War Against Disservice, Part 1

Sometime in the early 2000s, I experienced one of the most outrageous acts of customer disservice I have ever seen. A old friend, Jim, was visiting New York from San Francisco on business. We had been college roommates and he had lived here for a number of years. Jim loved the city, and like most, looked forward to the restaurants. My girlfriend suggested a trendy place in Chelsea, so we went.

Jim ordered a pasta dish and was served a pasta dish with seafood. Before Jim discovered the error, the waiter had run off. Jim was an experienced world traveler, very easy and accommodating. He would eat just about anything and was not a complainer. The place was very busy and rather than send the dish back, Jim just ate it.

When our check was delivered, Jim politely pointed out the mistake and asked for an adjustment of the bill. The waiter noted that Jim had eaten the entire meal and asked if he had liked it. Jim said yes. The waiter said that it was their policy that he had to pay for what he ate. We suggested we speak to the manager who said that if we had informed them of the mistake when being served, they would have replaced the dish and billed us the proper (lower) amount. But since Jim had eaten it, he stood by their policy and we had to pay the larger amount, a difference of about $3. I was OUTRAGED. But Jim paid and we left quietly.

Most restaurants would have made the adjustment and even offered a free dessert or drink. Some may even have taken the entire item off the bill. Jim was more than happy to pay for what he ordered, only asking for an adjustment. For this small amount, the management would stand on "principle" and risk their reputation. It was so petty and certainly the restaurant would still make a profit on the meal. Or perhaps the issue was that we were seen as scam artists or liars?

I have retold this story a number of times to various people and gotten a number of opinions, some defending the management. A former waitress said that a business has to guard against customer abuses, that it may get out of control. I see - so we go from the customer is always right to the customer is always suspect?

Ask the management at B&H Photo what they think. I once returned a laptop, only to learn that laptop computers are one of the few items that are not returnable. I had, however, been told originally that it was returnable. A salesperson suggested I speak to the department manager. I was reluctant to bother asking, but decided to ask before I left.

I found the manager, who asked for my receipt because it was encoded with the original salesman's ID. He went off. When the manager returned, he told me that he had found the salesman and asked him what the policy was for returning laptops. The salesman told the manager that there was a 14 day return like all other products.

Since I was misinformed, B&H was giving me full credit. He explained the reason for the policy - once used, a technician has to completely recheck a PC - software installations, hardware function, etc. The manager said that they would put the item in their used department, losing a few dollars. I felt badly, but he insisted and I was not to worry - it was their mistake.

There are also restaurants whose owners value the customer very highly. Fortunately, not all operate like that place in Chelsea. It is in some of these establishments in New York City that a small war is being fought. In Chinatown on Doyer Street, once known as the Bloody Angle owing to gang warfare, there is a man engaging in a different kind of battle. In Part 2, you will meet him and learn how he is helping to win the war against disservice :)

She's Too Tough to Care 2

Furtive glances at onlookers and passersby, foolishness thinly veiled as toughness. Packs of cigarettes going for as much as $14.50 each. Street dealers trading in "loosies" - cigarettes sold individually.

In New York City, smokers on breaks huddle in doorways and alcoves in the streets, almost like common criminals or social pariahs. The walls are closing in rapidly. Effective May 23, 2011, smoking will be banned in all parks, boardwalks, beaches, recreation centers, swimming pools and pedestrian plazas. On April 1, 2003, smoking was banned in New York State in all enclosed workplaces, including all bars and restaurants and construction sites. Even France, considered by many the last bastion of cigarette smoking, banned smoking in public places in 2007.

At one time, as opposition mounted and the negative effects of secondhand smoke were becoming known, there were debates about the freedom to smoke. There were even accolades for the joy of smoking. Empty words now. Many who have smoked (I did for a short time in college) will agree that joy neither lures people in nor keeps people habituated. The difficulty of quitting and withdrawal drives this more than anything else. Although I do not drink alcohol, and it remains a huge drug problem, a glass of wine with dinner is pleasurable and in moderation, alcohol may not be harmful.

When I was young, cigarette smoking was permitted and tolerated virtually everywhere. Even those who despised smoking and had no smokers in the household, kept ashtrays and begrudgingly allowed guests to smoke in their home or car. It was considered courteous to accommodate. There was smoking in planes, trains and doctor's offices.

Efforts to discourage youth from smoking were ineffective since this was one of the major rites of passage to adulthood and an act of defiance for the very young. Movies like He's Too Tough to Care, written comedically in an effort to be less preachy, were equally ineffectual. See She's Too Tough to Care here.

I enjoyed this New York Times headline from January 21, 1908 regarding the passage of the Sullivan Ordinance making it illegal for women to smoke outdoors:

NO PUBLIC SMOKING BY WOMEN NOW; The Sullivan Ordinance, to be Passed by the Aldermen Today, Makes It Illegal. WILL THE LADIES REBEL As the Ladies of New Amsterdam Did When Peter Stuyvesant Ordered Them to Wear Broad Flounces?

The ordinance was enforced - Katie Mulcahey was arrested on January 22 - however the law was vetoed by NYC Mayor George Brinton McClellan, Jr. two weeks after passage.

With the Sullivan Ordinance far behind us, here on Spring Street, it's another sequel to She's Too Tough to Care :)

Too Too New York

A New York comic: "Are any of you here from out of town? Yes? For those of you unfamiliar with the subway, it's an underground system of urinals connected by trains." Perhaps I should add, "patrolled by rats."

