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BEST OF MANHATTAN
Services
BEST DECEPTIVE STORE PRACTICE
GAMESTOP'S "NEW" GAMES
A used game by any other name. We wondered why it was taking so long for the salesman to retrieve our copy of The Sims from the back room. When he finally brought it to the register—and rang us up for a new copy—we also wondered why the game wasn't in its original Xbox-stickered packaging. We paid the full price, but the transaction stuck in our craw.
Once home, we called the store and asked why the game looked as if it had been shrink-wrapped in the back room. The salesboy's response?
"Well, have you had a problem with our used games in the past?"
Well, that doesn't answer our question, now does it, kid?
It's a strange concept, but one that we hold dear: pay full price for a new product, get a new product. If we wanted to buy a used game, we'd pay the used-game price.
After some phone work, we finally got a call from Gamestop's regional manager, Jim Kirk, who told us that not only does Gamestop sell opened ("display") games at new prices, but it's also Gamestop's policy to allow its employees to take new games home, play them, then reshrinkwrap them and sell them as new.
This way, he says, their zit-ridden, underpaid, pizza-grease-stained employees (our adjectives) can sample the new games and thereby counsel customers more effectively.
Kirk promised us that the company was looking into its policies, but we haven't heard back from him yet.
BEST INADVERTENTLY CRIME-PROOF WALLET
SHELLEY PARKER'S
inmyshoes@shelleyparker10002.com
Not so fast. Friday evening, 6:15. Broadway/Lafayette. Four or five B and D trains had come and gone, depositing a succession of human payloads with no connecting train in sight. So the platform is packed when the F train at last lumbers in and takes a full half-minute to disgorge.
As fate would have it, our platform position is precisely between two doors, so as people begin to pile in, like all good liberals, we cast our lot to the left. So—shove shove—in we pile. Naturally—shove shove—others follow suit and pile in behind. And just as naturally, we tap our front right pocket, as any improv comic trying to imitate us would do, as we do incessantly, in and out of crowds, probably three times a minute, any time we are ambulatory. Naturally, because that's where we keep our green leather wallet handmade by Shelley Parker.
Only somehow, and not quite so naturally, the wallet is gone. One of those italicized shoves had corresponded to its deft extraction. So we have suddenly lost not merely our cash and laminated emblems of self, but a cherished product of the labors of leather-working artisan Shelley Parker. Our reaction is immediate and guided by laserlike squirts of adrenaline: We wheel around, and there over our right shoulder is a man we will only ever know as "the sketchy-looking-guy-just-over-our-right-shoulder."
He is positioned in the approximate spot where a pickpocket would have to have been, so we go over and begin patting. The sketchy guy's reaction to our touching him was the tip-off: Rather than roll up on us, scream curses and shunt our arms away (as any innocent New York male would've done), he offers mere quiet protests: "Yo, whatchu doin, mayne?"
We continue to pat him down while also positioning ourselves between him and the sliding door, inserting our shoulder into one of the car doors, pinning it open, hoping to summon help.
By now, we're also shouting. "Wallet?!? Have you seen our wallet?!? Do you know anything about a wallet?!?"
We do not look at his face because something tells us to not take our eagle eyes off the man's midsection, where prestidigitatory hand motions might help our wallet along to a permanent, rather than a temporary, state of disappearance. But time is short, and our fellow passengers are beginning to overheat. (And not, we might add, doing anything to help. Some were even angry with us for the delay.)
Then, we notice the sweater draped over the perp's left hand, which hangs down at his side. We lunge for it, but not before the unseen hand flicks our wallet to the ground.
"Ah ha!" we gasp, and dive to our knees to retrieve the prize.
Our thief promptly hightails it out the re-opened doors. We raise our eyes just enough for a glimpse of our still-baffled fellow passengers, who gawk at us with the disinterested bovine effrontery familiar to most victims of New York street crime. But we do not blame them (the whole thing had happened fast, in tight quarters), and more to the point, we do not care. We have our prize, convinced that our assailant was this close to extracting the cash.
What thwarted his efforts was the unorthodox design of Shelley Parker's wallet, wherein an inner pouch holds folded-over bills and credit cards nestle snugly in slots on the opposite side. The only thing that's easy to extract is the MetroCard—but surely our thief already had plenty of those in hand.
