You are currently browsing the stories about the “Manhattan” neighborhood.
As most everyone by now knows, a little family of French bistros lies scattered over the lower half of Manhattan, as if arranged by the single pass of a great pepper mill. Named Le Gamin (save one Le Deux Gamin), each is a neighborhood place, a paradox of quiet and noisy, sunny and dark, boring and piqued, where woody rosemary [...]
This week’s meeting of the New York Companion Bird Club of Manhattan was held at the Jackson Hole Restaurant. This would be the first bird club meeting of my life. I have never liked birds very well. In my last year of undergraduate college, I transferred to San Francisco State University, and discovered that the cafeteria there was infested with [...]
When I was in college, I spent an entire night dancing at the Palladium in New York City with Spalding Gray. We danced and danced to every song- danceable or not. I didn't know who he was but my friends did and he was a very cool older man who seemed to still like the things I'd assumed you stopped [...]
The high ceiling lofts feel more SoHo than Lower East Side, though the view of Seward Park High School to the north and tenement bricks from the terraces facing south easily reorient you. This freshly painted blue building gracing Grand Street between Essex and Ludlow Streets originally housed a piano showroom and warehouse before the Sunray Yarn factory took it [...]
A block or so north of the Brooklyn Bridge, just behind the old New York Post Building, between Catherine and Market Streets, squats Knickerbocker Village. This unassuming enclave of bare brick apartment towers, privately managed, which might easily be mistaken for one of the nearby government projects, made history as the first major housing development even partially supported by public [...]
Distinct from other great cities of the world, Manhattan is almost pathologically averse to letting you wander to the river's edge and get close enough to touch the water. It has erected a prophylactic wall of fences and other physical barriers, which over-protectively stave off potential accidents, intentional harm and, most of all, liability suits. It was not always thus. [...]
There was a time, not long ago, when turtles enjoyed a brief vogue in New York City. Turtles whose shells weren't much bigger than a silver dollar were sold on street corners all over Manhattan, and people crowded around to buy them. In the midst of this turtle trend, my friend Kip moved back to New York, after two years [...]
Middlemarch was a bitch: all lace and wayside chapels and conversations hissed behind gloved hands. Eliot's prose was denser than a Dorset garden, and we were all lost. All except for Todd, the grinning mook genius in British Lit class, who would interrupt the torpor with irreverent debates. We craved the distraction. It was the Spring of 1980 at Syracuse [...]
Michael had long used us as a test audience for his trendy nihilism, togging up in punk, new wave and goth to suit his status as a Parsons grad student. We, his undergrad pals from Syracuse, continued to feign shock, through ten shades of hair color, safety pins inserted in various extremities, kilts, bondage pants and all-black wardrobes. But there [...]
Twenty-one children (the first of whom were triplets), and twenty-one grandchildren. And two wives, if you're wondering. Thirteen with the first wife, nine with the next. He's not married anymore. He grew up in Brownsville, Brooklyn, when it was still Brownsville, Brooklyn. Now he lives in Springfield Gardens, Queens. On public transportation it takes him two and a half hours [...]
It was 1969 and cats were everywhere in Morningside Heights. Multitudes of feral alley prowlers, storefront dozers, and the gray cat who was allowed to sit in the open, unscreened window of the fourth floor apartment across the street. He was always reaching toward pigeons with a wistful paw, even though the pigeons were never anywhere close. Whenever I returned [...]
A slightly built African-American man in a standard-issue beige trenchcoat murmured as we passed on the street. "Say, you wouldn't mind giving the time of day to a Black man?" "What can I do for you?" "Well, I'm just here at St. Luke's, you see, for the methadone program, and I have to get home, and the buses, they require [...]
The garden in Riverside Park is fragrant and full of kids playing, but only several hundred yards away Grant's Tomb maintains its atmosphere of austerity and stillness. The sign on the plaza outside the Tomb, under the sycamores, reads NO ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES. And immediately one thinks of whiskey and of the General in his Union-blue private's coat and of the [...]
I sit in a tree with pen and paper in hand, planning to writing a letter. The branches under me are smooth and rough in patches, warped like an elephant's trunk. The shade of the tree, the cool breeze and warm sun make me feel good, and calm, and in control. An elderly man stands some ways off, smoking a [...]
Manhattan is the capitol of the unexpected encounter. There are no dogs barking to warn you of the unexpected, no dust being kicked up on a long curving dirt road as a stranger approaches. So it was that I found myself standing in Nussbaum & Wu, wishing that her presence had kicked up a little more dust. Here before me, [...]
Eliot Majors, age 9, slides his queen diagonally across the chessboard, then inexplicably halts one square short. Check. Several watching youngsters groan. "Nooo!" cries one, clutching his chest, and falls to the ground in dramatic disbelief. Maurice Ashley, age 34, removes his dark sun glasses and his leather jacket. "You sure you want to do that?" he says. It doesn't [...]
Melting orange popsicles, dripping ice cream cones, slushy cherry ices and candy all day long--all reminders of lazy summer days spent growing up in Harlem. A day that began for me not long after dawn. Peering out of my living room window, I see that the Harlem world is just beginning to stir, but I am wide awake and bursting [...]
I immediately rediscovered my stance - Kruger's signature red boxes, the bold typed messages upon entrance erased the damage the glossy magazine had done. I remembered whose side I was on when viewing Kruger's commands: "you are a captive audience", "your body is a battleground", "we are your elaborate holes", "your comfort is my silence." Every picture and its copy [...]
