Living with Legends: Hotel Chelsea Blog

New Hotel with Glennon's Name Written All Over It

There's a new hotel on the horizon and it seems like the perfect place for Glennon Travis to continue his hotel management career now that he has gained some valuable experience here at the Chelsea.  They're already touting the fact that Edie Sedgwick was a former guest!

Price Slashing

BD hotels continue to slash the room rates at the Chelsea.  We hear that the Hampton Inn in Times Square is currently the only place with lower rates than the Chelsea. Meanwhile, minority shareholder Marlene Krauss's penthouse is still on the market at its original asking price of $4.7 million.  No price chopping for Marlene.  Surely somebody wants to be Marlene's neighbor!

DeNiro & Drukier Make Fools of New Yorkers on April 1st

38.9 million in tax-free Liberty Bonds: that’s what we’re giving Robert DeNiro and Ira Drukier for the privilege of looking up at their new luxury hotel from the street.  I was under the impression that these Liberty Bonds were for rebuilding ground zero – rather than for screwing up Tribeca.  According to DeNiro, the Greenwich Hotel, set to open on April 1, will be “…a place for people whose sense of home combines sophisticiation and authenticity.” The hotel features duplex suites with 30-feet skylights and chef kitchens and a Shibui Spa with a lantern-lit pool.  Shibui Spa?!  What the hell?! Most authentic “New Yorkers” don’t even know what that shit is – though we know damn well we’re not invited.  And our “sense of home” generally involves the concept that money-grubbers such as Drukier refrain from forcing us out into the street. (as he’s doing at the Chelsea Hotel). In what passes for a free-market economy, can’t DeNiro & Drukier pay their own way? (Photo: Newyorkology.com)

Dan Peckham Sets Us Straight on the New Anti-Harassment Law

Last week the city council passed a bill making it possible for tenants to sue landlords for harassment in Housing Court.  Great, I thought, at least it’s a step in the right direction – and I didn’t bother to think about it further.  But then I ran into Dan Peckham, “NYC Real Estate Legend” on the street Saturday and he set me straight.  He pointed out that tenants have always been able to sue for harassment at the DHCR,  (Here's the form) and that furthermore, it still puts the burden on the tenant (the city, by itself, is still not going to go after harassing landlords).  And even if the tenant wins, he still doesn’t get anything!  The city gets the money from the pitifully small ($1,000 - $5,000) fine, which in any event is not enough to deter the landlord, who often stands to make millions, from further acts of harassment.  As fanaticial as he sometimes sounds, Dan is generally right about these things.

Basically the law (Local Law No. 7) "creates a violation for harassment in and of itself, providing a new layer of protection for renters in New York City.  Some of the actions that qualify as harassment under this legislation include: using force or making threats against a lawful occupant, repeated or prolonged interruptions of essential services, using frivolous court proceedings to disrupt a tenant’s life or force an eviction, removing the possessions of a lawful tenant, removing doors or damaging locks to a unit, or any other acts designed to disturb a lawful occupant’s residence.  The law also prevents similar actions by third parties working on the landlord’s behalf."

Steel Plates Forged in Satan’s Oven:Threaten to Snuff Out Creative Lifeforce of the Chelsea

Could it be part of Born and Drukier’s diabolical plot to deprive us all of the last shreds of our already tenuous sanity?  The cars rattle by, one by one, like fully-loaded freight cars over a rickety old railroad bridge.  Minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour, the cars roll by, clackety clackety clack over the steel plates as my patience flows out like sand from the (blasted, noisy) hourglass of the days of my life.

Am I making any sense at all at this point?  On Saturday we were awakened early in the morning by construction crews jack-hammering up the pavement.  Oh well, it is New York; time to get up anyway.  The racket went on all day.  Still, about standard.  But the workers left the road torn up, the long hole—stretching from 8^th Avenue to the hotel--covered by a hastily placed series of steel plates.  And they haven’t been back since.

            One sleepless night was bad enough, but that second one was torture, and as I write this we are bunkering down for a third!  We’ve called 311 repeatedly, as have any number of hotel residents and others on the street.  We listened incredulously to their response: “we’ll send somebody to look at it in 10 days” (!!!!!)

Now, we’re no fools.  We know they can secure those steel plates better than that.  Better yet, maybe they can get back to work and finish up whatever it is they’re doing.

Our only suggestion to those of you who are suffering with us: Call 311 again if you haven’t already, and keep calling.  That’s the only solution I can think of.  Perhaps someone else knows another place to call and complain (like, whatever city department they are from).  If so, don’t hold back on our account.

All joking aside, this has got to be bad for BD as well.  An unsuspecting tourist checked into the room right next to us this afternoon—looked like a businessman—and all I could think was, oh you poor soul, you have no idea what’s in store for you.  He’s probably from someplace quiet like Kansas too,   He’ll no doubt be down at the front desk at 2 in the morning asking to be moved to a room on the back of the hotel.  And if he doesn’t get it he’ll be asking for his money back.  You can’t rent somebody a hotel room where it’s impossible to sleep.

So what about it, Born and Drukier?  You guys are some real big shots and high rollers and all.  Can’t you grease some palms or call in some favors or something?

In conclusion—literally--does anyone in the hotel have a revolver?  I’ll generously spring for the ammunition, since I know we’re all going to be ready to blow our brains out before the sun rises again over our fair 23^rd Street. -- Ed Hamilton

Peckham Battles On:Case That Could Set Precedent in Gut-Demolition Issue is Argued

Arguments were heard Friday (2/15/08) in Landlord Larry Tauber’s appellate court case against tenant Daniel Peckham.  Tauber’s lawyer came out first thing and started bitching about how her client had to hold up his construction plans just because of this one tenant, but the judges quickly silenced her, directing her to focus on the issue at hand.  What the case was really about was whether or not gut renovation (at Peckham’s building, and in general, since the case may set a precedent), which tenant activists characterize as “phony demolition” fits the DHCR’s standards for permissible demolition.  (Gut renovation has become popular of late as a way for landlords to try to get rid of rent-stabilized tenants) The DHCR had decided that it did, and then the State Supreme Court had ruled that the DHCR needed to revisit that decision, and in the present case Tauber was arguing that the original determination should hold.

            Tauber’s lawyer argued that the DHCR had a clear standard in place stating that demolition did not have to involve taking down the exterior walls of a building, that if you could stand in the basement and look up at the sky that constituted demolition under the DHCR rules.  Judges asked if it was not permissible for the DHCR to revise it’s standards, perhaps in response to the overheated real estate situation, and Tauber’s lawyer said it wasn’t fair to do so midstream in Tauber’s project.

            Both Peckham’s lawyer, Stewart W. Lawrence, and the DHCR lawyer argued that the DHCR should get the case back so that they could clarify their standard as to whether or not gut-renovation constituted actual demolition.  Judges pointed out that the DHCR seemed to have been comfortable with the “stand-in-the-basement-and-look-at-the-sky” standard, and asked whether or not this seeming change of heart on the part of the DHCR had anything to do with the recent gubernatorial election, in which the democrat Eliot Spitzer replaced the outgoing republican Pataki.  The DHCR lawyer said no, but that they now intended to be more proactive in articulating their standards in this and other issues.

