Lower East Side
One sign that the Rockaways will maintain its recently attained status as a fashionable destination for hipstery types, even after Hurricane Sandy ravaged the barrier peninsula:
The days without power had drawn on long enough that, for some, new rituals, not entirely unpleasant, were suddenly about to disappear (until the next time?)
Kelly Magee, an aide to City Councilwoman Margaret Chin, who represents parts of Lower Manhattan and Chinatown, said there were some delays in getting FEMA food delivered to a dispatch center at Confucius Plaza.
"It's like Armageddon down here and people coming down to check it out, which doesn't make sense. A person at the other table came down from the Upper West Side by taxi," she said, "just to fuck around."
"A police officer came in," she recalled, "and said you need to travel home in groups and the streets aren't safe." Stone said she began to worry, since, "the police officers are saying that."
Instead of walking the three blocks with friends, Stone took a cab.
Tom Sanford spoke to me Thursday morning while standing across the street from where the works are installed, in front of a dormant rowhouse. All seven "saints" are drawn in Christian-iconography-influenced poses bearing personal symbols that resemble familiar iconography. Weegee holds a cigar and a camera, surrounded by police tape. Nearby, Charlie Parker resembles the Christ Pantocrator, substituting a saxophone for a bible and wearing a poppy to symbolize his addictions.
Daniel Holzman and Michael Chernow, two childhood friends from the Upper East Side, opened The Meatball Shop in February on Stanton Street. The concept was simple: serve a comfort-food classic on as-you-like-it plates—stuffed in sliders or heroes, or on beds of polenta or steamed vegetables, with $3 cans of beer and ice cream sandwiches to wash them down. They dressed the room with a long communal table and vintage framed photographs, a white subway tile bar stacked with wines and whiskey, and a simple wood counter and register between the dining room and the kitchen. They imagined they were creating some combination of your grandmother's dinette set, your neighborhood tavern and your local hero spot all in one place.
But keeping the doors open Thursday through Saturday until 4 a.m., originally a play for the Lower East Side's after-after-party stumblers, endeared them also to the sous chefs of neighboring restaurants who finish their shifts just a little earlier, and so a late-night foodie mecca was born; or, rather, Foursquared.
For the opening night of Love’s Labours Lost last night, the actors never had to perform around a car that hadn’t been moved in time. Yes, this has happened more than once in the years the Drilling Company has presented this summer series at the car park on the corner of Ludlow and Broome.(2)