There is little that says New York like the subway system, lying just beneath the city's surface, acting as its central nervous system. Trains and train service is a highly contentious subject, often maligned and frequently praised. Its failings are many as are the reasons for the problems. One reader response to a subway article on Gothamist says:

The NYC subway system is evocative of some third-world country.

All you need are some goats and chickens in the subway cars to complete the picture.

Perhaps the most common word used in explanations regarding things that ail New York residents and visitors is TOO. Many have commented as I have over the years of how nice it would be to have subway trains with rubber tires as do many other cities. However, a transit authority spokesperson said it was not possible - too much wear and our trains are too heavy.

The enormous number of people in a non-heterogeneous mix is one of the key factors to make New York what many tout as the greatest city in the world. Of course, population size alone does not insure greatness, but it certainly is a contributing factor, providing support for a seemingly endless number of services, businesses and cultural opportunities. How else could you support the world's only 24 hour subway system? But there are numerous serious issues, not the least of which is that it is literally deafening - noise levels in the Spring Street station running the Lexington Avenue line having been measured at 105 decibels (see article here). Noise at this level for one or two minutes each day can do permanent hearing damage over time. For now, too bad.

The New York City subway is one of the world's cheapest rides. Many feel that cost and the 24/7 service trump all negative concerns. But for others, the TOOs are a deal breaker: too dirty, too loud, too hot in the summer, too dilapidated, too outdated, too smelly, too crowded, too many stairs, too confusing, too many shutdowns and reroutings and too few attended token booths. Got to go now. I hear a train coming and it's screaming TOO TOO New York :)

Christ Is Risen

It was suggested by a friend that I may want to attend, photograph and write about the Eastern Orthodox Pascha Vigil at the Cathedral of the Holy Virgin Protection located at 59 East Second Street in the East Village. He assured me it would be quite the fete and it was. The celebration begins at about 11:30 PM and typically goes on into the wee hours of the morning. I stayed only until 1AM, forgoing the later festivities.

To see a procession of an Orthodox religious group in a neighborhood that historically has been the epicenter of the counterculture for such a long time is one of New York City's great juxtapositions. However, from a much longer historical perspective, this congregation comes as a lesser surprise. Prior to the 1960s, this area was essentially the northern reaches of the Lower East Side, inhabited by a number of immigrant groups, notably Germans, Poles and Ukrainians. There are still remnants of these cultures in the populace and architecture - see Lone Voice here.

The Eastern Orthodox Easter celebration begins on Holy Saturday, i.e. the night before Pascha (Easter), where the Midnight Office is served just before midnight in darkness. At midnight, the priest censes the Holy Table and all exit the church to the streets for a crucession around one city block. In the ultimate contrast, the group passes the NYC Hell's Angels clubhouse. I understand the church stands in good stead with the Angels - one of the club members has a girlfriend who belongs to the church.

The procession returned to the front doors of the church where the chief celebrant gave the blessing for the beginning of Matins (early morning prayer). The Paschal Troparian is sung and everyone reenters the church, where all is brightly lit and exultant, with singing and plenty of Paschal greetings, Christ is risen!

The entire celebration was extremely ritualistic and formal, quite a departure from the iconoclasm and unorthodoxy found in this part of the city. The prevalence of organized religion in New York City, particularly the various orthodox sects, always comes as such a surprise. In light of urban cynicism, the large numbers of New Yorkers who are members of religious faiths is remarkable. I wrote of this in We Got Religion and Come Together.

People of all walks of life were in attendance. I put aside any critical thoughts and theological meanderings and let the good feelings of celebration wash over me as I reflected on the power of words, symbols and what it means to the men and women of this faith to say or hear Christ is Risen …

Birds of a Feather Tied Together Part 2

This is Part 2 of a two-part story. See Part 1 here.



On March 5, I attended Pratt Institute's annual juggling festival (sadly, their last). I have attended many of these over the last 36 years of business and in many ways these events are like family reunions to me - an opportunity to reconnect with many customers, some of whom I have known for decades.

This is a subculture and over the years, other subcultures allied themselves, particularly the poi and fire spinning community and most recently, hoopers - see Viktoria's Secret here and Supercute here. Many are part of the Burning Man community. The festival was held in a large gym and from time to time I would circulate, invariably meeting newcomers.

My eye was drawn to a small group where hair was being examined. I made the acquaintance of Allison Kocar (upper left photo) who, it turns out, was a customer and had been to my showroom but I had never personally met. She was engaged in conversation about her hair extensions which I found extremely striking. I learned that these were rooster feathers, dyed various colors.

I wanted to learn more and do a story. I asked her who does this type of hair installation. She knew of a couple of women. We exchanged emails and within a few days received two names. I chose to contact Masha Lunara - the name sounded intriguing. Masha was extremely receptive to my request to photograph a session. On Saturday April 16, she arranged an afternoon with six models.

Everything was set and I left for for a boutique located at 47-38 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City, Queens. I had expected a hair cutting salon, but found instead Etherea L.I.C., a clothing boutique. I was expected, I was greeted by Adriana the owner and asked if I was the photographer. Masha had called, concerned she was running a little late. No matter to me, it was a rainy day and I had set aside the afternoon.

Masha arrived, quite feathered and easily mistaken for a bird. She explained that for her, this was a spiritual process and that she typically sets up her work space as a virtual altar. Over the course of the afternoon, six women had hair extensions done. The variety of hair styles and colors ran the gamut. Decisions had to be made jointly by both the client and Masha - how many feathers and what color(s). I had full cooperation in a controlled environment, so taking photos was a pleasure. See my photo gallery here.