            It was difficult to tell which way the case will go.  Although the Judges didn’t seem to think it was necessarily too late for the DHCR to change its standard in Tauber’s case, one of them saying that, actually, the decision was still ongoing as it worked its way through the courts, they seemed to bristle at the suggestion that political ideology might be influencing the DHCR to revisit cases that had already been decided.  But one of the judges asked why the DHCR couldn’t just use the cases before it presently to articulate its standard as to what constitutes demolition, which seems to suggest that even if Tauber wins this case it won’t necessarily constitute a precedent for future gut-renovations.

At one point one of the judges briefly brought up the subsidiary issue of Tauber’s financial fitness to complete the renovations of the building.  Though his lawyer assured the judge that Tauber had satisfied the requirements, Tauber has been losing hundreds of thousands of dollars a year in rents simply because he refuses to settle with Peckham.  The decision in this case will take two to five months to complete, during which time Tauber will lose even more money, and perhaps by that point his financial situation really will become relevant. -- Ed Hamilton

Arguments were heard Friday (2/15/08) in Landlord Larry Tauber’s appellate court case against tenant Daniel Peckham.  Tauber’s lawyer came out first thing and started bitching about how her client had to hold up his construction plans just because of this one tenant, but the judges quickly silenced her, directing her to focus on the issue at hand.  What the case was really about was whether or not gut renovation (at Peckham’s building, and in general, since the case may set a precedent), which tenant activists characterize as “phony demolition” fits the DHCR’s standards for permissible demolition.  (Gut renovation has become popular of late as a way for landlords to try to get rid of rent-stabilized tenants) The DHCR had decided that it did, and then the State Supreme Court had ruled that the DHCR needed to revisit that decision, and in the present case Tauber was arguing that the original determination should hold.

            Tauber’s lawyer argued that the DHCR had a clear standard in place stating that demolition did not have to involve taking down the exterior walls of a building, that if you could stand in the basement and look up at the sky that constituted demolition under the DHCR rules.  Judges asked if it was not permissible for the DHCR to revise it’s standards, perhaps in response to the overheated real estate situation, and Tauber’s lawyer said it wasn’t fair to do so midstream in Tauber’s project.

            Both Peckham’s lawyer, Stewart W. Lawrence, and the DHCR lawyer argued that the DHCR should get the case back so that they could clarify their standard as to whether or not gut-renovation constituted actual demolition.  Judges pointed out that the DHCR seemed to have been comfortable with the “stand-in-the-basement-and-look-at-the-sky” standard, and asked whether or not this seeming change of heart on the part of the DHCR had anything to do with the recent gubernatorial election, in which the democrat Eliot Spitzer replaced the outgoing republican Pataki.  The DHCR lawyer said no, but that they now intended to be more proactive in articulating their standards in this and other issues.

            It was difficult to tell which way the case will go.  Although the Judges didn’t seem to think it was necessarily too late for the DHCR to change its standard in Tauber’s case, one of them saying that, actually, the decision was still ongoing as it worked its way through the courts, they seemed to bristle at the suggestion that political ideology might be influencing the DHCR to revisit cases that had already been decided.  But one of the judges asked why the DHCR couldn’t just use the cases before it presently to articulate its standard as to what constitutes demolition, which seems to suggest that even if Tauber wins this case it won’t necessarily constitute a precedent for future gut-renovations.

At one point one of the judges briefly brought up the subsidiary issue of Tauber’s financial fitness to complete the renovations of the building.  Though his lawyer assured the judge that Tauber had satisfied the requirements, Tauber has been losing hundreds of thousands of dollars a year in rents simply because he refuses to settle with Peckham.  The decision in this case will take two to five months to complete, during which time Tauber will lose even more money, and perhaps by that point his financial situation really will become relevant. -- Ed Hamilton

Blogging Loot From New Orleans

At last this blogging is starting to pay off!  We arrived home the other day to find yet another suspicious package awaiting us at the front desk.  (The last one was an origami unicorn laced in anthrax!)  But we could see into this one so we weren’t too worried. It contained some delicious New Orleans coffee and Pralines, and beads freshly caught at this year's Mardi Gras. The generous gifter writes:

I lived in Manhattan twenty years ago, and though I never stayed at the Chelsea, I was enamored of her history and mystique. It’s heartbreaking to think of her becoming just another bright, soulless box.  We’re very much enjoying our stay – coming from New Orleans, we have a definite appreciation for the beauty of decay.

So thanks, kindred spirits from New Orleans, for the gifts, and more importantly for your support of the Chelsea. We know how you are having your own problems back home, and so it’s doubly kind of you to think of us.  All of us around here will do our best to take care of the Hotel so it retains its charm for your next visit. -- Ed Hamilton

Dystopia Trumps Disney:Cindy Gallop’s Blade Runner Party

A few weeks ago we received a suspicious package at the Chelsea.  A large envelope with no return address, we opened it cautiously.  Inside was a silver origami unicorn encased in a plastic box.  “Undo me” the label demanded.  No way, we said, figuring it was probably a stink bomb of some sort, at best, and at worst it was laced with anthrax.  We tossed it in the trash.

            A couple of days later we found out that it had been an invitation to Cindy Gallop’s futuristic theme party (L.A. in 2019) in her huge apartment across the street at the old Y.  (She was nice enough to send us another invitation: it looked better before I unfolded it and then tried to fold it back.)

After this inauspicious beginning we breathed a sigh of relief, knowing things couldn’t possibly get any worse.  Entering through the basement lobby, which has finally been renovated, we rode the elevator up to the black lacquer, art-and-taxidermy stuffed “Den of Cin” and ran into Cindy first thing.  She wore a striking leather bustier, giving her the look of an atavistic post nuclear S&M High priestess.  Perhaps she came up with the idea for the party so she could wear the stunning outfit, though it appealed to me as more Mad Max than Blade Runner.  Or maybe something out of the pagan version of A Canticle for Lebowitz.  Why walk, indeed!

Most people were about like us: oh this shirt or this dress looks kind of futuristic.  (Like Rohit and Lizzie, the British couple who were staying in the Madonna “Sex” room, and with whom we walked across the street to the party.) One guy wore a plastic silver lame jacket we had seen the week before in American Apparel.  A woman in a pink skirt simply put a tin-foil bow in her hair; her date wrapped foil around his wrist.  Several women dressed up like the “replicant” played by Daryl Hanna in Blade runner—going to various lengths to replicate the look.  Five men showed up in orange prison jump suits (go figure), while another, bafflingly, had attired himself as a cowboy.  At least nobody showed up as Snow Fucking White or the Lion King (though that’s probably much closer to the future we will have to endure).

Due to racy accounts of past Cindy Gallop parties, we were looking forward to seeing the waiters prancing around with loins girded solely in Y towels.  On this night, however, they were merely shirtless.  (Though very buff: Debbie thinks they were running down to David Barton’s gym to do a few reps between carrying out plates of hors d’oevres.)  This sets a bad precedent, certainly; who wants to live in a future where waiters are allowed to keep their pants on?

