Upright & Stowed

Stormy Weather

It's cold as a witch's tit here in New York this weekend.  And it's supposed to snow on Sunday.  Not an ideal forecast for a weather-sensitive bloke like me. 

So I've decided to seize the occasion and post this a-ma-zing tap dance number, featuring the Nicholas Brothers in STORMY WEATHER, a 1943 film by 20th Century Fox.  The film featured a mostly black cast, and well, this is Black History Month, isn't it?  Fred Astaire called this performance "the greatest dance number ever filmed." It's gotta be up there.  Decide for yourself.

Naked City: Gotta Get A Gimmick Edition

In a city with so many amazing characters, you've gotta get a gimmick if you want to make your mark ... and to be written about in The New York Times.  And so it was for Joe Ames, the amazing vegetable peeler of the Union Square GreenMarket.  How many Saturdays did I listen – along with thousands of others – to his booming, resonant British accented voice, marveling that a guy could support himself hawking carrot peelers.

I wasn't the only one who took notice, of course, and when Joe died a couple weeks ago, he earned one of the great badges of life in New York City: An article and obit in the paper of record.  With the passing of Joe, the Big Apple is one character poorer.  But because it's New York, you know there's a long line of new talent ready to stake its claim.

You Know Things Suck When ...

... things are bad in Dubai. 

From yesterday's NY Times: "No one knows how bad things have become, though it is clear that tens of thousands have left, real estate prices have crashed and scores of Dubai’s major construction projects have been suspended or canceled. But with the government unwilling to provide data, rumors are bound to flourish, damaging confidence and further undermining the economy."   (Photo Credit)

Ouch.

The Day The MUZAK Died

I can’t be sure of this but if karma and serendipity are real, I think I helped bring down MUZAK.  On Monday evening, I worked out at my glam-in-the-basement gym, Equinox, on 17th/Tenth.  The music on the dance floor ... I mean, gym floor was typical hi-energy Chelsea.  But the music in the locker room was another story. 

Equinox is a chain … but a gym chain of the highest, most urban caliber.  At any branch, you can expect sleek industrial design, urban zen, obsessive cleanliness, herbal hand-sanitizing dispensers, purified water, beautiful people.  Unfortunately, Equinox hasn’t quite landed on an appropriate solution for locker room music.  They clearly want the shower/grooming zone to be chill.  But it typically ends up sounding more like a dentist’s office.   On Monday night, the tunes coming out of the locker room speakers were SO bad that I filled out a comment card.  “MUZAK MUST GO!” is all I wrote. 

So … imagine my shock on the treadmill last night when I saw the MUZAK logo on CNN and heard the news that MUZAK has filed for bankruptcy.  Going out of business is always a bit sad.  But in this case you have to wonder, is anyone going to miss MUZAK?  Methinks not.  Equinox, however, better start searching the iTunes Store for something new.

Time Travel: What's That Show?

I am in the process of growing my hair out after a year of buzz cuts.  Hopefully the result will be more successful than this foray into long hair from ten years ago. 

Speaking of ten years ago, in a recent post I reminisced about 1999.  Here is a shot taken that year, on a night that found millions of Americans glued to their television sets.  The entertainment value that evening was very very high.  Like me and my friends, you were probably watching the show as it aired, since TIVO and DVR weren’t around yet.  So here’s the question:  What was the show?

Just When I Was Getting Comfortable

During my glory travel years working at AmEx and Out & About, you were far more likely to find me in the front of the plane than the rear.  Around 2003, things shifted, both in terms of my personal travel benefits and the industry’s likelihood of dolling them out.  Slowly, I moved to the “back of the bus.”  And eventually I accepted the move.  JetBlue and Virgin America smoothed the way with personal video screens and gobs of channels … almost enough to make you forget the sardine can in which you were sitting. 

Just when I thought the back was worth the lower price, Sully goes and hits a flock of birds, lands in the Hudson and proves otherwise.  Check out the different service USAir delivered to its First vs. Coach passengers.  Did someone say “Upgrade, please”?

(Note Bene: I have no idea is this pic is doctored or not, but it was too perfect not to post.)

Stair Porn

If you've ever visited my home on West 22nd Street, you know there's a hike of about 68 stairs to get to unit 4H.  Logic would have it that, after 4 years living there, I should have a rock hard ass, with shelf.  Logic sometimes fails.

Because stairs are a part of my daily existence, I would like to introduce you to Stair Porn, a website devoted to stairs and nothing but stairs.  It's an interesting site, both for what it is and what it says about the availability of pretty much everything on the web.   Enjoy Stair Porn – No Lube Required.

