Open Eyes are what make writers and artists truly magnificent. They absorb their surroundings, see that which others neglect every day and use their life experiences to explore their methods of expression. Without open eyes, you have monotony- boredom- and oppression.
Best Bar Wednesday shapes itself every week. It’s never the same, there is no plan, but to visit a single bar, have the experience of the décor around you, enjoy a conversation and take from it something which will enrich you. I always take from it perspectives I may never have noticed- and sometimes it pays in more ways than one.
To attempt to catch up with my weekly bar schedule, I’d planned on two bars this week: Marion’s Continental Restaurant & Lounge and Peter McManus Café- both downtown. I reached the city on the earlier of the two trains and decided, like I did once before to walk the opposite way. I’d heard rumors that Marion’s had closed, but had no intention of NOT going, after all, rumors are rumors- I like to see for myself.
I walked across town towards Lexington where the green subway lines take you down the East Side, closer to the Bowery. I passed one of my favorite museums- the Morgan and took a picture of its magnificent side gate. The place used to be the home of Robber Baron- J.P. Morgan. I always recommend a visit to its library. It’s typical of the lavish time period with enormous red velvet curtains and books from floor to ceiling locked behind ornate bronze & glass doors. He was a rich man and avid collector of books, which include some of the most important books in literature and history- Shakespeare & the Guttenberg Bible, practically anything you can think of. I understand the library is closed for renovations now, so should you be in the area, keep that in mind.
I walked down Park Ave. towards Grand Central Station. It was in the shadow of the place where I’d come upon a profound art exhibit, all bronze plaques laid into the concrete called “Library Walk”: each one the combination of writer’s quotations and symbolic pictures which complemented them. When you put together two disciplines and shape one picture, you get a foundation- an interpretation that builds a larger picture. What might stand-alone is enhanced with the beauty of the other discipline. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but in this case it’s perfect. I took pictures of every one- blessed to have been recommended this walk- it was the highlight of my day. I wrote a poetic verse this morning, one line per picture in the order on which I stumbled by- a spontaneous “ditty” which came as clear as the walk. Look when you have a chance. (All pictures are located on our music site at www.myspace.com/funkthunder Under Best Bar Wednesday Pictures)
On the opposite side of Park, was another building that had plaques also; each one represented a building in New York. I took a few of these, but felt architecture should be left to the buildings around you and not plaques on the street. You’ll also note a few facades I took for the beauty of early twentieth century construction. I had a conversation, which revolved around that and today’s lack of building art into the creation. Granted there are those who might take the time to create a piece of artwork from a building, but they are too far in between. Most want to just slap it up, make their money and move on. We need more Frank Lloyd Wrights in the world.
The walk downtown weaved between Lexington & Park. The day was overcast and light raindrops pelted the skin. A toss between a bus and a subway left a short subway ride to Astor Place where you exit to the site of Cooper Union. The Bowery starts there. It’d be a good place to look for 354 Bowery the location of Marion’s.
The neighborhood didn’t look great. The Bowery was always known to be like that, think of late 70’s CBGB’s (also located on the Bowery further down). Marion’s write up said it was established by a Hungarian Swimmer who freed herself from the oppression of Hungary in the early 1900’s. She made her way to New York after time in France, and having exotic looks as a model, she did well. She opened a small storefront on the Bowery and had many famous guests from the 1950’s forward. In 1973 she closed the place, had 3 kids and settled into Belmar- a Jersey town I’m VERY familiar with (grew up by the shore). In 1990, one of her sons reopened the place- a no-nonsense kinda place fit for its location. My only complaint was the rumor was true - the place had been shut- replaced by a Mexican bar called “Hecho en Dumbo”. I had to drink a beer there- a Kelso Nut Brown Ale- just for the hell of it. The place looked hellishly different than the pictures in the book. It had grey wood surroundings, like you’d see in Nantucket- wood worn by the sea- on the walls and the ceilings. The bar had what seemed to be a slate finish. On one end was 5 4×4 pieces of grey wood held by rebar that protruded from the wall. Each one held candles obviously lit at night. There was a selection of Tequila and various other beverages behind the bar and seating in the back. The ambiance was good and the menu looked good also. Very different than what I imagined, but nice nonetheless.
From Hecho, the weather worsened. Light rain got heavier, but still worth a walk to the next place- Peter McManus. On the way, I crossed paths with next week’s stop- McSorleys Ale House. It’s a place I’m very familiar with and a place you can only get two small mugs of beer per serving- light or dark. I HAD no choice but to have a “Dark” there. True, I am to visit there next week, but I cheated- JUST had to go in- the place is history. Now, the Bowery is distant from Seventh Ave & 19th Street- LONG blocks, but blocks of great interest. Rain was just an inconvenience and it wasn’t that heavy, so you plod through.