We partied as if an asteroid were on course to vaporize our planet by dawn.  (Now there’s a future I could “live” with: why don’t the developers just nuke the whole city instead of agonizingly chopping us up knuckle by knuckle and joint by joint?)

Those of you who have been following Legends for a bit know that we met Cindy after I criticized her apartment on the blog (actually, I confess, more for its very existence in the old Y building than for its artistic/design shortcomings), and so I was kind of worried that one or another of her friends might recognize me and punch me in the nose.  Mainly they said, “Hey, you’re the guy in that movie with Cindy.” But sure enough, one of the first people I ran into was, Stefan, the guy who designed the apartment.  He was dressed as an old time Chinese cooley; his explanation: “We’ll all be Chinese some day.”  We talked about how gentrification is a double-edged sword: while the city is safer, much of its vibrancy has been drained.  (This is certainly true, though actually, if you don’t have a lot of money, it’s pretty much just a single-edged sword.)

            And no, he didn’t punch me in the nose.  Nor did the artist who designed the gold Gucci chainsaw and the Chanel AK-47—and, more recently, the gold-plated Gucci alligator.  He and his girlfriend were dressed in running suits and had lots of knives and axes strapped onto themselves: “Take everything literally,” he said when asked to explain.

            Serena Bass (who used to have a club in the basement of the Chelsea) catered the event, providing yummy appetizers including tomato-coconut discs, cheese sticks, black angus skewers, and mini lox-and-cream-cheese wraps.  I meant to say hi to Paul Richard—whose photo (by Julia Calfee)appears in Legends much in the tricksterish spirit of his own art, but he left before I could say Hello, off to the Gagosian, no doubt.

The only other Chelsea resident in attendance was the fashion designer Zaldy (17 years at the hotel), who wore a gauzy cape (I think), his vision of the future looking oddly similar to one of his own forward-looking designs of today.  Well, at least some of us are prepared for what’s to come.  -- Ed Hamilton

Another Icon of the Counter-Culture Likely to Fall

As if the hostile takeover of the Chelsea weren’t bad enough, now developers are going after another monument of the counterculture, this time the birthplace of Hip-Hop, 1520 Sedgwick Ave. on the outskirts of the Bronx, where D.J. Kool Herc spun records back in the early 70s.  (NYT, Cityrooms Blog, "Tenants Might Buy Birthplace of HipHop" by Jennifer 8. Lee)  Though not quite of the Chelsea’s significance, the building is still a monument to a part of New York’s life and legacy that’s being swept under the carpet for the sake of the almighty dollar.  It’s also an outpost of affordable housing in a city that’s increasingly becoming merely a shopping mall for the super rich.

            There are some other parallels to the Chelsea as well.  The building is being bought by real estate mogul Mark Karasick for a reported $14 million, which is well beyond the $5-$6 million that housing advocates quoted in Lee’s article estimate it’s actually worth based on rental streams.  It’s comparable to the mystery as to why BD Hotels, a company that buys hotels, would agree to simply manage the Chelsea, a no-win situation where all they accomplish is to make themselves look like scum for desecrating an iconic institution.

As Lee’s article makes clear, Karasick knows that there’s only two ways to make money off of 1520 Sedgwick Avenue: either to throw out the rent-stabilized tenants, or to flip the building for a profit.  As for BD, the underlying motive is more difficult to fathom.  They are charging less for rooms than Stanley was, and their claims of high occupancy are almost certainly exaggerated.  We know of a few rooms that seem to have been warehoused for months after the long-term tenants vacated them.  (Stanley would have cleaned them up and rented them in 24 hours, tops.)  Add to that the huge increase in the size of the staff, and it’s hard to imagine that that this corporation is making more money than Stanley was.  Probably BD is looking for some sort of eventual ownership role in the hotel.  Are they trying to drive down the price by bankrupting
the hotel?

Whatever the particulars, there does seem to be some sort of financial scheme afoot.  Remember, Born and Drukier don’t care to put in a hard day’s work and pull down a regular salary.  These guys are after the big bucks. – Ed Hamilton

Development: Damn the Torpedoes!

This week’s Chelsea Now has articles on two huge new destruction/construction projects.  But while reading the articles I couldn’t help noticing that neither of the projects seems to make any sense from anything but a development-at-all-costs perspective.  In the first, the proposed new St. Vincent’s complex in Greenwich Village, two huge buildings will be torn down so that two even more monstrous skyscraper can be tossed up.  But the real kicker is that, since they plan to make a large portion of the new buildings into condos for rich people, the hospital will actually wind up with less space!  Though it wasn’t mentioned in the Chelsea Now article, I remember reading somewhere that one of their main concerns was to modernize their facilities, but surely it would cost a lot less to simply upgrade the old buildings.

            It pisses me off that St. Vincent’s want to screw up the Village, but even worse is what Vornado wants to do to the Penn Station area, which involves tearing down Madison Square Garden and the Penn Hotel, and maybe even Macy’s, and altering the old Post Office in some ungodly way as yet to be determined.  For one thing, everybody’s crying that the city needs more hotel rooms, to the point where landlords are converting their buildings into hotels illegally, and here developers are going to demolish a huge hotel, which, though it may not be as luxurious as it once was, is actually somewhat affordable.

But the most ridiculous part of the whole “New Penn Station” project is that it is being sold to the public as a way to redress the much-lamented demolition of the old Penn Station, which has been used as a rallying cry by preservationists for four decades now.  Perhaps, in the end, we’ll be getting a new Penn Station to rival the old, but that’s rather like believing in Santa Claus, now isn’t it.  (What we’ll most likely end up with are a bunch of non-descript glass towers.)  So tell me once again how tearing down more iconic buildings is supposed to make us feel better about the loss of Penn Station?

Where development in this city is concerned, it’s full speed ahead, and logic and common sense be damned. -- Ed Hamilton

Public Hearing on St. Vincent’s/Rudin Luxury Condo & New Hospital Development Plan
at PS 41 (116 West 11th Street, west of 6th Avenue) Tuesday, January 22 at 6:30 pm
For more information visit the GVSHP website.

This week’s Chelsea Now has articles on two huge new destruction/construction projects.  But while reading the articles I couldn’t help noticing that neither of the projects seems to make any sense from anything but a development-at-all-costs perspective.  In the first, the proposed new St. Vincent’s complex in Greenwich Village, two huge buildings will be torn down so that two even more monstrous skyscraper can be tossed up.  But the real kicker is that, since they plan to make a large portion of the new buildings into condos for rich people, the hospital will actually wind up with less space!  Though it wasn’t mentioned in the Chelsea Now article, I remember reading somewhere that one of their main concerns was to modernize their facilities, but surely it would cost a lot less to simply upgrade the old buildings.

            It pisses me off that St. Vincent’s want to screw up the Village, but even worse is what Vornado wants to do to the Penn Station area, which involves tearing down Madison Square Garden and the Penn Hotel, and maybe even Macy’s, and altering the old Post Office in some ungodly way as yet to be determined.  For one thing, everybody’s crying that the city needs more hotel rooms, to the point where landlords are converting their buildings into hotels illegally, and here developers are going to demolish a huge hotel, which, though it may not be as luxurious as it once was, is actually somewhat affordable.