Memory Lane, Part 3: If I Can Make It There

My friends Margot and Sarah would probably strangle me if I included their last names in this post.  So it's first-names only in describing this photo taken on one of the more significant moments in my life: The day they opened their apartment door in February 1984, welcoming me to the beginning of my new life in New York City!

<smile>

Let’s take a measure of that day:

• The country was still crawling out of the '81/'82 recession
• New York City was a dump, but what a dump
• AIDS was scaring people, a lot
• I had no job prospects
• Margot and Sarah lived in Lincoln Towers
• I was excited, and scared

What happened next:

• I found a 2-bedroom sublet in the Far West Village for $781/month
• The only “condition” on the pad was that the lease holder be allowed to crash on my couch for The Saint Black and White Party weekends
• I spent 3 months trudging through rain, slush and snow as I applied for jobs at – and was rejected by –  15 major ad agencies
• I finally landed a crappy big-agency job, paying a whopping $18,000/year
• My father suggested garbage collection as a more promising financial path

I spent the next few years in that strange zone of both loving and hating New York City, trying to decide whether to move to California or stay put.  I stayed, I made my way, and I came to love the city as much as I imagined I would when I first laid eyes on it as a teenager. 

Many of my favorite things find their greatest expression in New York City:  Creativity ... Diversity … Intelligence … Light … Culture … Romance … Community ... Curiosity … Energy … Challenge … Dreams.

I hope that my presence has added a small measure of interest to the life of New York City over these past 25 years.  And, of course, I thank all the participants in the daily drama of New York – known and unknown to me –  for making me the person I am today.  Start spreading the news!

Memory Lane, Part 2: Those You've Known

Ten years ago, I was in Los Angeles for work.  At the end of the day I went to Gold’s Gym to work out and cruise the boys.  The more things change …

On the particular day I’m remembering, I was jolted by the sight of a man named Jeff.  This is Jeff and me several months later on a cruise, passing through Glacier Bay, Alaska.  Jeff was not only one of the most beautiful men I ever saw, but he was breathtaking on the inside.  Creative, spiritual, fun-loving, smart and a total natural at pretty much everything.   Our relationship lasted a fleeting nine months; our friendship lasted until he died of complications from AIDS in 2005. 

I’m not a super-spiritual person (though I’d like to be), but Jeff is one of several people I’ve lost whose spirit seems to travel with me.  Occasionally I’ll meet someone, and I have a sense that they might have known Jeff.  When I ask, they usually have.  Sometimes when I have a thought of something beautiful, or when I feel love, I swear I feel Jeff’s spirit in the room. The song that reminds me most of Jeff is U2's City of Blinding Lights, and that's what they played at the inaugural concert.  I could not have imagined that such a meaningful event could become any better for me, but when U2 began playing that song and Jeff's spirit entered the room, I totally lost it.  In the happiest possible way.

It may sound silly, but I’ve come to believe that we are surrounded by the spirits of those who have filled our lives with good things  … those who helped us see things in a new way … those who made us aware of who we are.  Ten years ago I was introduced to the man who is now the spirit I think of as Jeff.   Thirty years ago I came to know two great aunts who are still a part of my living experience of New York City.   And 48 years ago I was an infant with an aunt whose spirit still helps me see the potential in people. 

None of these people are alive.  But they’re with me all the time.  Check out this tune by Duncan Sheik.  He knows what I’m talking about.

 

Memory Lane, Part 1: The Dance Floor

I'm a big believer that romanticizing the past is not a good use of energy.  Hard to resist, yes.  But it gets you nowhere.  Celebrating the past, however, is another thing entirely.  Sometimes I find myself particularly flooded by memories past, and lately those memories have been especially sweet.  Herewith, a few posts on some memories that have been top of mind in recent days.

The mid 90s were my clubbing glory years.  Fortunately, they were NYC's big-club glory years too.  Junior Vasquez was my DJ God.  (I just felt half my friends roll their eyes, and the other half nod in agreement).

Skip ahead to 2009.  I was feeling the need for an iPod upgrade ... something "new" to rev up and propel my cardio workouts, and I thought a Junior dance classic might do the trick.  Did it ever.  I downloaded the JV classic remix of Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know?" 

Now you may think of "How Will I Know?" as a pop trifle from 1985.  But in Junior's hands, it was a dance phenomenon that  induced mass endorphin rush on a dance floor.  I've uploaded his mix of the song for your listening pleasure.  The three minute intro build is pure, classic Junior.  You get teased with bits and pieces of the song ... you start to realize what the song is ... your heart starts pumping faster and faster ... and at the peak of the build, he releases one short phrase – the first – with Whitney's voice itself.  The dance floor explodes, people catch their breath, the song proper begins, and joyfulness reigns. Here's the mix for you ...