For some reason I had expected the environment of the hair stylist - running water, shampoo etc. However, the process involved only a few special tools and supplies - pliers for crimping, small tubular silicone coated micro links, hair clamps, a hair hook threading tool, scissors and hair clamps. Hair and a feather are slipped through the micro beads and crimped in place. They can be easily moved or removed.

Feather extensions can be washed, blow-dried, brushed or even curled. They can last up to several months. I can understand the attraction since the extensions are semi-permanent and not damaging to the hair in any way. The end result is quite natural looking and when using undyed feathers and matched to a woman's hair color, blends nicely.

Two and a half hours, the pleasant cooperation of six women and 111 photos later and I should have been satisfied, but I was curious about this rooster business. Perhaps I would be able to find a nearby rooster farm to take photos and include in this story. However, some investigation and I quickly learned that these were not ordinary rooster feathers at all. And all roads seem to lead to Whiting Farms in Delta, Colorado.

My call of inquiry was met with a very pleasant response. I did not expect to speak to the man, however I was told that Tom preferred taking these calls himself. I called the next day - Tom was extremely congenial, apologizing for not returning my call the previous evening as it was too late. He answered all my questions along with follow up emails.

Tom Whiting holds a PhD in poultry genetics. The roosters are bred specifically for the fly fisherman. The Whiting line derives from the genetic stock of early pioneers in breeding for dry flies: Hary Darbee, Andy Miner, Ted Hebert and Henry Hoffman. In 1989, Whiting purchased the Hoffman business. Birds are raised for about one year to obtain the quality needed before harvesting. Whiting Farms supplies over 650 shops worldwide. The feathers are sold as pelts. The grizzly hackle is most desired. The subject is deep and broad. If you are interested in more details, see the Whitings farm website here, a short film here. Tom Whiting supplied me with an official statement directed towards women concerned with the raising, treatment and harvesting of roosters for feathers. You can read it here.

Feather extensions are fast becoming the rage with fashionistas and Hollywood celebrities, male and female. Salons nationwide are getting into the trend and the Internet is full of dealers, supplies and videos. The demand however has resulted in a shortage of feathers, with women purchasing feathers from fishing supply shops. When visiting the Urban Angler for Part 1 of this story (see here), staff member Tony confirmed this trend at their shop with women coming in and purchasing bundles of hackles at once.

With some shops out of stock, many anglers are not pleased to be competing with the fashion industry for fine feathers. Tom Whiting takes it all in stride, anticipating that this will be a short-lived trend. But for the time being, fishermen will have to share a crowded nest with fashion and find they are Birds of a Feather Tied Together :)

Note: My thanks to the models and Masha Lunara. You can contact Masha here.

Birds of a Feather Tied Together Part 1

My father was a passionate fly fisherman. By passionate, I mean obsessed, often having to use various ruses to deflect his interest, which was, unfortunately for him, very thinly veiled. On family trips or drives, he would often point out some appealing aspect of the surrounding landscape, to which my mother would immediately comment "NO. We are not going fishing. Forget it." She had mastered these preemptive strikes long ago, having put in her time as a fisherman's widow as a young wife. She now knew all to well that in every natural setting, there is likely a stream with fish - fish who catch husbands.

I never went fishing - the trips were too early and infrequent. Always curious about this obsession, I later learned the reason for the fly fisherman's passion. My father is a quiet man and it took someone more verbal to explain it to me. Catching fish is a challenge. In some cases, there are specific fish in a lake which are legendary - so clever that they can not be caught and even go by name. In fly fishing there are skills to master, insects to study, knowing the type of fish to fish for, different conditions, flies to select and tailor to the situation and a myriad of other nuances to consider.

Fly tying of artificial flies is art and science. There is a selection of feathers, both common and exotic, other materials and tools. Some tiers invent their own fly designs. These are often coveted and shrouded in secrecy - fish can become acquainted with flies and a new or lesser used design can provide a decided edge over other fishermen. To share that design means to dilute its effectiveness. My father once invented an effective fly which he shared with a friend only to later find that it was becoming known miles away throughout Pennsylvania. Rather than see this as a personal compliment, he was furious

.

Then there is where to fish. A fly fisherman is forever on a quest for that secret place where wild fish run rampant. Of course every other fly fisherman is on the same quest. Some will travel to locations so remote that they are inaccessible except by private plane. My father tells tales of the fishing in the back woods of Maine, using a vehicle with winches to pull themselves through particularly difficult dirt roads to some particular fishing mecca. But the end result - perhaps native or wild brook trout is ample reward for the fish lover.

In the 1980s, I decided that it was time for my father to own a high quality rod and reel, so I consulted with an old college friend who was an avid outdoors man. At the time, graphite rods were coming on to the market - these were the latest and greatest thing. To see this kind of performance had previously meant a bamboo fly rod, a very expensive proposition. I was surprised to learn that my shopping needs for fly fishing could be met in midtown Manhattan at the Urban Angler, a shop renowned amongst fishing enthusiasts and aficionados worldwide.

I recently visited the Urban Angler at 206 Fifth Avenue which I had wanted to do for this website for some time. The shop was founded in 1988 by Steve and his son Jon Fisher. The staff was accommodating to my photography needs. Tony, a native from Argentina and avid fly fisherman, guided me through the shop and answered questions. The shop is quite beautiful, situated in a third floor office building, overlooking Madison Square Park.