But the most ridiculous part of the whole “New Penn Station” project is that it is being sold to the public as a way to redress the much-lamented demolition of the old Penn Station, which has been used as a rallying cry by preservationists for four decades now.  Perhaps, in the end, we’ll be getting a new Penn Station to rival the old, but that’s rather like believing in Santa Claus, now isn’t it.  (What we’ll most likely end up with are a bunch of non-descript glass towers.)  So tell me once again how tearing down more iconic buildings is supposed to make us feel better about the loss of Penn Station?

Where development in this city is concerned, it’s full speed ahead, and logic and common sense be damned. -- Ed Hamilton

Public Hearing on St. Vincent’s/Rudin Luxury Condo & New Hospital Development Plan
at PS 41 (116 West 11th Street, west of 6th Avenue) Tuesday, January 22 at 6:30 pm
For more information visit the GVSHP website.

Balazs Barrage: Dig This, Gone Cats

     Self-consciously hip hotel designer Andre Balazs, (rhymes with mirage, persiflage) appears to be having cash flow problems.  How else to explain his decision to unload half of his hotel portfolio, including New York’s QT Hotel and the Standard Hotels in Los Angeles, Hollywood, and Miami?  (I guess he knows no one would want to buy the gargantuan blunder that is the Standard on the Highline where, I believe, BD Hotels may also be involved.)  The explanation that he wants to focus on the hotel management business doesn’t hold water, as management and ownership certainly aren’t mutually exclusive.  The only other possible explanation is that he’s seeking to dump these duds because he believes the market has topped-out.  In which case Caveat Emperor, to say the least.
     In other hipper-than-thou news, we’ve received tips to the effect that one or more young designers have checked into the Chelsea to begin the clandestine redesign of various hotel rooms.  Reportedly, this use of novice, no name designers is one of the hallmarks of the Balazs approach to hotel renovation, as it makes it easier to take credit for their work.  (Note to the young designers:  If you’re really hip, tell Balazs and BD where they can stick it.  It’s uncool to mess up a landmark of the counter-culture such as the Chelsea.) --Ed Hamilton

Meeting Two Legends of the Airwaves

I was on the Joey Reynolds show Tuesday night promoting my book, Legends of the Chelsea.  It was great meeting Joey and his friend Cha Cha, who was on the Sopranos and acted in a couple of Abel Ferrara movies, in addition to owning a restaurant on Mulberry Street.  Joey and Cha Cha are two genuine New York characters of a kind that are, unfortunately, a vanishing breed.  They just talked about their day-to-day life in New York —about dieting and going to the diner and such--but managed to make it interesting just by the force of their personalities.  (A rare quality these days, as they pointed out: the guys on TV talk shows apparently need a team of dozens of writers.)  It was a pleasure to watch them work, and I wish I could be as entertaining as they are.
     In fact, I guess I was worried about that.  In the studio before the show we were talking about the great director (and living Chelsea Legend) Abel Ferrara and his upcoming documentary about the Chelsea Hotel.  Joey asked me if I was going to be in the film.  “Well,” I said, “He interviewed me for it, so maybe.  Though for all I know he may decide I’m too boring and cut my part out of it.”
          “Please don’t tell me you’re boring right before I put you on the air,” Joey sagely advised.

My fellow guest was a performance artist named Lilly who was inviting all New Yorkers to gather with her and watch the sunset on Thursday, November 8.  Neither Joey nor Cha Cha seemed to be able to quite get on board with this program—in fact I remember them asking Lilly more than once, “What’s the point?”  (They asked nicely, however.)  But I think Lilly just didn’t want to give away exactly what she was planning to do.

We talked mostly about what it was like to live in a hotel: they wanted to know if I got the sheets changed (definitely not); how it was having a bathroom down the hall (junkies get in, but at least the maid cleans it); and what it’s like having a procession of transients coming in and out (a mixed bag, though some fantastic musicians have stayed in the room next door).  Joey said he’d rent me a room for less than I was paying.

Anyway, Joey and Cha Cha’s questioning was great for me, because I didn’t have to make anything up on my own.  (I did manage to get in my speil about the injustice that has been done to the Bard family.)  But after the interview was over I started thinking that maybe I hadn’t described the book very well.  “Did I even remember to mention the title?” I asked the production assistant.  “Yeah, don’t worry, you did,” he assured me.

Well, that’s a relief.  The next guest after my hour was up was a guy who was going to talk about investing in gold.  Thank heavens I didn’t have to go on with him, because I know I can’t compete with that.  The gold we have here at the Chelsea may not quite be fool’s gold, but it is somewhat immaterial at best. -- Ed Hamilton

Why the New New Yorkers Live in Glass Houses

Writers have been expending a lot of ink lately in trying to figure out who in their right mind would want to move into one of these leaky aquariums developers keep building all over New York City.  The short answer, according to Penelope Green in Sunday’s Week in Review section of the New York Times (“Yours for the peeping,” 11/4/07), is that it’s people who want to expose themselves.  (Like that oblivious hipster with the cell phone who strolled around nude in Times Square recently, I suppose, though he’s to be commended for going about it more directly.)  Green then launches into a long analysis of this tendency, worthy of the best speculative ramblings of Freud, which seems to conclude, basically, that You-tube and Facebook have confused these people to the extent that they don’t know what’s appropriate anymore and so have thrown up their hands and decided that they don’t care if the whole city sees them prancing around naked or not.

Though I’m sure Green has a point, I believe the real answer is a bit less complex, at least psychologically, though it does have two parts.  A blurb accompanying the article claims that these people are “goldfish by inclination,” but then again, even the goldfish don’t live in their bowls by choice.  If they stopped to think about it, they would probably rather be in a nice, spacious pond somewhere.  Unfortunately, they can’t do anything about it: someone just threw them in the bowl, and there they must live.  Analogously, the first part of the answer is that these people live there because that’s what developers are building these days.

     So then the question becomes: why are developers building these monstrosities?  Well, because the glass houses are cheap, pre-fab structures.  Quick and easy, down and dirty: you don’t have to pay a brick layer or a stone mason, you just slap up a truckload of rectangular panels and before you know it, you have a twenty-story skyscraper.  (The ones that were built early in the boom are a bit different, in that they are more unique, and often feature wavy glass and other nice touches, but they were the wedge that allowed the later cookie-cutter glass boxes to avoid scrutiny.)   The one nod to aesthetics is that at least the panels are transparent.  The buildings look nicer, admitedly, than if the developers had just slapped up sections of plywood or opaque fiberglass, but the practical result is the same.  Who cares if they leak, or if residents don’t have any privacy?  As long as they can be sold before they fall apart, developers stand to make millions of dollars.