We're not saying the Shelley Parker wallet is pickpocket-proof, but it did afford us a few more minutes in which to successfully shake down the guy who shook us down.
BEST T-SHIRT
FOR SALE AT TSHIRTHELL.COM.
BEST WAY TO
PURCHASE USED PHOTO EQUIPMENT
ADORAMA BY WAY OF EBAY
42 W. 18th St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.)
800-223-2500
Shutterbug love. Daddy was a gambler. Not once in a while, for kicks; he was more of the "lose the house and the car" variety, which is maybe why we don't completely trust ourselves on eBay. We sense in our blood that tendency to get so excited while bidding that we forget that real money will really leave our pockets at the end of the transaction.
Then there was the time several years ago when we bought our first camera through the site, as did most of our intro-to-photo friends. Our Canon AE-1—bless its mechanical heart—arrived one week later, in great condition. Our friend is still waiting for hers. It's a pretty good system those eBay folks have, but there's always someone who doesn't get her camera. Which is a shame, since eBay is the best place to find used photo equipment, especially with so many photogs dumping their durable film cameras for digital rigs.
We've spent plenty of time at the mighty B&H, where without fail we buy our film and other consumables. That wondrous shrine to all things photographic has its merits; unfortunately, the used department is not among them. We don't find the disinterested second-floor countermen quaint. Rather, they're disinterested, unfriendly and we always leave feeling stupid. And we're not all that stupid, especially when it comes to cameras.
Whenever we feel like capitalizing on the digital craze, we favor Adorama. Though they have fewer used goods in stock than their 34th St. competitor, the prices are usually cheaper—particularly with medium-format cameras and accessories. The real trick, though, is combining eBay's immediacy with Adorama's helpfulness by searching for items they're selling and then heading over to the store to speak with a human being. Call ahead with the item number, and it will be ready for inspection when you get there.
Even better, there are often items not listed at auction. On one recent trip, we inquired about a Mamiya RZ67 featured on eBay that wasn't quite right for us. When we dropped by the store, Matthew patiently answered our questions while also noting our various needs. After a trip to the mysterious used-parts laboratory, he emerged with a system that met our needs—at a price $300 lower than B&H's comparable package. And when we found that one of the film backs had a minor flaw, we returned to the store and were given a replacement within 15 minutes. Yet another reason we were glad we'd had face-to-face time instead of an email address.
While offers vary with what's in stock, the ability to customize our equipment at great prices, without bidding wars, has won our repeat business. At ebay.com, search within "Cameras and Photo" for Adorama, user id "adorwin."
BEST VIDEO STORE
CINEMA CLASSICS
332 E. 11th St. (betw. 1st & 2nd Aves.), 212-677-6309
In the vault. If you walk past the bar, then through the small screening room where they show 16mm classics and host comedy shows, you'll find that Cinema Classics is hiding an absolutely amazing video store. It's dim and shadowy and cramped and has a squeaky wooden floor, but its maze-like shelves are packed with everything—foreign films, sci-fi and horror movies, tv shows, film noir—both VHS and DVD, with a focus on rare and out-of-print titles.
This isn't a rental place. Everything here is for sale, with prices ranging from $5 to upwards of $20 or $30 if it's obscure enough. First time we ventured in there not having a clue what we might find, we walked out a half hour later lugging a heavy bag, having just dropped way too much money. But we couldn't help it—they had movies there we didn't even know had ever been available on home video. They also had a bunch of things that haven't been available for a very long time. Lots of Japanese sci-fi, and lots of long-forgotten British and American weirdies.
Most of their business seems to be via internet and mail order, so they may look at you funny when you walk in (all the times we were there, we were alone except for the guy at the desk)—but it's only through browsing the shelves that you'll find some of those gems you've been searching for all these years.
BEST MALE SPA
NICKEL
77 8th Ave. (14th St.), 212-242-3203
Rub, no tug. It was our first experience with another man. We got naked and lay down on a sheeted table. He walked in, closed the door, dimmed the lights and turned on soothing music. And rubbed us down for an hour. His strong yet soft and delicate hands released all stress and tension. We've never been touched like that before, and pretty soon it didn't feel awkward. In fact, we loved it. His name was Joe. He was our massage therapist.