This story, however, really has little to do with fishing. I went to Urban Angler for a very different reason. In Part 2, you will learn some secrets about an unusual and unexpected connection between people of different worlds. If you promise to keep it secret, I will show you why there are many different Birds of a Feather Tied Together :)

That Should Cover It

On Sunday, April 17, two photographer friends and I were strolling in Washington Square Park where a man suddenly appeared with an enormous leashed iguana which he proceeded to walk on the lawn. As we were taking photos, the owner became immediately hostile, demanding $3. We stopped. One of our group, however, pointed out that this was a public park and there were no restrictions regarding photography.

This was not my first encounter with someone who displayed exotic pets in the parks of New York City. In 2006, I featured a story and photos about a man with a small trio of exotic animals that he marketed as photo ops to passersby - see Snake Charmer here. I also once witnessed a large Albino Burmese Python, slithering along in Central Park - see here.

But I had suspicions regarding the iguana owner's edginess - that he might have had some concern other than losing potential modeling fees for his critter. I never did investigate the laws regarding exotic pets in the city. A quick search and I learned that housing an iguana as a pet is a violation of the New York City Health Code. There is so much rumor mongering and misinformation in life, I have decided to reprint the code here in its entirety, exactly as written, directly from the New York City government website. So here, In the spirit of Everything No, is article 161.01 - Wild Animals Prohibited:

(1) All dogs other than domesticated dogs (Canis familiaris), including, but not limited to, wolf, fox, coyote, hyena, dingo, jackal, dhole, fennec, raccoon dog, zorro, bush dog, aardwolf, cape hunting dog and any hybrid offspring of a wild dog and domesticated dog.

(2) All cats other than domesticated cats (Felis catus), including, but not limited to, lion, tiger, leopard, ocelot, jaguar, puma, panther, mountain lion, cheetah, wild cat, cougar, bobcat, lynx, serval, caracal, jaguarundi, margay and any hybrid offspring of a wild cat and domesticated cat.

(3) All bears, including polar, grizzly, brown and black bear.

(4) All fur bearing mammals of the family Mustelidae, including, but not limited to, weasel, marten, mink, badger, ermine, skunk, otter, pole cat, zorille, wolverine, stoat and ferret.

(5) All Procyonidae: All raccoon (eastern, desert, ring-tailed cat), kinkajou, cacomistle, cat-bear, panda and coatimundi.

(6) All carnivorous mammals of the family Viverridae, including, but not limited to, civet, mongoose, genet, binturong, fossa, linsang and suricate.

(7) All bats (Chiroptera).

(8) All non-human primates, including, but not limited to, monkey, ape, chimpanzee, gorilla and lemur.

(9) All squirrels (Sciuridae).

(10) Reptiles (Reptilia). All Helodermatidae (gila monster and Mexican beaded lizard); allfront-fanged venomous snakes, even if devenomized, including, but not limited to, all Viperidae (viper, pit viper), all Elapidae (cobra, mamba, krait, coral snake), all Atractaspididae (African burrowing asp), all Hydrophiidae (sea snake), all Laticaudidae (sea krait); all venomous, mid-or rear-fanged, Duvernoy-glanded members of the family Colubridae, even if devenomized; any member, or hybrid offspring of the family Boidae, including, but not limited to, the common or green anaconda and yellow anaconda; any member of the family Pythonidae, including but not limited to the African rock python, Indian or Burmese python, Amethystine or scrub python; any member of the family Varanidae, including the white throated monitor, Bosc's or African savannah monitor, Komodo monitor or dragon, Nile monitor, crocodile monitor, water monitor, Bornean earless monitor; any member of the family Iguanidae, including the green or common iguana; any member of the family Teiidae, including, but not limited to the golden, common, or black and white tegu; all members of the family Chelydridae, including snapping turtle and alligator snapping turtle; and all members of the order Crocodylia, including, but not limited to alligator, caiman and crocodile.

(11) Birds and Fowl (Aves): All predatory or large birds, including, but not limited to, eagle, hawk, falcon, owl, vulture, condor, emu, rhea and ostrich; roosters, geese, ducks and turkeys prohibited or otherwise regulated pursuant to § 161.19 of this Code, the Agriculture and Markets Law or applicable federal law.

(12) All venomous insects, including, but not limited to, bee, hornet and wasp.

(13) Arachnida and Chilopoda: All venomous spiders, including, but not limited to, tarantula, black widow and solifugid; scorpion; all venomous arthropods including, but not limited to, centipede.

(14) All large rodents (Rodentia), including, but not limited to, gopher, muskrat, paca, woodchuck, marmot, beaver, prairie dog, capybara, sewellel, viscacha, porcupine and hutia.

(15) All even-toed ungulates (Artiodactyla) including, but not limited to, deer, antelope, sheep, giraffe and hippopotamus.

(16) All odd-toed ungulates (Perissodactyla) other than domesticated horses (Equus caballus), including, but not limited to, zebra, rhinoceros and tapir.

(17) All marsupials, including, but not limited to, Tasmanian devil, dasyure, bandicoot, kangaroo, wallaby, opossum, wombat, koala bear, cuscus, numbat and pigmy, sugar and greater glider.

(18) Sea mammals (Cetacea, Pinnipedia and Sirenia), including, but not limited to, dolphin, whale, seal, sea lion and walrus.

(19) All elephants (Proboscides).

(20) All hyrax (Hydracoidea).

(21) All pangolin (Pholidota).

(22) All sloth and armadillo (Edentata).

(23) Insectivorous mammals (Insectivora): All aardvark (Tubildentata), anteater, shrew, otter shrew, gymnure, desman, tenrec, mole and hedge hog.

(24) Gliding lemur (Dermoptera).