By a strange coincidence, the second part of the answer as to why people live in these glass towers is provided by another front page story in the very same issue of the New York Times, this one in the real estate section (Foreign Buyers Take Manhattan).  Though I suppose Green wasn’t allowed to read the article in advance, what the author, Christine Haughney reports is that foreign buyers have purchased 1000 new condos in Manhattan in the past 18 months, constituting an amazing one-third of all condo sales for that period.  These apartments are sold, often sight unseen, to buyers who often have no intension of living in them, but are just planning to rent them out until the market takes an upturn, in which case they will sell them for a profit.  In other words, they are speculating in real estate as if it were the stock market.  So for one thing, they don’t see the glass towers, and for another, they don’t care what they look like or how they’re built.  As Green notes, when you do see inside of one of these apartments, it looks like a dorm room.  And that’s because it is: the speculators sublet the apartments to students (their captive “goldfish”), who are easy to get rid of when the time comes to sell.

     Speculation drives up the cost of apartments for those of us who actually want to live in New York City, and indeed forces a lot of the working and middle class out of the city entirely.  The real estate market outside of New York has recently been rocked by the subprime lending scandal, as banks gave mortgages to high-risk homebuyers.  But as Haugnney implies in her article, foreign buyers are risky as well, as they have no credit history in the U.S.  Perhaps New York, in so many respects on the cutting-edge, is just a little bit behind the curve in real-estate trends. -- Ed Hamilton

New Piece of Crap to be Thrown Up at Perry and Washington Streets

     Born and Drukier are really running roughshod over New York.  Now they are proposing a massive 9 story glass hotel for the corner of Washington and Perry.   They already have two of their ghastly towers, the Meiers buildings, nearby at 173/176 Perry Street.  Additionally, they are responsible for the glass tower at 166 Perry Street. Why has it suddenly become open season along the entire west side of lower Manhattan?  West Chelsea, the Meatpacking District, the West Village, and West SoHo are all starting to  look like some crappy suburban office park.  (It seems like every single project that developers come up with is designed to be the biggest, gaudiest monstrosity they can possibly get away with.  Doesn’t it ever occur to any of them to build a modest, attractive building that a reasonable person would be proud to call home? ) Isn’t there room for human scale development or better yet, leaving well enough alone – anywhere in New York? 
     This kind of megalomaniacal insensitivity to all concerns of context, community, aesthetics, human sensitivity and decency – though patently typical of some New York developers – should be enough to raise red flags for anyone who lives at the Chelsea Hotel – also controlled by BD Hotels for the time being. We don’t want our building to go the way of the West Side of Manhattan.  -- Ed Hamilton  (Photo: Gothamist)

PR Triumphs Over Reality at DeNiro's Greenwich Hotel

"Hey, why is the wood floor squeaking in this room I'm paying $1500.00 a night for?"  "You dumbass, we designed it like that so it would seem old!"  Thus does mind triumph over matter at DeNiro's new Greenwich Hotel, and developers everywhere are paying attention.  Take note that BD Hotels is DeNiro's partner in this venture.  "Why is the hinge on this cabinet in my million dollar condo broken?"  "It's supposed to remind you of an old railroad flat from the 50s." "Why is the bathroom tile cracked and yellowed?"  "It's like one of those very cool ticky-tack houses in a cool town, like Woody Guthrie sang about."  "How come the walls are so thin that I can hear my neighbors talking?" "It's like living in a shantytown in Tompkins Square Park in the 80's.  Doesn't it make you nostalgic?"
     Sorry, but I don't want the floor buckling underfoot when I get up to take a piss in the middle of the night.  Did you artifically splinter some of the boards as well?  Are these  nails sticking up for that little extra touch of realism?  Shoddy materials are a bitch, but no reason we can't put a good face on things. -- Ed Hamilton

Decline & Fall of Fun: Michael Maher Administers Last Rites to Coney Island

Australian filmmaker Michael Maher, who shot a documentary about the gentrification of the Chelsea Hotel and Chelsea neighborhood for his "Postcards from New York" series, is back in action again, having set in sights on another threatened New York institution, Coney Island. In case you haven't heard, what's happening out there, is that developers are tearing down most of the seedy old amusement park so they can build condos for rich people who, apparantly, don't like to have fun.  (Is anyone taking bet on how long it will be before they complain about noise, drunks, etc., from the Cyclones ballpark next door.)
     The film features interviews with Coney Island characters such as Captain Bob and Freak Show Kingpin Dick Zigum, and a great aerial shot of Coney at night.  So check out the film, and get out to Coney for one last hot dog before seriousness triumphs once and for all over frivolity.  (Oh well, at least they they transformed Times Square into Disneyland.)

The Kid Speaks

The kid who was the subject of Monday's post has responded:
i was the kid and here's the real story everyone that kids say who the "heck was that person" a lot so i asked the front desk that because i like to know empoyees names so i can call them that and glennon pops out of the back thinking i said who the hell was that bitch and he changed what i said and i apoligized -- The Kid

Chelsea Bloggers Sell Out -- Again!

Okay, we confess: we're a corporate blog, bought and paid for by the owners of the Chelsea Hotel. That's why, when Stanley was in charge, we harped about roaches and fires and junkies in the bathrooms.  Then, when David Elder and Marlene Krauss staged their coup, we quickly switched our alliance, lauding our new overlord as, respectively, a Lovecraftian abomination and a mud wrestling proctologist.  Kudos, therefore, to Gary Lee of the WashingtonPost.com for being (actually, far from) the first to ferret out our dirty little secret.  Lee writes:
           I also looked at some independent hotels that publish their own blogs:...
           The colorful blog presneted by New York's Chelsea Hotel,.....
His feat is all the more noteworthy in that he (also, like the others) apparently uncovered this diabolical plot without actually having read our blog.
     Seriously, to set the record straight, we were the very first hotel blog in existence, and remain the only non-corporate blog.  (This claim in Gary's article that the Starwood blog is run by fans is bull. It's run by a "pr firm" rather than "fans".)

Another Case Like Dan Peckham's (End Landlord Self-Certification)

In Sunday’s Daily News there’s an article about a woman, Karen Leiberman, whose building on West 85^th Street is being torn down around her.  The case is eerily similar to what has been happening to Daniel Peckham in his Chelsea apartment for the past two years.  Both cases result from a landlord using a loophole in the housing code to empty a building of its rent-stabilized tenants. 
     In Peckham’s case it’s the so called “phony demolition” loophole, while in Leiberman’s it’s the owner- occupancy provision.  Futher linking the cases is the fact that both landlords – Larry Tauber in Peckham’s case, and Warren Malone in Leiberman’s – lied on their applications for demolition permits:  both stated falsely, that their buildings had already been emptied of tenants.  And that’s a pretty significant lie, became, even thought the DOB seems to be bending over backward to let owners do whatever they ant with their property, they still require that the buildings not be pulled down on top of somebody’s head.
    Daniel Peckham alleges corruption at all levels of the DOB, top to bottom.  And while I have no reason to doubt him on this, the author of the Daily News article, Brian Kates, points out the presence of a less nebulous factor in the equation -- the DOB’s self-certification program, whereby owners are trusted to attest to their own compliance with building codes. Whereas in the past years you might have had to grease a few palms to being gutting your building illegally, now all you need to do is falsify a few documents.
     As Kates points out, the self-certification program also results in lax safety standards and shoddy work.  This should give even the wealthy condo-purchasers pause.  It’s a perfect example of how runaway development and gentrification benefits no one – neither rich nor poor – except a few unscrupulous developers and speculators. -- Ed Hamilton

Transient Leaves Best Good-Bye Note Ever

We knew from the get-go that the new person in the transient room must be pretty savvy about the Hotel.  She put the “do not disturb” sign on her door the minute she checked in and didn’t take it down until she left to return to New Mexico. Now, on top of that, she sends us one of the most intriguing good-bye notes we’ve ever received.

