Robert Caro writes about extensively in The Power Broker.
Its money-losing legacy is one of the reasons there hasn't been another World's
Fair in NYC since then.
Second, a lot of stuff was built for it that has since fallen into
disuse. There's a sphere in Flushing Meadows Park that, despite looking cool,
had cost a fortune to maintain. And then there's the Pavilion, which has been
called New York's most beautiful ruin.
Third, there's the politics. In the 1960s, New York State was ruled
by Governor Nelson Rockefeller. His money and political power made him
invincible. The World's Fair was his baby, the crown jewel of his legacy that he
hoped would propel him into the Presidency. Obviously, it didn't, but his
political goals led to decisions in planning and management that led to the cost
overruns. Most appallingly, however, is that it led to an unconscionable act of
censorship by the then governor. The great artist Andy Warhol created his only
work of public art for the Fair called "13 Most Wanted Men" (it was, bizarrely,
a mural of the 13 most wanted criminals in America). Some people found it
offensive, and Rockefeller pressured Warhol to paint it over. He did, and the
public was denied seeing this amazing piece of art.
Since 1964, Warhol has, like the World's Fair and unlike Nelson
Rockefeller, become iconic. And, in fact, 1964, was truly an iconic year. It
felt like, and was, a time when possibilities were limitless. We were going into
space. We were ending discrimination. The culture was changing, become more
radical, more weird. The middle class was exploding. It was a good time in
America and NYC -- and the World's Fair encapsulated it.
Of course, it would all come crashing down very soon thereafter.
The Kennedy assassination late the previous year seemed to be a dark
foreshadowing of the many crises that would shake America and the world after
that. NYC would go through turbulent times too (think the fiscal crises of the
1970s, booming crime, the destruction of the middle class). But the World's Fair
showed then that the future should be something to be embraced and not feared --
and maybe one day, hopefully, it will be so again.