I think that should cover it :)

Six Geese a-Laying

Not so long ago, only in the early 1990s, when walking through SoHo, I would see large bales of rags with the streets littered with small remnants. I would often pickup a piece, examine it and postulate as to its composition and history. A little known fact about SoHo is that for a time it was known as the rags, woolens and remnants district.

SoHo was also a manufacturing district and an absolute ghost town during the evenings and weekends. So extraordinary, owing to the fact that it was centrally located and circumscribed by Greenwich Village, Little Italy, Chinatown and Canal Street. You can read about my first acquaintance with the terms "loft" and "SoHo" in my story Cast Iron Stomach. Given its cast-iron architecture and location, the rapid development and gentrification of SoHo comes as no surprise.

But one of the most startling encounters, an anomaly even for that time, was a fully operational blow molding factory making dolls on the ground floor at Mercer and Prince Streets, now occupied by the Mercer Hotel, an upscale boutique hotel. When passing by in the morning, I would often jump up on a standpipe or on the ground floor window ledge to peer into the windows which had been masked in the lower portions. I was just fascinated to see dolls popping out of blow molding machines. This is one of my strongest memories of SoHo - such a contrast to today's environment, that I often replay those memories just to ensure their veracity. I wish I had photos for you and I, but alas, I do not.

Sans Fanelli Cafe, there was no retail. Even ground floor spaces were used for commercial/industrial purposes - unthinkable today with the high rents. So to see two girls carrying six Bloomingdale's shopping bags between them and one girl shouldering a Louis Vuitton bag* while carrying a cup of coffee from Dean and Deluca was a jolt, both as a flagrant act of conspicuous consumption as well as a memory jog of how SoHo has changed.

I have often joked that we should make Christmas a perennial holiday, since advertising and shopping begin earlier each year. Here, however, the hordes on the streets of SoHo are often virtually indistinguishable from the huddled masses we expect during the holiday season. One of my first reactions was that these bags did not look full at all and that the contents could easily have been consolidated into fewer bags. But, perhaps these girls just started Christmas shopping a little early and in the bottoms of their sacks, we would find Six Geese a-Laying :)

* Yes, I realize in all likelihood this bag is a fake, easily procured in the vicinity of Chinatown. Not many are willing to spend $1000 plus for the genuine article.

Aspiring Rebel

In a city as large as New York, we are blessed with many nerds and a number of obsessed New Yorkers with a passion for the minutiae of city life. I say blessed, because how else would you learn about the horrors of certain trains using mixed fonts in the Do Not Lean on Door signs? The primary font in the subway system is Helvetica - see Train of Thought, my story of June 9, 2010, about subway fonts and other obsessions, such as H I K O P T U X Y.

It was noticed by some, however, that there were a number of trains where signs were actually using a mixture of fonts. Apparently, the possible dangers of falling out of trains or any other obvious reasons for not leaning on (and blocking) subway doors is secondary to the nuances of typography. In a 2009 Gothamist article about this discovery, a war of words in the comments section reveals this gem:

I noticed these when the R160s were new. I wanted to take my copy of Massimo Vignelli's 1970 New York City Transit Authority Graphics Standards Manual and thwack someone over the head with it, but that wouldn't be a good idea since I might damage a valuable book.

Regulations like Do Not Lean on Door mean very little in New York City. Often, all available seating is taken and with trains lurching, leaning, and stopping abruptly, riders who are standing need to stabilize themselves. Holding onto vertical or overhead poles for extended periods is tiring. Leaning against exit doors becomes a preferred resting spot for many, with each individual door just right for one person. The eight doors (4 pairs per car) become coveted spots.

Like jaywalking, these regulations are virtually never enforced. The signs do provide many functions however - a good opportunity for study of fonts, a record of unenforced policies, a clean surface to lean against, a chance to display requisite New York City Street Cred and attitude, and an opportunity for the less courageous for an act of defiance which will assuredly go unpunished. A sign and siren for the amateur lawbreaker and Aspiring Rebel :)

Cookies in the Afternoon

What are the chances of finding an object whose function it is to apportion chances? I found this die sitting on a park bench, crying out to be photographed. The six outcomes seemed to speak well to chances of success in life, although it did not weigh the outcomes to accurately reflect the chances of success and failure in New York City.

I was once speaking to a friend of an employee in my office. He appeared to be quite irritated and frustrated by my outlook relative to his. He apparently was steeped in workshops and readings which promoted ideas of positive thinking and affirmations. But, in spite of a positive outlook, success for him was Outlook Negative. On the other hand, he saw me as being rather negative, but my die was turning up Outlook Positive.

I explained that I was actually a very enthusiastic person, tenacious and optimistic, but with, however, a very strong dosage of realism. I don't believe in spending time using positive affirmations - saying it does not make it so and as everyone has heard, the road to success is paved with failure. The real estate at the top is very crowded, despite the disingenuous messages of the late night self help and get rich quick evangelists that buying their product will insure success - It Is Certain. After receiving it, any reasonable person will see that it Cannot Be Certain. When it comes to predictives of success, we live in a world of Insufficient Data or Data Error and the only solution is to Retry.

Immigrants and transplants to New York City are risk takers by nature. However, although I have had a history of perhaps taking more risk than others, I never liked it and often dreamed of a lifestyle with less risk. I had a very insightful conversation with a woman with whom I was discussing my aversion to risk - that I had been self-employed my entire life, yet the inherent uncertainty of being in business in New York City was always somewhat stressful to me. In response, she made a very poignant remark about how I reminded her of her husband who had once said: "I should have been a baker. You buy your sugar and flour in the morning and sell cookies in the afternoon."