My last shower over, leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again, fecal guy.

Memory-quick photo booth 4 poses drops in the slot.

I used to drop in with my friend Frank Doggerel AKA the dog to visit a very thin blonde chainsmoking doper who had a hospital bed in her room so she could see the tube and eat Chinese takeout, whose containers covered floor, chairs, etc but not the tables or bureau.

Those were covered with several dozen copies of Interview magazine, all the same date.

The dog and I used to place bets on how long it would take her to mention "Did I tell you I was In Interview?" and demand we find the right page.

It made her so happy.

Remember the piano player in El Quixote(sp)? Such a sweetie.

Australian Novelist Bruce Russell Recalls The Chelsea

Being There, Being Here

“Foreign Correspondent” Segment, May 15, 2007 (The segment is now available for viewing online.  Click through and scroll to the bottom of the page for the link.)

As I followed the camera into the lobby and fixed on the familiar features of Stanley Bard, I tried to resist the inevitable nostalgia -- after all, nostalgia’s not what it used to be -- and to simply enjoy the show. Fred Guilhaus, another novelist, was visiting from Adelaide. He’d once sent me the words of Leonard Cohen’s song and we’d laughed at the typical Cohen rhyme: giving me head/unmade bed.   

For a long time after Robyn and I returned to Australia we couldn’t talk about New York. The feeling of being away from everything -- reflected in the yearning voice of your Sydney correspondent -- was too painful.

            What do I think now? I’ve just finished my fourth novel, called “The Museum of the Self,” in which the protagonist cleans up his shed, mourns his losses and begins to construct a museum of his life. He’s a bit like me. I still have my membership card of the McBurney YMCA, member since 11/11/1999. Before that, I have a memory of staying there in 1969, when I had taken a train down from Toronto to pick up a battered VW, shipped to Elizabeth, New Jersey from Germany. At the McBurney that first time, I witnessed a brutal inter-racial punch-up between a redneck New Yorker and a much larger African American. It was like everything else in America: too sudden, too loud, seductively dangerous.

            Now, nostalgia’s a luxury I can’t afford. I can live at the Chelsea any time I like, go there in my head, read the thousands of words I’ve written about the place, imagine you two writing and publishing your wonderful blog, wonder what Tony Nota is up to, all without leaving home. And pray that Stanley resists the inevitable pressure to condominimize. As for the queen in her penthouse across the road, she needs a personal taste trainer.

            At the end of the show, the kids recalled for our visitor some New York adventures: how we turned the couch against the wall in Tony’s apartment so Clare wouldn’t fall out of bed; how we watched a dramatic fire across 23^rd Street from our apartment window, the Chelsea sign reflecting in the floods of water the engine were pumping into the street; how we somehow all crammed into one room for our two month stay at the old palace; how a mix-up about the rent left us facing eviction; how at the end of our stay we packed all our belongings into a taxi and left for our next digs with barely a whimper.

            But I don’t miss it, oh no. Not a bit. Not much.

Bruce Russell

More Reviews from Australia

At some point in the near future the documentary will be online.  In addition, you can hear Ed in a follow-up interview on Friday at 10:30 a.m.  He will be a guest on "The Naked City," a program on Australian public radio FBi 94.5. The station also streams online.

Hi Ed,
Just a note from here in Sydney, keep up the good fight.  The  profile on the Chelsea we saw last night on the tv was fascinating  and had us hooked, we will keep up with what's happening via your  blog.  If a city loses it's character, it loses it heart.  Money  doesn't make it pump harder, it makes the heart day and stone take  it's place.
Long Live the Chelsea!
jo & brent and baby Cai

Hi Ed,
I too watched Foreign Corrospondent last night and was amazed at the history of the Chelsea and its commitment to maintain its spirit. Especially that of the wonderful manager. Keep up the fight and let it live on. I hope to visit soon.  Lita, Perth, Western Australia

WOW as a mum from Bundaberg Queensland Australia i saw a piece of footage last nite that i truely felt for ..That such place of beauty, history and most importantly peoples homes could be sold like that. I pray that everyone living there now life there and thier after life there can keep their homes and little piece of New York that i have dreamed of visiting since i was small child..i still can...from our little aussie family to your huge chelsea one hugs loves kisses and prayers
Bronnie

Saw the foreign correspondent interview on Australian TV. Keep up the good fight for the Chelsea . It has always been a big dream of mine as a young Arts student many moons ago to live at the Chelsea Hotel . I hope that one day it will still eventuate. When the kids leave home..  regards
Lisa, Tasmania

Yep this aired last night in Australia - your message certainly came across. I felt the gentrification wave when I was in NY in November last year and thought what a shame it was.
I live in Sydney - our inner city has been completely gentrified, the hipsters are out in force (notcompletely priced out yet) and the yuppies in full flight. As a Victorian colony our lot are snobbier than New
Yorkers (I hate to say) and face exactly the same consumer goods-driven economy fuelled by booming capital markets and a recent property boom - most people are too caught up with themselves to realsie what they are participating in. And hey as in economics, it is just a hostage position - no player can change their actions and expect anyone else to follow suit.

But no matter how gentried NY gets at least there is some remnant of soul in your city because by and large there is still heritage. Most of our great buildings are gone for mod towers like new Hearst building
(I'm typing this from one).

Good little doco. Good luck with the blog. Keep up the fight for grit.
Matthew

G'day guys,
Bit slow reacting, but I thoroughly enjoyed watching a segment about the Chelsea (and your good bloggin'selves) on abc last night. (Melbourne, Australia). This inner city gentrification syndrome appears to be a world-wide problem. I cannot fathom the unbridled and pointless greed of so many individuals on this planet. Enough's enough you bastards! Leave the hotel alone! Would LOVE to visit NYC one day and drop in for a cup of tea. All the best,
Denise

Gin & Tonics at the ready, we sat down to watch the ABC’s report on Hotel Chelsea. The excitement was palpable, in only minutes our own temporal Mecca would buzz across the television screen.

Within the first few shots of the Hotel sign and the neighbourhood I had drifted off into gooey nostalgia land and my companion had his hand on my shoulder for moral support.

“I want to go home”, I peeped from under my excitement. “I miss my Chelsea”.

The reactions came thick and fast as familiar faces and names darted across the screen. Life always looks different on TV and it was interesting to see the lobby as a camera does, with the weirdness and decrepitude harshly abstracted.