In his long running quest to be a perpetual house guest, Sherban had developed a new strategy: balconies. Something about a balcony reassured apartment owners that one's presence was only temporary, enjoyable almost. And life on a balcony turned out to be refreshingly casual, al fresco. By contrast to a "spare room" or fold-out sofa, one could be proud of [...]
Having finished the Blue-plate Special And reached the coffee stage, Stirring her cup she sat, A somewhat shapeless figure Of indeterminate age In an undistinguished hat. When she lifted her eyes it was plain That our globular furore, Our international rout Of sin and apparatus And dying men galore, Was not being bothered about. Which of the seven heavens Was [...]
Illustration by Elisha Cooper I was married and she was married and we probably shouldn't have been doing what we were doing, especially where we were doing it. But there we were, late winter, 2002, at 57th and Broadway, a spot that, at least to an out-of-towner like me, signified something important. I read once that that intersection was the [...]
Dear Diary, Having just dropped towel in the men’s locker room of one of the numerous branches of the Union Square-area New York Sports Clubs, I bent over to slip my leg into my underwear (charcoal gray boxer briefs, from Bloomies, of course!) when I noticed out of the corner of my right eye that someone had moved inappropriately close [...]
Phoebe’s is the local coffee shop, and it isn’t a bad place to be in the summer. The patio in the back hosts a leafy tree that sprawls between the fire escape above and the duplex behind, shading the tables and chairs and making it cool. A rusted watering can props open the screen door. There is a sink off [...]
Julio, a boyish thirty-one, has difficulty not smirking when admitting to having slept with over seventy-five females. The majority were what Julio dubs "Barnard floozies": white, rich undergraduates at Columbia University or Barnard College. Julio can list most of their names on a napkin. Those whose names he can't recall, he can usually remember something about them, like the one [...]
Our company president paced before us in miniature Ferragamo shoes, her furrowed brow crowned by a platinum beehive. With her short, tyrannical stature she smacked of Kim Jong II preparing to invade Madison Avenue. She had called us junior PR flacks into her office for a rousing speech. "You’re the best of the agency and that’s why we have you [...]
“The movie was mad nice,” said Anissa. “That movie was the dumbest movie I ever seen,” Brian answered. “It was a waste of money. I thought that Event Horizon would be the scariest movie of the month, but turns out it was just another dumb movie.” Anissa answered, “The only reason you think it’s dumb is because you’re dumb and [...]
Aspiring poets learn, early on, the value of concrete imagery; of replacing metaphorically huge words with small sensory explosions which blow the reader into reality. Allen Ginsberg didn't write "live life," he wrote of those "who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup." Sylvia Plath didn't say, "I mourn the dead," but rather, "Thirty years [...]
It was the day before the day before Christmas. Several puppies were carousing in the window of a pet store. The avenue was full of people. It was not the normal crowdedness, he felt. It was a less stressed out crowdedness, a crowd in the mood for lingering. He joined the crowd watching the puppies. They were separated into three [...]
K.Y. Grocery, near the corner of 83rd on the east side of York, is run by a Korean family who are friendly with the Japanese fish market that lies next door. If you are a regular, they will let you run small tabs if you’re short on cash, and they always round up or down to avoid pennies. Since it’s [...]
Anyone who passed by the intersection of Adams and Plymouth on the summer evening of August 9th must’ve been confused—violent splashes of every color imaginable had turned a dull concrete lot under the Manhattan Bridge into a gargantuan Jackson Pollock painting. Not that shocking in artsy DUMBO, but closer inspection revealed that this was no street painting. In fact, the [...]
The Segway first appeared in front of the B-61 bus stop on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg about a month and a half ago. Riding it was a short, thin lad sporting an uneven bowl cut. He looked about fifteen, as though he might have torn himself away from a Dungeons & Dragons game, swung by the barber shop, picked up [...]
I pointed them out to you just a few weeks before you left. They were a couple–a man and woman--a few years older than us, maybe in their late forties, traipsing along the sidewalk in that odd way they had of walking–taking funny little unbalanced steps, but steps that moved them hastily along nonetheless. Neatly dressed, yet incongruous: the man [...]
For three years, I lived with the blinds that came on the windows when I’d moved in: plastic, listing, motel-room-beige blinds. While barely scraping by on a teacher’s salary, purchasing window treatments isn't a high priority. When the blinds finally collapsed, the bare windows looked so tall and bright, so pleased to have been freed-up, that I didn’t have the [...]
The Editors of Mr. Beller's Neighborhood and The Whitney Museum Invite you to a Party on Friday, November 7th. 945 Madison Avenue, at 75th Street. 6-9pm Admission to the party (and the whole museum!) is whatever you want, including free. There will be a reading featuring Phillip Lopate, Rachel Cline, and Thomas Beller. Snacks, Drinks, Doo-Dads, Door-Prizes, and an audio [...]
The air on the fourteenth floor of 1 Police Plaza is a little thick, and Captain Z. wheezes. "You’re wheezing," I say. "I am not," he says, and pulls out his asthma inhaler, shakes it, and takes a puff. His lung sounds immediately clear. It’s 4:30 on Thursday, August 14, exactly nineteen minutes after the power went out. I had [...]
Now Elle stands to demonstrate the Bunny dip— Playboy’s signature manner of serving drinks. She is all cool grace: knees together, a slight roll, the bosom strategically directed away from the customer while the Bunny tail rises. “When I got out of school in 1965,” Elle says, returning to her stool at the bar, “every job I went for: they [...]
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