We've had massages before, so we knew what to expect. We weren't, however, expecting everything else this male-only spa (the city's first) could offer.
Nickel (pronounced nee-kel; French slang for "spotless") gives off a bullish feel, partly due to being located in the old Bank of America building but also from the decidedly masculine vibe on the inside. The walls are chrome, the lighting is cobalt and there's a lot of thick glass. On the bottom floor is a retail space where a complete line of skin products is offered (including a Nickel brand, used in the treatments); down to the packaging, everything is heavy, square-shaped and metallic.
There are four different facials, three body treatments, four massages and full body waxing on the menu. We could have had everything done from having our face looking younger and feeling more vibrant, to getting our back acne treated. There's even some sort of manipulation to make our love handles look less like a spare tire.
The treatment that's gaining the most popularity is waxing. And the waxing that's in vogue, according to general manager Hector Pena, is the Brazilian wax, a longtime favorite among women in which all hair is removed from one's nether regions. Pena claims that more women are inquiring for their boyfriends. (Nickel also offers trimming if the hot wax and ripping method isn't your style.)
Though drinks aren't served at the spa, Nickel does offer a happy-hour special: From 2 to 4 p.m., Monday through Thursday, all services are 15 percent off. And in case you were wondering, Nickel does have a female massage therapist if you're not man enough to be touched by another guy.
BEST PLACE TO
HAVE HOLES DRILLED
IN SHEET METAL
ABETTA BOILER & WELDING
66 E. 1st St. (betw. 1st & 2nd Aves.)
212-473-2390
Shivs sharpened free of charge. Prefab is not always the answer. Not when it comes to special projects like the wall-mounted shelving we recently put up in our living room or the steel footpeg we had welded to the centerstand of our vintage motorcycle. For jobs like this we go to Abetta, where the toughs who work the drill presses, blowtorches, saws and lathes seem to really appreciate the DIY approach.
Need a hole punched into a 1/3-inch-thick steel beam? No problem. Want that raw metal edge smoothed to a marble-soft finish? Sure, just hold my cigarette.
And they do good work, too. Cab owners and bikers swear by Abetta for odd jobs, as does a sculptor friend of ours. It bears mentioning that the house rules are a bit blurry when it comes to taking walk-in business. We advise a subtle approach: Bring cash and don't ask for a receipt.
BEST AIRPORT TRANSPORTATION
MTA BUS M-60 FROM MORNINGSIDE HEIGHTS TO LA GUARDIA
F JFK. There's no better reason to fly out of plucky LaGuardia than the M-60, which takes you from Broadway and 106th to the airport for nothing more than a $2 swipe of your MetroCard.
Forget the SuperShuttle, Airporter coaches, taxis and limos—the M-60 is easy, reliable and cheap. It's the kind of service that should be available to all of New York's airports. The M-60 is so good, in fact, that one hesitates to call too much attention to it—for fear that the MTA will do away with it and substitute something like the overpriced fiasco that is the AirTrain.
Currently, and hopefully long into the future, the M-60 leaves the northeast corner of Broadway and W. 106th St. every nine to 20 minutes, depending on the time of day. It heads north on Broadway, east on 120th St., north on Amsterdam, east on 125th then finally crosses the Triborough into Queens. There, it follows Astoria Blvd. to 23rd Ave. and turns on 94th St., looping into and around LaGuardia's Airport Roadway. It stops at Delta/Northwest, US Airways, the Main Terminal and the Marine Air Terminal/Delta Shuttle, before heading back to Manhattan.a
Outbound, the trip takes approximately 50 to 75 minutes, depending upon traffic. The return is slightly shorter, again depending upon traffic. Weekend schedules are slightly different.
BEST LITERARY
BARGAIN
NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
Plus a bathroom. Sure, the Strand has lots of books, and Coliseum has good deals, and so on and so forth. But, on a pages-per-dollar basis, nothing compares to the deal offered by our friends at the New York Public Library. Like a slightly nerdy friend with great toys, eager to butter you up with long-term loans as a means of avoiding that post-school wedgie, the NYPL will gladly lend you any of their myriad thousands of books, CDs and DVDs—at no charge. All they ask of you, much like the geek, is to avoid mutilating their property, and to return it in a timely fashion. (The NYPL does a solid business in late fees, especially the $1-a-day fines for overdue movies.)