Stanley Bard gave a wonderful performance as Stanley Bard and was much more forthcoming in interview than I imagined he might be. He was particularly honest about the Board of Directors constantly pressuring him to make the place more profitable. Presented to us was Stanley Bard, protector of the last outpost of bohemia.

We met several of the buildings inhabitants including Gerald Busby and the hosts of this illustrious blog, Debbie Martin and Ed Hamilton. When they were introduced, Deb was hassling Ed about how they could have a sofa if only it weren’t for the foosball table Ed insists on keeping. Come on Debbie, everyone knows foosball is essential to the production of the great American novel!

We toured the building and neighbourhood with Ed and the reporter, Michael Maher. In discussing the issue of gentrification, the report introduced us to a resident of the old YMCA, now million dollar condos, the seductively Imeldaesque Cindy Gallop. We saw her sterile, cavernous home with it’s ostentatious displays of consumption, most particularly the shoe gallery. [I might have forgiven the shoe gallery had I seen Westwood heels but that’s a different contribution]

Ms Gallop even apologised for her presence in the area and agreed that the old time residents should dislike her. Her credibility was somewhat dimmed when she spoke of 23^rd Street as a zone akin to the worst of the Bronx for street danger and she couldn’t resist a certain swagger in her description of living on 23^rd St as being a bit edgy… Yeah, if you think giant cupcakes are edgy.

For this viewer, the big excitement was simply to see the hotel on TV being treated with the dignity that she deserves. The scenes of Ed Hamilton reading from his work, on the fire escapes, glued the whole thing together. Ed’s writings flow so beautifully with his NY via Kentucky accent seducing this Australian ear.

My companion, who works in travel, was sent on his way with instructions to get prices for a ticket back to Manhattan.

XXXXR

Reviews from Australia Begin to Trickle In

Hi Ed,
Just saw the report on Foreign Correspondent (thank god for public television!). Great story by Michael Maher. Good luck with keeping the development bastards at bay. Hope you're having great weather there.
It's approaching winter here and we REALLY need rain. Terrible drought. Hope you all have a great day at the Chelsea. Would love to visit there one day (if you're still there!)
Kind regards from Melbourne, Australia
Jules
xxxx

Hi Ed,

Just saw your piece on Australia's Foreign Correspondent.  (Only wish it could have gone for longer)  What on Earth was that hanging around Cindy Gallops' neck, (a New York rat perhaps).  Loved it.  Best wishes to everyone at the Chelsea.  Keep fighting the good fight.

Britta

Sydney, Australia

It's another night in Sydney under the flightpath, with the gentle hum and glow of the cathode ray in every square house on every straight street, lulling us all to sleep. I too am getting my dose of the flickering elixir. I'm watching the A.B.C and thankful that Murdoch doesn't own this little broadcasting corporation yet. Thankful, because if he did, I wouldn't be watching a story on the Chelsea Hotel, and remembering my few days there early last year.

Growing up in Australia you long for places like the Chelsea. The sun beats down here and with it the persistent, endlessly insistent knowledge that it's not going to rain, and nothing is going to change, and no one will hear you unless you run, or swim or fly over the seas, or at the least, crawl quietly into the TV. New York is TV. Late night TV. Letterman. leather man. noise. hammer-ophobia in the 20s as the buildings went up, scraping the sky. new york is up.

so I got in a plane and flew up up and away and it wasn't until I made it to the Chelsea that I felt home. Dogs in the lobby. a pat and a chat. Working in my room and then walking. whiteley!! Goodwill for all men and women and folk like me alienated elsewhere. Dublin comes close, you can sneak up on the magic, but even the thinkers there knew to run here.

I'd love to come back. Maybe late this year. I was saddened to see the old dame under attack from the likes of your over the road neighbour. what did jeff tweedy sing? "When the devil came, he was not red, he was CHROME and he said....come with me...."

That said, I'd offer a soul if even the devil could put in a good word to Stanley for me...please sir, some bread?? or at the least, a place in Chelsea to lay my weary, troubled head.
cam

Hey, I am here in Sydney. Just saw the Foreign Correspondent report. What a pity if such a disaster were to befall the hotel. I hope you guys can fight against all those yuppies invading your hotel!
Pigeon Poo

Chelsea Hotel: Hot Bed of Radicalism

Over the past couple of weeks, Chelsea Now has been running a series about the Chelsea Hotel.  Mary Reinholz  (Mary's piece doesn't seem to be online) and I wrote companion pieces and Linda Troeller contributed a photo spread.  More recently, David Gibbons interviewed Stanley Bard. Reinholz lived here in the 70s, smack dab in the  middle of the wild and wooly “inspired madness,” of which we, regretfully, only caught the tail end.  One thing that Reinholz touches on is the radical history of the hotel.  Back in the 60s and 70s this place was a hotbed of dissent, with activists such as Abbie Hoffman, Jane Fonda, and Valerie Solanas roaming the halls with the standard crop of artists and nuts.  Even Viva and Shirley Clarke were busy getting themselves arrested.   Maurice Girodias  a true champion of the First Amendment, lived here too.  And it was even a meeting place for the Yippies as they planned to protest the Democratic Convention in Chicago. We’ll explore this more fully in another post. -- Ed Hamilton

You Can’t See the Stars for the Basement

We thought we were special because we couldn’t get into Star Lounge, but it turns out no one else can either! Since we can’t get in we’ll have to get our review material second hand:

1. Décor: The NYT reports that it looks like a “fancy submarine” which is appropriate, situated as it is beneath this notorious Ship of Fool’s.  But wouldn’t it be better in the Martime Bldg – over in the Meat Market where it belongs. 

2. Bottle service:  What a scam!  And apparently they ask you for your credit card at the door and won't let you in until you drop several hundred on a bottle.  They should be run out of town for this.  Or at least out of the building.

3. The VIP lounge is called Room 100! In a word: Tacky! (For those of you in the dark on this, Room 100 of the Chelsea Hotel is where Sid killed Nancy.) I’m sure it won’t be long before someone gets knifed in there too – especially with the vibes the management seems to be creating with their door policy.

4. Stars:  Strictly B-list. The best they could come up with was Sienna Miller, Heather Graham, and Josh Harnett.   Sienna, of course, had to be there for the opening of her movie “Edie: Factory Girl.”  As for Heather, she’s apparently the owner, Charles Ferris’s girlfriend, and so doesn’t really count either.  And I’ll bet Josh Harnett was really looking for El Quixote.  The real stars, of course, are upstairs in the Hotel!

5: Dress Code:  The one bright spot.  I was once sitting I the Chelsea lobby when the hostess of Serena’s burst in, shrieking that a drunk from the hotel was trying to get into her club – wearing a sweatshirt. But at Star, apparently, you can get in with your shirt untucked (In fact, it reads like this is required.) Women are enjoined to bare their midriffs, always a plus.

Well then, no stars for Star!  I hope this answers the question for the person who keeps googling: “Star Lounge: Why put a club like this in the basement of the Chelsea Hotel?” -- Ed Hamilton

Money for Cockroaches

If you've seen anything like this around put it in a jar and drive it to Houston, Texas where it's worth $0.25.  We know that they would like to have a cockroach from the Chelsea Hotel for their exhibit. 