As attractive as this pearl of wisdom may appear, in New York City, becoming a baker may minimize potential loss, but will not guarantee success. The demise of iconic bakeries, Vesuvio and Zito makes abundantly clear what every business owner knows. There are many elements to business success, and minimizing inventory with high turnover is only part of the equation. There's fierce competition, startup costs, changing tastes and in the city, extremely high rents. It's still a roll of the dice, because it will takes lots of customers and no matter how much or little sugar and flour you buy in the morning, you may never sell enough cookies in the afternoon :)

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire

March 25, 2011 was the 100th anniversary date of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the deadliest industrial disaster in the history of New York City (and fourth largest in the United States.) There were 146 deaths. The immigrant garment workers died as a result of being trapped in the fire or by jumping to their deaths.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory occupied the 8th, 9th and 10th floors of the 10-story Asch Building at 23-29 Washington Place, now known as the Brown Building, owned by New York University and used for their biology and chemistry departments (upper left photo). The building is designated as both a New York City landmark and a National Historic Landmark.

The factory employed approximately 500 workers, primarily women, in the manufacture of shirtwaists*. The workweek was 6 days, nine hours on weekdays and 7 hours on Saturday. At 4:40 Pm on Saturday March 25, 1911, a fired started in a scrap bin on the 8th floor. A bookkeeper contacted the 10th Floor where the owners, Max Blanck and Isaac Harris were located. The worker who received the call on the 10th Floor never hung up the phone, preventing anyone from alerting the 9th Floor where 250 workers were present. The spread of fire was rapid - within 30 minutes, fire had swept through the floor and only a small number were able to escape via elevator. It is believed that exit doors were locked. Some burned while others jumped to their death while onlookers watched helpless below. Firetrucks had appeared on the scene in minutes, but ladders were only able to reach the 6th Floor.

The company owners, who had manage to survive by fleeing to the roof of the building were indicted on charges of manslaughter. They were acquitted but later lost a civil suit in 1913 with the plaintiffs winning $75 per deceased victim.

This landmark industrial disaster led to changes in national laws, particularly regarding improved factory safety standards and working conditions. There are many more details and stories regarding the fire, the victims, families, labor laws and immigration from that time period. See a New York Times article here with links to many other articles on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire ...

*From the New York Times:

Triangle was one of the nation’s largest makers of high-collar blouses that were part of the shirtwaist style, a sensible fusion of tailored shirt and skirt. Designed for utility, the style was embraced at the turn of the century by legions of young women who preferred its hiked hemline and unfettered curves to the confining, street-sweeping dresses that had hobbled their mothers and aunts.

Really? Like What?

This place was a real eye-opener for me. I have been by this rather nondescript retail shop for over a decade with nary a thought. Two things drew me to investigate. One is that it is a retail game shop surviving in 2011. There have been others in the Village, but all are now long gone. Two, there always appeared to be a large gathering of customers socializing and/or playing. Peering inside, it appeared that this was some sort of fantasy game environment, ala Dungeons and Dragons. And it is.

One second in the Game Workshop and it is immediately clear you have entered a world with passionate participants. The cultish feeling was not new to me - in High School, I was a player of both chess, the strategic board games of Avalon Hill and Wffn Proof. The games attracted the nerd crowd, which according to my sister, I was clearly a member of. However, a close friend and fellow game player from those years recently pointed out to me that I had girlfriends (who were not nerds) - I am not sure if that disqualifies me from full membership in nerdom.

The camaraderie of Games Workshop had the feel of the chess world - indulgence, extreme focus and lively banter - the conversation here was dominated by analysis and commentary on military capabilities of other countries and what-ifs. I was very surprised to learn about the history of this company. Founded in 1975 in the UK, there are now over 380 stores in 19 countries worldwide with thousands more that sell their products. The British based corporation is traded on the London Stock Exchange. Yearly revenues are in excess of $200 million.

I found this statement from their website:

A hobby is something people make time for. It is not a pass-time and therefore not usually analogous to watching TV or playing computer games. In our case, as with most hobbies, it involves commitment, collection, craft or manual skills and imagination. Someone who is involved in the Games Workshop Hobby collects large numbers of miniatures, paints them, modifies them, builds terrain and war games with them in our imaginary universe. This involves huge amounts of time.

Games Workshop Hobbyists play war games with large numbers of metal or plastic miniatures they have carefully chosen and, usually, painstakingly painted, on a table top face to face with their friends. It is a social and convivial activity loved by Hobbyists the world over.

The game involves a lot of activity rather than passivity - making and decorating figures, creating playing space and learning the daunting amount of information and rules. Much like fantasy role playing games like Dungeons and Dragons, the games become an alternate world.

I asked the sales staff if they minded I take photos. The response was essentially No Problema and I was already feeling this was another place with a policy of No Negativity. I stayed for some time watching the game playing and work, chatting with the sales staff to get some insight into this world. Game Workshop provides free space for customers to paint their figures and also play their signature proprietary games - Warhammer, Warhammer 40,000 and the newer Lord of the Rings. The wall space displays merchandise for sale - all the various figure model sets and also the voluminous manuals and magazines like their own, White Dwarf. I was told that the shop at 54 East 8th Street is the only store in the Northeast and is one of the largest revenue grossing operations in the United States.