Being big readers restricted by a small budget, the NYPL never lets us down. If you must read the latest big book immediately, the public library may not be for you (we're currently 233rd in line for My Life), but most everything else is readily available. Recent intense fascinations with the Soviet Union and California history have been easily sated by the NYPL's vast holdings, as has an interest in the kick-ass Brian Eno albums from the mid-70s.
For some reason, though, library employees can be a bunch of patron-hating dickweeds, more interested in perfecting their kid-scaring snarl than in actually, you know, being helpful. Maybe all the generosity and benevolence exhibited by their employer to the general public leaves them bitter and mistrustful. Too bad for them—in the interest of cheap reads, we've developed awfully thick skin. And we know our way around, thanks very much.
BEST UNSUNG
SERVICE AT THE
PUBLIC LIBRARY
RESERVES AND DELIVERY
Like Netflix—for books. As we mentioned above, we don't rely on the public library for new releases and bestsellers. It's the other titles that interest us—those gaps in the card catalog in our head. But why waste a trip, not knowing if it's available? Fortunately, all three library systems—Queens, Brooklyn and New York (which covers the other three boroughs)—have excellent websites, with online catalogs that tell you what books/videos/etc. they have, whether they're checked out or not and where they're located. We hardly set foot in the library nowadays without first reserving books and having them sent to the branch closest to our office.
Whether the book's popular or obscure, if it's located halfway across the city, we don't want to shlep out there, nor do we want to go to our local branch to fill out a form. (We actually did that, years ago.) Now it's all online; we fill out the form, then wait for the email telling us to pick up the book. For years, we'd cut out book reviews for books we thought we wanted to read someday. We missed a lot of those books, because once we actually got ourselves to the library, the book was checked out, or lost. Now we put the book on reserve, and we plow through that list in our own sweet time.
BEST LATIN MASS
CHURCH OF ST. ANN
110 E. 12th St. (betw. 3rd & 4th Aves.)
212-477-2030
Vatican II who? If you ever grooved along to "Kumbaya," we forgive you. If you ever bopped around during Guitar Mass (two words that should have never been joined in any sort of holy setting), we also forgive you. We didn't know any better.
Having come of age after Vatican II, we didn't know what we were missing until we got older: the gorgeous lace mantillas, novenas, St. Christopher medals. All, things they took away. After Vatican II, see, wise Church leaders decided that congregations should hear mass in their own language, and suddenly, ladies no longer wore veils in church, everybody stopped going to Confession and, most importantly, they got rid of the Latin Mass. That's when all hell broke loose.
Well, not exactly, but that decision did destroy a lot of the beauty and mystery of the ritual. Luckily, in recent years, there has been a reversal that allows for traditional Latin Masses to be revived, if enough parishioners want it, and we've finally been able to experience Catholicism the way it was meant to be. Every Saturday at 2 p.m., you too can join in this stately, dignified liturgy at Church of St. Ann.
Keep a lookout for us. We're the ones wearing an old, tattered and much-too-small First Communion veil, trying to remember how to say a rosary.
BEST CAMPING
SUPPLIER
CAMPMOR.COM
Not-so-roughing it. We've been known to fetishize certain things. Traveler gadgets, for instance. Mini Maglite? Nice. A one-liter water-purification bottle? Cool. Fortunately, we also insist on packing light, so we can never go too far overboard.
While preparing for a wee three-week trip during the summer, we knew our full-size pack wouldn't be coming along. Instead, the backpack we carry every day—just large enough for a pair of pants, some socks, skivvies, basic toiletries—would be paired with a small messenger bag for our camera and other day needs. When we asked around about our destination, however, we learned that the nights would be cold and that the mosquitoes would eat us alive.
So, over to Campmor, the New Jersey-based company that has long been our website of choice for camping supplies. We bought an individual mosquito tent, a bottle of industrial-strength insect repellent, a box of coils and a Marmot 15-degree, 600-fill sleeping bag. Even with shipping, the prices were competitive with Paragon and Eastern Mountain Sports, and our package arrived within a couple days and without error.
The mosquitoes, of course, did eat us alive, preventions notwithstanding—but at least we were warm while they did it. The mini Maglite, incidentally, did make the cut at $9.99, while the fancy Katadyn Exstream XR Water Purifier, though supercool, was deemed an object of gadget fetish that would've set us back $40 for no good reason.