Visit Cancun Instead, Katy & Becca!

Katy and Becca are planning to visit the Chelsea, the "grime-caked mecca" that harbored such reprobates as Dylan Thomas and Sid Vicious, and "suck the  air from the vents."  These young college-bound students have been working for the man and holding gypsy yard sales in order to raise the scratch necessary to bankroll their $300-a-night(!) "search for answers, questions and beauty," that they hope will lead to "exquisite enlightment."

Au Contraire, sadly deluded gamins.  By your tone of sarcasm, I gather that you think this place is a joke. Let me be the first to assure you that the sorid reputation of our shady establishment is no laughing matter.  There are people here, debouched perverts and drug addicts, who prowl our famous lobby on the lookout for fresh meat. If you don't watch it, you could easily be sucked into their diabolical web of depravity.  (You know that movie "Hostel" popular, I'm told among your peers -- well, it was based on the Chelsea Hotel.) If you awake from you drug-induced stupor to find yourself chained to bed or in a brothel in Bangkok, don't say I didn't warn you.

Actually, Katy & Becca, I'm just kidding.  The only thing scary about this place is its price. $300 a night! Yikes! Enjoy your stay. -- Ed Hamilton

Once Again, No Stars at Star Lounge

The New York Press's blog reports on the premier party for "The Cake Eaters," which was held last night in the Star Lounge in the basement of the Chelsea Hotel.  By all accounts, it was just about as star filled as the premier party for "Factory Girl."   Perhaps this also explains all of the uneaten cupcakes that were left on the street outside of the hotel this morning!

Star Lounge in the Chelsea Hotel's basement. The party was a total bust: no real star power, lots of hangers-on (didn't realize that large, obnoxious floral prints was the choice of both the scenesters as well as the out of towners). We gorged on some of the cupcakes (get it? cake eaters?), tried to talk to Mary Stuart (Masterson) but were blocked by the over-protective publicist and, then, left.

READING IN DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD—YIKES!

Sometimes life intervenes and we have to get to leave the Chelsea for a while.  Last week, we were in San Francisco.  Since we’re bookworms at heart we were able to hook up with some like minded folks Thursday night.  Coincidentally, Kemble Scott, editor of SoMA Literary Review, which published a story by Ed a few years ago, was reading to promote his new book, SoMa.  So we headed out to The Rickshaw Shop, a venue primarily known for punk shows.  On our way down Market Street—past all the homeless people and crack addicts (reminiscent of the bad ol’ days in New York)--we walked by a crowd of people waiting for tickets to see Iggy Pop & The Stooges.  We stopped and debated: should we try to get tickets or not?  But God only knows how much they would be—a lot, for sure.  Ultimately, we decided to go with the less expensive entertainment option. 

While we were trying to figure out which way to turn on Fell Street to get to the bar, we ran into a social worker originally from Philadelphia and she helped us out.  When we gave her the address she asked “Are you going to a punk show?”  “Do we look like people who go to punk shows?” “No, not really, she replied.”  She also warned us that we were not in a safe neighborhood and if the show went too late we should go directly to Market Street and get a cab.  Well, we’re from NYC and don’t scare easily.

Once we got to the bar we were surprised to run into Todd Zuniga, editor of Opium Magazine, whom we know from the New York literary scene.  Todd told us that he stayed at the Chelsea last fall and he and his friends shot a crazy video here.  It's somewhere in the bowels of youtube.com.  We also met a young woman, whose parents almost moved into the Chelsea in the mid-1980s, but decided that they could do better.  She remembers staying at the Chelsea briefly when she was 9 years old, in a rundown room with an old refrigerator and a hot plate.  She likened the experience to something out of “The Shining.” 

The readers that night represented an all star line up of the alternative literary scene.  Jennifer Blowdryer told about spending the day at the Crematorium, where, apparently, you can rent a little space to display your urn along with mementoes from your life.  In choosing a space one must be careful not to get stuck next to the spaces displaying tasteless tchokes (sp) such as porcelain pigs. 

Beth Lisick read a story from her book from Manic D Press: back in the 90s, when she lived in a warehouse in the mission district she arrived home from vacation to find that the pipes in the SRO above her had broken and sewage was spilling from above all over her possessions.  She freaked out thinking that all of that shit from was from the junkies, etc. living in the SRO—though really, it would have been bad enough if it was Vanderbilt or Whitney shit.

            Manuel Jimenez read a story about surfing and getting buffeted around by the waves.  To preface his reading he announced that he was the worst reader in the world—generally a mistake to say so even if it’s true—and then self-fulfilled his prophecy by chewing gum as he read, loudly smacking it in the microphone! 

Kemble Scott read a story from his book which was about a guy getting his body waxed and trimmed.  To illustrate the sound of hair ripping from a body he ripped a file folder in half.  Very effective sound effect!  We bought Scott’s book so we’d have something read on the plane back to New York.  It’s about life among the down and out in San Francisco’s infamous South of Market district, and should be of interest to anyone who is drawn to such sketchy places as the Chelsea Hotel.  I was flipping through it and came upon a cool part about a place called the Argent Hotel, with floor-to-ceiling windows to provide the ultimate in voyeuristic pleasure.  (Readers of this blog are of course aware of our fascination with the concept of the Peek-a-boo bath, but it seems in this regard the Argent may have us beat!  Has anybody else stayed there?  Let us know.)

Oh, by the way, as it ended up, we didn’t have to brave the bad neighborhood on the way back to our hotel, as Scott and his friends were nice enough to give us a ride—saving us from death, or a worse fate.  Thanks Scott.

McBURNEY YMCA CONTINUES MISSION OF COMMUNITY DESTRUCTION

What’s the matter jokers, didn’t you (the board) make enough money from the sale of the beautiful old McBurney building on 23^rd Street?  The McBurney Y has a deficit for 2006 and they’re scapegoating the Health & Wellness program and are planning to “restructure.”  The fitness program is one of the strongest community-oriented programs remaining intact at the Y after the move from 23rd St. Sure, the people is this program complain a lot because the stereo is always broken, the studio mirrors were never properly installed, the studios aren’t ventilation, and they aren’t sound proof.  None of these things were problems on 23rd Street.  It’s ironic that the “restructuring” involves firing a senior staff person who was instrumental in placating members and helping the Y move to 14th St.  That’s loyalty for you.

In addition, this “restructuring” would also have the effect of causing the defection of more long-term members—you know, the pesky kind who tend to stand up for their rights.  If the Health and Wellness program falls, expect further assaults on other programs where a spirit of community still exists. 

Of course, this all sounds wildly counterintuitive: why would the Y want to destroy its own community?  Well, for whatever reason, the YMCA has, in the last few years, made the decision to abandon it’s mission of community service and enter the “family fitness” field.

Attempting to reason with these bullies has proved difficult if not impossible. In order to counter this move, we need to pressure politicians at all levels to re-examine the YMCA’s tax-exempt status. Additionally, the Y has sold off several other buildings in Manhattan recently.  Where’s the money? — DM