The area between 4th street and 20th street is probably the most foreign to me. I only recently went down there to visit Corner Bistro. It was a very neighborhood area, and perhaps it’s why I never ended up there much in my past. I probably passed within a stone’s throw of Corner Bistro and by the way- they do make a FABULOUS burger…
I arrived at Peter McManus just before the downpour. I walked in and sat at the corner of the bar. There was a woman there who was visiting from Chicago- a designer. The jukebox played Ziggy Stardust and a series of songs, perfect rainy music for a perfect melancholy day. I ordered a chiliburger and a Guinness. My friend- Patricia ordered some beer and we talked.
The place had old photographs on the wall, a small backroom and an electronic game next to the jukebox. The wood was dark and too the mood set by the played music; I suppose there are times your insides need to be ripped inside out and in a dark bar, on a rainy day, with a few drinks under your belt- well, you might just get that. Granted my company was great- even did a cool picture in my book- but the music… that sets the tone.
The burger was delicious and had it not been for the woman from IL, I might have been out of there much faster, but the conversation was good- philosophical. Designers have a way of the world, artists who can observe, who like I said above are disciplined in ways I can only think to write.
I fell into a hole of depression with every note, so you could say the music drove me out. I did little to rectify it with a few bucks I could have easily put in the jukebox, but let it rule my emotion till the point I needed to be free. I stepped out into the rain with the designer who decided to join me to the next. I could read a large sign a few blocks down called “Il Bastardo”. It had large red awnings, with no windows, but an open frame that overlooked the avenue. It had shelter with tables protected under it’s name. The bar was big; it was quiet and the selection plenty. It warranted a dirty martini, my company ordered a martini also. There was fascinating skull bottle which held vodka, so I said give me that in a martini….
He said, “I insist you try it first.” The bartender poured a small glass, I sipped it and gritted my teeth. “Didn’t want to give you a martini of that, we like the bottle.” It tasted like something you’d find on a pirate ship back in the middle ages, something to grow hair on your chest and grow holes in your stomach.
The martinis were good. The rain was plentiful and it was quiet. Reflection takes place in places like this and it’s like I’ve said- rain provides the stimulus for writing. Patricia told me about Chicago and the many beautiful sights there. She told me of working crazily and getting a well-deserved break. She told how she once lived downtown years ago and how she loved New York. She told me about the responsibilities she had and how she sometimes wished she had the opportunity to be free like the early days.
Responsibilities come with age. We all have them at some point in life and although they can be tough, our weathered selves prosper in ways we never see at the time they’re there. It’s only with refection can we see what things actually mean after we go through them. You can never tell when and where the meaning will come to you, but it does. It could be an obscure thought, it could be with a thick coating of paint, it could be with the loss of a head full of hair, but it does come. As long as you can escape temporarily, and resume the position with a new perspective- you grow. We all wish to escape the chains of responsibility, but we know reality is the balance- balance is the goal and the goal is completion. Live rich inside and all around you will prosper.
After the Bastard, I mean IL Bastardo we parted ways. I walked to 23rd Street where the world famous “Hotel Chelsea” is. It’s known for the many creative spirits who have resided there. I’ve always dreamed to write for a week in that place, work on a novel and be influenced by not just the surroundings but the aura of the place. Some of the people who have stayed there include: Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Patti Smith, Leonard Cohen, Arthur C. Clarke, Mark Twain, O’Henry, Jack Karouac, Tennessee Williams, Dylan Thomas, Sid Vicious (killed his girlfriend there), Robert Mapplethorp, Larry Rivers, Allen Ginsberg, several Titanic victims because of it’s proximity to the Pier- it’s seems a never ending list. There is always artwork in the lobby and I read transients are limited to 24-day stays only. I think that’d be enough time to jam out a book- no?
Tours of New York last for hours and hours for the wanderer. There is always so much to take in, to toil over, so much at your fingertips. One place to best end a journey is the library- not the one which serves high priced cocktails located on the East Side, but the Public one. A lovely monument made of marble that sits on top of Bryant Park. A little piece of humanity in which anyone can walk through it’s spinning doors- a wealth of knowledge bound by covers that seem only now limited. A time where electronic devices replace those beautifully bound volumes of worn paper, a time where newspapers future is uncertain, and bankruptcy seems inevitable because of Internet access and easy news. What is the future of America’s Libraries? Will society replace the public library with their own personal computer and neglect the contact with it’s own species? Will people be willing to communicate with one another, if they can sit back eat, drink and wipe drool from their mouths on a comfy couch? Who really can tell- but I can tell you one thing- I’ll miss the smell of freshly cut wood and aged paper- there’s no replacing a good scent.
Thanks again for joining me on Best Bar Wednesday. For next week- McSorley Ale House, a source of inspiration, history and damn good drinkin.