BEST REASON TO
WALK A FRIEND'S PUPPY
PUPPY PLAY GROUP
Heart of Chelsea Animal Hospital
257 W. 18th St. (betw. 7th & 8th Aves.)
212-924-6116
Puppy luv. Guilty of crossing the street in pursuit of a cute dog or stopping mid-phone call to baby-talk a puppy, we were ridiculously overjoyed when our dad brought home a six-week-old collie, proportionately small and perfectly uncoordinated. We've spent the past two weeks running to visit the puppy after work just to get a few hours of playtime in, and gush at the puppy's inquisitiveness. But when we learned that the Heart of Chelsea reserves one hour on Monday nights for puppies and their owners to socialize, we promptly volunteered to take the widdle snuggums.
Sure, Chelsea's overrun with dog-socializing spots, including spas, runs and groomers, but there you're more likely to run into miniaturized breeds, seemingly small but lacking that puppy helplessness that adds to their adorability. The vet's office provides all-puppy playtime every week. First the puppies start out slow, scared of everything in the office, but then eager for attention they emerge from behind their owners, investigating the new people around them—and eventually the puppies. Soon it's puppy mayhem, with ears being pulled and yips being uttered, as a mess of oversized paws struggles to maintain solid contact with the floor.
Although it's free, admittance is contingent upon possession of a dog 15 weeks or younger, and visitors should expect to be pitched by a trainer, there to monitor playtime and drum up a little business.
BEST CHEAP TUXEDO
BURLINGTON COAT FACTORY
707 6th Ave. (23rd St.), 212-229-1300
There comes a time in a man's life… When you open the invitation to your friend's wedding and it says, "black tie optional," you know it's a goddamn lie. You're really going to be the only person at the wedding wandering around in your black sports jacket and khakis?
Just so you know: You will be invited to a black-tie wedding before you're 30. One of your friends has entertained grandiose wedding fantasies her entire life, where the women all have lavender gowns and the men are all dressed in tuxes. But, you reply, isn't it a little unfair to make you plunk down hundreds of extra dollars to buy or rent a tux?
Her response:
Fuck you. You will not destroy this fantasy.
There is a whole line of tuxedo-rental joints in Bay Ridge that will give you everything you need—from coat, to shirt, to cummerbund, to bow-tie, to black shoes—all for about $150. You will return it when the weekend is over.
No, this is not a bargain.
But there is a tuxedo deal to be found. Renting really makes no sense when you can buy a tux at Burlington Coat Factory for $150. Yes, Burlington Coat Factory, which ran some of New York's cheesiest commercials in the 1980s, has one large outlet on 23rd St. (and recently opened up another outlet in Brooklyn off Atlantic Ave.). One can find a perfectly decent two-button tux for as low as $100.
You'll have to buy it off the rack (no, they won't order one to fit your size if they don't have it), and you might have to make some alterations. But right across the aisle you can pick up a tuxedo shirt for under $13. Bow-tie and cummerbund combo goes for $10. You might have to run through a lot of tuxes before you find the perfect one, but the salespeople are extremely helpful and patient, and you won't spend a dime the next time you open a wedding invitation that says, "black tie optional."
BEST REFLEXOLOGIST
LAURA NORMAN & ASSOCIATES REFLEXOLOGY CENTER
41 Park Ave., Suite 8A (38th St.)
212-532-4404
Best foot forward. Laura Norman wrote the book on foot massage: Feet First: A Guide to Foot Reflexology. After letting your fingers walk through its pages, treat your soles and tootsies for a personal connection with Norman's healing hands. New York's resident reflexology guru practices at her own Reflexology Center, a two-room studio on Park Ave. It's a small, intimate, one-on-one sort of place, with a vanilla-scented waiting room/office area and one treatment room. Before the hands-on, you complete pre-treatment forms, specifying particularly pressing physical issues (or physical conditions that need Norman's gentle pressure and kneading?) and stating your immediate personal (weight loss, pain relief, etc.) and/or work-related (write that novel, enhance creativity, etc.) goals.
"It helps us to know whether clients seek relief for particular health conditions or if they expect a more generalized sense of balance and well-being through the distressing and energizing effects of reflexology, and articulating their goals helps them focus, visualize and meditate during treatments," says Norman.
