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January 26, 2004 #
 Lower East Side store sign, 1999. Photo by Josh Levine. More on his site, SixFive.net. Theme weeks seem to be popular...with all 5 of you. I'm gonna focus on one of my favorite topics this week, the Lower East Side. It's annoying, stupid, and full of the worst people ever. "We're talking real scum, Randolph." Yes Mortimer, but it's also home. Much discussion has surrounded Jesse McKinley's article on the "lower Lower East Side" in the New York Times last week. Yawn, naturally. (By the way, the next person who uses the abbreviated form of that word risks the chance of getting an unopened Bud Tall Boy can shoved up their ass. Stop it. It's fucking gay. And not the good kind.) Good, I've set the tone. Predicatably, Lockhart Steele attempts to dissect and genuflect on this issue. I swear I have no idea what the hell he's talking about half the time. His circular logic is dizzier than a NASCAR race and more confounded than neon-signed bars across from elementary schools. If he had a point it's certainly lost between the ass cheeks of pontification and gentrification. (Ew, I said the nasty g-word. Sorry.) When Schiller's lil bitchboy comes up for air and licks his chops to say "stick a fork in our dear old neighborhood" I can't help but think this is the guy who's been STABBING IT IN THE BACK WITH A FUCKIN' STEAK KNIFE FOR YEARS. He pumps and dumps like a late 90's tech stock, or sex on laxatives. When King Shit of the Golden Shower Boys waxes phallically on the LES, it's time to motor away down the icy streets. (God, that's TWO butchered Guided By Voices references that don't make *any* sense but I love it. Also, I'm writing this hungover and the music is helping to regulate my heart beat, plus I'm lactating. Speed on.) He also referenced the wrong article that signaled the neighborhood's impending blow up/out. The Times piece announcing the "New Bohemia" in 1997 does a much better hatchet job. Jon Pareles sums up the familiar pattern best as he describes "the transition from rundown neighborhood to artists' hangout to hip destination to overload." This is not entirely unwelcomed. I've said before, "I too enjoy the hot tail that wags on Ludlow" and I don't bemoan the area's metamorphosis I've witnessed since '95. It's a relief, really. When I moved here the NYNEX guy installing my phone suggested I "buy a gun." I had no idea of the area's rough reputation. Oddly, it wasn't until a month ago that I started seeing the drug deals on Stanton and Rivington mentioned in the '97 article. (But these dopey white kids look so cute and harmless there's no danger, right?) The growth has made it a lively, interesting community but I do draw the line on obvious offensive intrusions - sorry Schiller's, I will beat this into the ground until you take down those fuckin' signs. The Surface Hotel, if completed this decade, can only spell trouble but if it means trashy European model whores will be gallivanting in local bars on weekends totally sloshed and looking to get laid then I'm all for it. Look, I'm not trying to come across as some raging Philistine demanding a homeland back. Surely we can all agree there are reasonable boundaries to this nonsense. With this in mind (and out of my mind) I hearby declare the following lines of demarcation which better represent the layout of the neighborhood. "Wessex" now refers to the area west of Essex which includes all the nastiness of Ludlow and Orchard Streets. It's a mall and total cheese-ville over there. On the other side, all's not well either so you need to stick above Rivington and asshole bars. With a nod to our Puerto Rican residents, I call this "SobreRiv." Actually, you can run into trouble there too with the Clinton Street restaurant scene that shows no sign of constipating soon. Okay, let's make this real easy. THE LAST COOL PLACE TO HANG OUT IN IS - Esstanfolk. (That's Stanton between Essex and Norfolk, home to...uh, my home, the Oh-No House.) Much like its Eurasian cousins, the other "Stans," it's physically bleak and barren. But there's oil in 'dem hills. You can get a tattoo and Jewish tombstones engraved on this block. Swing on by, I'll give you a tour.  FYI: Call off the dogs and doctors. No need to shit a tenement brick. Lock and I are actually friends. It's a tenuous relationship that we both work really hard at to appear effortless. Word Count: 767 Pill Count: lost track Archives "The Other Page" powered by Removable Hype. RSS. Copyright © 2003 La Otra Página, Inc. All nights observed. Feel free to email "info(at)krucoff.com" for questions, comments, stock tips, and family gossip. |