There are worse ways to spend time than to be actively involved in a social activity and strategic game playing requiring a skill, memory and imagination. I think the entire experience drew out the nerd deep inside because my first reaction to this place was: These "boys" (and girls) are too old to be playing with toys. They have too much time on their hands. There are much better things to do with one's time. However, I found myself answering Really? Like What? :)

Irony Candy

For an insightful view into the soul of New York City, turn to its comics. If their material really resonates with you, then you're a New Yorker, if not by address, then in spirit. Some, like Woody Allen, are virtual spokespeople for all that is New York. Shows like Seinfeld capture the essence of city life, right down to the minutiae. One of my favorite New York City comics is Todd Barry. His has a brilliant, understated style, characterized with the necessary ingredients - smug indifference, cynicism, skepticism, sarcasm. Todd effectively illustrates the irony of the high priced accoutrement of defiance in a routine about Kmart coming to New York City:

Some New Yorkers were pissed off when Kmart came to town. They were outside the store protesting. They didn't even know what to say. They were like, 'Down with Kmart and their merchandise that people can afford. Down with Kmart and their 300 gallon drum of laundry detergent for 99 cents. Why don't you go take your good values to another town?' Let's turn that building into a vintage clothing store. The kind that sells used Kmart shirts for $700.

I had a similar insight in the early 1970s when I saw Jefferson Airplane at the Fillmore East. They were singing one of their popular hits about revolution, Volunteers. Somehow it seemed hypocritical or perhaps to be a bit nicer about it, filled with apparent contradiction. This group had money - limos, mansions, etc. and their lifestyle did not seem to bespeak of those revolting against the world order and materialism. But when the spokesperson is generally perceived as cool, they can get away with a lot of contradiction. On April 8, 2008, I wrote a story called Unguent, about the effects of money: "Money is like an unguent and when applied liberally, it usually is absorbed readily with predictable effects. It doesn't appear that one has to rub the salve that hard or long to take off most edges."

We see that irony replayed here at Search and Destroy at 25 St. Marks Place, with underground, subculture and vintage punk clothing and goods being sold for a king's ransom. Whether a shopper sees irony or not with merchandise priced as luxury items and taglines like "chaotic and anarchy" or "dangerous clothing store", explains the wildly disparate ratings at a site like Yelp.com that go from 1 to 5 stars. Many bristle at what they consider outrageous pricing and others appreciate the merchandise, some apparently difficult to find.

I have zero knowledge regarding the products I saw there - it was primarily eye candy for me. Or perhaps we should say, Irony Candy :)

Let's Share a Drum

Have you ever been seasick? My first experience with this was a return ferry ride of two hours from Nantucket. We had rough seas at night and I quickly became very queasy. I had only one thought - get me off this boat. Being at the lower level with odors of fuel was not helpful so I decided to move to the rear and go outside. Here I found a man with his girlfriend - she was in a similar, but more advanced state.

I was surprised to learn that he was a Norwegian sailor, so at least I had the benefit of well seasoned companionship. He invited me to join his girlfriend who now had her head over a 55 gallon drum serving as a garbage can. I had nothing against her, but the prospect of both of our heads in the same oil drum was not what I had in mind, because I was not really ready to vomit - I was holding on at all costs.

Our sailor could sense this and gave me advice that made a lasting impression. He said that the key to this situation was DONT FIGHT IT. GO WITH THE BODY. He repeated this many times. No, I don't want to go with the body. I don't want to vomit - I hate that feeling. Forget it.

He elaborated, repeated and also informed me that eventually, being sick at sea catches up with every sailor. This surprised me. He said given enough time and extreme weather conditions, every sailor has his day. This was my day and I was not enjoying it at all. I can still hear him with a Norwegian accent - go with the body.

His admonition however, seemed well suited outside the world of sailing, seasickness, nausea and vomiting. Go with the body was tantamount to the old adage, go with the flow. Many unpleasantries are worsened by resisting circumstances beyond one's CONTROL. This is the secret to dealing with stress in New York City - rush hour crowds, horrendous traffic, long lines, etc. Visitors, often coming from the suburbs where the logistics of life are easier, are perplexed at how New Yorkers can tolerate the stress of the city. The key is not just to pick your battles but not to engage in battle at all. Don't' fight it - go with the flow.

I dislike rainy days like today. I find them so dreary and rather than embrace them, like the nauseous seafarer, I fight them, hoping and waiting for signs of clearing, wishing for the sun to peek through. But here, as elsewhere, rain can be comforting. It can be an opportunity to refocus and participate in things better suited to a rainy day. Stay indoors to work on some overdue projects. Relax and read, go online, watch a movie or TV. Perhaps dress appropriately, go out and enjoy the glistening city. When seasick, don't fight it, go with the body. In New York City, don't fight it, go with the flow. And if we find ourselves together, let's share a drum :)

Related Post: Landlubber

They Are a-Changin'

I grew up in a quite conservative New England environment - a place and a time where homosexuality was completely invisible. However, once moving to New York City in 1969 and settling in Greenwich Village, I was immediately exposed to a relatively open world of gays. At first, it was shocking and a little unsettling. See my story No Red Faces here. However, in a short time, I was educated at Sidewalk University and came to see homosexuality as just a fact of life, a part of the human condition, across cultures and going back as long as humans have been on planet earth. My education came from many sources, including association with gays and my employment of a number of gay individuals in my business. What is puzzling is the continuing hostility towards gays and the struggle for gay rights.

Anyone exposed to members of the gay community knows that the breadth of personalities mirrors that in the straight community. Yes, there are gays who are quite outlandish in their dress and manner, however, just examining the stories in the website alone should be ample evidence that the flamboyant is not the exclusive domain of either the gay or straight community. The annual gay parade, like any parade, is self selective - many parade participants will be that small number who are more exhibitionistic by nature. I would hope the straight community is not judged by the drunken revelry found in the annual Santacon.