The treatment room, furnished with comfortable sofa and easy chair, is much more spacious than most massage stalls. During the treatment, you recline face up on a well-padded massage table, gazing upon a ceiling awesomely adorned with realistically painted angels and clouds and, centrally situated, a pair of foot bottoms. A teardrop-shaped pink crystal dangles beneath the soles. Soothing music or not, your option. The rub begins with a soaking—each foot is bundled briefly in a moist, warm, scented towel. Then every one of the 15,000 nerves in your feet—and their points of correspondence throughout the rest of your body from your head down—are stimulated, as Norman systematically presses, pinches and pulls every inch of toe, sole and ankle on one foot after the other.
By the conclusion of an hour-long session, your stress has melted and you feel a sense of well-being and energy circulating through your entire body. You walk out of the center on air. If you can't get an appointment with Norman ($125 per hour), experience her treatment style with one of her Reflexology Center associates ($100 per hour), whom she's trained personally. If you can't visit the Center, Laura Norman & Associates offer home, office, hotel or hospital sessions for double the fee. Or, learn to work Norman's magic on the feet of friends and family—or your own—by enrolling in her periodic Reflexology Training Programs. The introductory workshop costs $100. The certification course costs $900.
BEST SUPERMARKET
FAIRWAY
2328 12th Ave. (132nd St.), 212-234-3883
Fresh and direct. With the highest-quality selection of foodstuffs from around the world and at the best prices in town, Fairway has no real competition. The closest would be Whole Foods, but the price differential leaves that yuppie-sucking chain in the dust. The incredible variety and sheer beauty of the meat, fish, vegetables and fruit makes it nigh unto impossible for us to drop less than $200 in a visit—and that $200 buys a carload of groceries. The cheese counter alone is worth a visit.
Fairway is immaculately clean, and the staff is knowledgeable and cheerful. Parking is easy and free. Loaner jackets are available (and quite handy) for browsing the cooler room containing the meat and the fish. The selection of beloved imported foods is outstanding.
We've spent time in California. We adore Allen Ginsberg's famous tribute poem, "A Supermarket in California." In most Manhattan supermarkets, "Grade A" produce is roughly comparable to the cast-offs the Manson Family used to pull out of California dumpsters.
Fairway isn't just superior to Whole Foods in every way—it transcends even the standards of the great Golden State.
BEST 24-HOUR SPA
TO GET NAKED WITH YOUR LOVER
JUVENEX SPA
25 W. 32nd St., 5th fl. (betw. 5th Ave. & B'way), 646-733-1330
Happy tenth, dear. Eleventh? I meant eleventh. Nothing says "Happy Anniversary" like a midnight appointment at "the Jewel of New York spas." And there's no better happy ending than what will follow your three-hour session with your honey as what you'll earn as reward back home. All services start with the signature Jade Igloo steamroom made of 20 tons of semiprecious stones. Sitting naked in the Igloo for 20 minutes will begin to calm your mind and pulse—or set it racing, depending on what other couples you may share it with. Focus on your breathing; let the dry steam enter your lungs.
Be sure to book the VIP room with personal jacuzzi for that extra vacation-like relaxation. It comes with a complimentary bottle of champagne and two trays of fruit. Feed your lover strawberries while she lies back enjoying the hot bubbling jets, her hair floating about her. Nibble on her breast while her hand goes searching beneath the surface. If you need to fuck right then and there, just make sure you don't overdo it. Sex in a jacuzzi can be dangerous to the faint of heart.
Shower off, pat dry and make your way to the massage tables. You will be instructed to disrobe and lie side by side, close enough that you can hold hands if you care to. Peek over when the woman oils up her back and thighs, and fall in love again. Listen for her whimpers while you melt beneath the touch of your own masseuse. When your hour is up, try and wake from the trance.
Walk over to the Baked-Clay Sauna, and lie down on a mat with your eyes closed. Your host will bring you tall glasses of cool water with lemons and oranges. Don't doze off, no matter how comfortable you get. Enjoy one of the three Japanese-style soaking pools filled with sake, ginseng or kombu algae to cool you off. The sad part is, eventually you will have to leave, but you will be back.
BEST FABRICS
LIORA MANNé
91 Grand St. (betw. Greene & Mercer Sts.) 212-965-0302
Feel the colors. Israeli artist/designer Liora Manné has been making her designs for years. Todd Oldham used her fabric in his first fashion collection, and her custom carpets have showcased clients including Absolut Kurant. First manipulating the synthetic fabric into predetermined shades and designs in a patented technique called Lamontage—rather than being woven, designs are laid out in 3D, before a bed of needles pressed down hard, entwines the fabric—Manné's new technique, Montique, seals the fabric between two layers of acrylic.
Prototypes are worked out by a designer, then copied by a staff of laborers, working in assembly-line format in their Chelsea office/factory. Currently, the material, see-through and lightweight, has been used in shoulder bags, molded into shoes, cut into placemats and coasters and just recently bent into lampshades, highlighting the fabric trapped inside.
Working from an ever-expanding source of signature patterns, Manné can swath a room from ceiling to floor—which can be a little overwhelming due to the intensity of the fabric's design. Her downtown store is stuffed with items from both lines, with prices running anywhere from $18 for a pack of coasters to more than $2000 for an area rug. The creations, limited only by Manné's imagination—and the requests of her customers—show no sign of ending.
BEST SUNDAY
WINE SOURCE
VINTAGE NEW YORK
482 Broome St. (Wooster St.), 212-226-9463
2492 B'way (93rd St.), 212-721-9999
And on the seventh day, He…drank. Until we discovered Vintage New York, we hated going to dinner parties on Sunday. Why? Because we always forgot to buy a bottle of wine the day before. Two hours before party time, we'd suddenly remember that wine and liquor stores were closed on Sundays, and we felt like losers showing up with the three cans of beer left over from the night before.
We thought conditions would have improved since May of last year, when the old Blue Law finally got a little kick: New York's package stores are now allowed to open on Sundays—provided they close one other day of the week. For all the celebration the new law garnered, not much has changed. Few of the city's mom 'n' pops have bothered to take advantage, and those who do open on Sundays frustrate their clientele by closing on a Tuesday or Wednesday.
Vintage New York, however, is not only open on Sundays, it's open every other day of the week as well. Thanks to a 1984 winery deregulation law, New York wine stores that are associated with a local winery are allowed to stay open all week. Vintage New York is linked to the Rivendell Winery in New Paltz, and the stores in Soho and on the Upper East Side carry 150 different wines from the New York wine region. They also sell local cheese and other nibbley things—which, after you spend some time at the tasting bar, go from seeming a little fussy and overpriced to must-haves.
The wines themselves are better than you'd expect. New York wines have always had a reputation for being "sweet, cheap and kosher," but the nation's third-largest wine region is more sophisticated than that. Vintage New York carries wines made from native American grapes, late harvest and ice wines (both of which are sweet), and the lesser-known Seyval-Blanc and Vignoles. Now we go to Sunday dinner armed with a proper bottle and a little bit more knowledge about wine, which makes us look like the classy people we always wished we could be.
BEST USED CHIHUAHUAS
WAGGYTAILRESCUE.COM
Drop the gordita-sized dog. There's no denying that certain breeds become popular because of ads and movies. When the fad has faded, though, these mutts may find themselves tossed out in favor of the next pooch du jour. We can only imagine, for instance, the packs of feral pugs running through the nighttime streets, victims of Men in Black.
Waggy Tail Rescue rescues dogs, rehabilitates them as necessary, then puts them up for adoption. Because they don't have a shelter facility, they only accept dogs weighing less than 20 pounds—which means they have more small breeds on hand than your average rescue group. Lots of, say, chihuahaus.
Each mutt has a profile on the website. Sweet Samson tells us he's a handsome, quiet, SSCM (senior single canine male) looking for someone to share his life with. As to how he became homeless: "I gave them the best years of my life and how did they repay me, they abandoned me—perhaps it's because I'm blind in one eye. Heck, we dogs don't use our eyes nearly as much as we do our ears and noses, and those work perfectly!"
So here you have an organization going out of its way to find a home for an older, half-blind chihuahua. We don't normally like the little dogs, but come on—half-blind?