However, even at this juncture in time in New York City, I still see a fair amount of polarization of the straight and gay communities with minimal involvement of one group within the other. Some are concerned, and rightly so, that being an advocate of one lifestyle implies hostility towards the other. The small group of marchers who met in Washington Square Park on Sunday, Straight without Hate, were a new twist on sexual orientation advocacy.

In my own large extended family, we have, like most, learned over recent years of a number of gays. Only one cousin has been open with me about this. The last I spoke to him, he had moved to Manhattan. The rest still live in a shroud of secrecy and embarrassment with quiet gossip. Sad, as I am sure this is stressful and a heavy cross to bear for them, their families and friends.
No reason to resist, because as always, the times they are a-changin' ...

Fifth Anniversary

NAVIGATION NOTE: Each of the images below is linked to the original posting.



New York Daily Photo started on March 17, 2006 - there have been 1487 postings to date.
As in the previous four anniversaries (see links below), I have put together a collage of 48 photos from the last 12 months, featuring many favorite postings of mine and visitors to this site. I have assembled a wide a spectrum of photos in keeping with the spirit of this website - street life, festivals, architecture, special people, food, vistas, music, nature, local businesses, the unusual, the lesser known and the whimsical.
I have increasingly woven more personal stories and unique experiences from my life both here and outside of New York into my writings, with this site becoming not only a guide to New York City but also a place to share the view from my window. Thanks to all of you for visiting and reading :)

Anniversary Postings: First Anniversary, Second Anniversary, Third Anniversary, Fourth Anniversary.

Dot My I

Poor surfaces. So often maligned. One should always look below the surface. See what lies beneath the surface because there is more than what meets the eye. On the surface of it, beauty is only skin deep.

Sometimes we love a surface - so smooth and shiny. It may be important to restore the surface, polish the surface or resurface.

Most of the world we see is surface. We admire and appreciate it, yet if we learn that what lies beneath the surface is somehow less than we expected, we are disappointed and it diminishes the surface itself.

New York City is a place of buildings, so we have lots and lots of large surfaces, looming over us daily. Here at 101 Park Avenue is a 49 story, 629 foot skyscraper. Eli Attia Architects designed the building, completed in 1982. It is the 64th tallest in New York.

Park Avenue and 41st Street is prime real estate, only steps from Grand Central Terminal. The building has its own Wikipedia page and has been used in film and television - in the 1990 film Gremlins 2, in Seinfeld as the site of George Costanza's office and as Dudley Moore's office in the film Crazy People. It affords, as would be expected, spectacular views. You can see a gallery of photos of the building here.

Uniquely shaped, strikingly positioned at 45 degrees to the street grid and glistening with reflective glass, 101 Park Avenue makes an impressive statement on the Manhattan skyline. The day I photographed it, there was an evening moon strategically located. Looking up at that surface, everything was so perfectly placed in a scene of urban penmanship, not forgetting while I crossed the streets to dot my I :)

Down to the Cellular Level

A friend once so aptly said: everything is a competition, right down to the cellular level. All is poised, the net result of competing forces. In the world of physics, chemistry and biology it makes so much sense. In the world of human/animal relations however, it's often a bitter pill to swallow and I don't really like the idea much better than anyone else. I always hate seeing that springbok losing to the lioness.

I don't like to see everything as a contest, however I don't believe things can really be win-win either. Resources are limited, particularly money and time, so how can everyone win? Or win as much as they would like. I hate to say it, but life feels like a zero-sum game. Whether it is shopping, dating prospects, jobs, admission to a great college, sports, games, vacation choices, ranking in your class, what you will read, the blogs you visit, what you will do with your spare time or who you will call, choosing something is not choosing something else. We are besieged with unending decisions and we must choose (or be chosen) from the competing options.

I am a competitive person by nature and so my worldview is tainted by wearing those glasses. I do love working with a team, but honestly I work best when the team is on my side. I am a poor loser so I avoid direct competition as much as possible, particularly contests I know I will likely lose. I did not know growing up that I was a biggish fish in a small pond. Like many, I had a lot to learn about the size of fish and ponds.

I came to New York City in 1969. At that time, this city was the best to me - the biggest, fastest and most amazing place I could imagine. It had the most and best of everything - restaurants, buildings, people, opportunities, culture, money, street life, intellectual stimulation, merchants. As far as places go, it won the contest and I wanted to be with the winner.

Of course I have learned much over the years - the merits of other places and other cities, the relative meaning of best and that New York City is not the end all and be all. Even in the realm of cities, it is arguable whether New York is the greatest city in the world. Places like Paris eclipse New York in many ways.

Some tire of the urban grind (see Dwanna, Duffy and I Know). Most of my friends, many born in the city, have left and with no regrets. There are quality of life issues here - so many things that are undeniably easier and better in the country, suburbs or smaller cities. For most, even if they have the means, New York will always be the stereotypical "it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there."

New York City is not for the faint of heart. The stakes are higher, the costs are greater, competition much fiercer and the penalty for failure more severe. New York City is a magnet, attracting some of the world's best competitors, from gladiators in the ring right down to the cellular level...

Photo Note: New York City is not usually thought of as a city with a plethora of cathedrals and churches, as is Europe. However, surprisingly, New York City is home to the world's largest church - the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. This photo was taken from the rear. You can see more photos of the interior and the story here.