BEST AUTO MECHANICS
BAGWIN BROTHERS
4237 Crescent St. (42nd Rd.), LIC, 718-786-5656
Click and clack. The only way to keep your sanity in this town is to get out as often as possible, and the only truly sane method of transport is the personal automobile. Rentals are great if you have the budget for it, but nothing beats having the option to head out to Vegas on a whim at your own pace. Our 12-year-old American sedan does not yet qualify as a beater, but it does clearly signify that we have less to lose than the fella driving a Hummer. This is vital if you wish to use the car to get around town, as we do.
You then need an honest and competent mechanic. In our current kleptocracy, in which cheating is not only encouraged but mandatory, it is rare indeed to find competence and honesty combined in an enterprise. Mike and Dave Bagwin have been running a straight shop since Christ was a cowboy and God was an Irishman. Their estimates are consistently accurate, their prices are extremely reasonable and if they can't fix it, it's beyond repair.
We've put 75,000 miles on the car since acquiring it in 2000. Out of necessity, we have had occasion to resort to the large chains for service and maintenance. Pep Boys consistently charges half again what the Bagwins would, and invariably fail to complete the job. Sears can't be trusted for anything but tires.
Your mechanic has your life in his hands. You want somebody whose name you know, somebody with that old-fashioned pride in a job well done. We're extremely picky, and we pick the Bagwin Brothers.
BEST MASKED
MEXICAN WRESTLING OUTFITTER
LOVE SHINE
249 Grand St. (betw. Roebling St. & Driggs Ave.), Williamsburg, 718-302-2913; 543 E. 6th St. (betw. Aves. A & B), 212-387-0935
ÁLucha libre! Keep yer Stone Cold Steve Austins, stuff yer Undertaker. We'll take the acrobatic freaks of Mexican Masked Wrestling over them any day. Whereas Vince McMahon's minions play at being bad, legendary luchadore El Cavernario Galindo, when faced with a snake thrown into the ring by a fan, walked over to the slithery beast, picked it up, took a big bite out and threw it back into the crowd.
Modern-day Lucha Libre can trace its roots back some 75 years, when Salvador Lutteroth Gonzalez ditched his dull day job at the Mexican tax department and founded Empresa Mexicana de Lucha Libre. Though the "sport" has been popular south of the border for decades, it's only gained widespread U.S. appeal over the last 10 years or so, with bands like Los Straitjackets, a spate of B movies and the popular kid's cartoon Mucha Lucha spreading the Gospel According to Santo (the undisputed king of lucha libre).
Colorful names like Gringo Loco, Misterioso, Hayabusa, Super Astro, Cibernético aren't the most distinguishing feature of Mexico's madmen. Mostly, it's all about the masks. Brightly colored fabrics, sewn together into fearsome full-head masks, lace up the back to conceal the identity of every fighter, making each warrior that much more mysterious.
Love Shine, a small store in the East Village that recently opened a much larger sister venue in Williamsburg, has devoted a corner of the store as a tribute to this great sport. You can buy lucha libre papier mache dolls. There are small boxes adorned with fearsome paintings and photos of luchadores. There are even decorative lucha libre car gear knobs (which you can refit as drawer pulls) and coffee-mug replicants of your fave wrestler's head.
Then there are, of course, the masks themselves. Handmade in the motherland and priced around $22, even the most mild-mannered among us can morph into a fearsome warrior god once laced in.
BEST GAY PORN BOOTHS
LES HOMMES
217 W. 80th St. (betw. B'way &
Amsterdam Ave.), 212-580-2445
That Mike White is hot. We run into a friend on 80th St., and get to talking about his neighborhood. He mentions that most people comment on how closely he lives to Les Hommes 212;which, frankly, our swinging selves had never really checked out. We're certainly curious, though, and stroll next door as our pal goes into his apartment. The main shop turns out to be the usual mix of mainstream videos and porn accoutrements. We then pay our $10 to enter the back room, and expect to find the usual porn booths with furtive guys loitering around inside.
The booths are there, all right, but the monitors within are all showing a hockey game or aerobics on ESPN. There are also two big screens in a pitch-black area with rows lined up before them. Now we're thinking that we've stumbled upon the orgy area—only to find some guys politely sitting and watching that gay-porn classic Chuck & Buck. We're impressed. This is actually the first time we've ever been shocked at what's going on in a place like this.
BEST KIDS' TUTOR
ALICE HARTMAN
212-966-6977
Don't know much about history? Go ask Alice. There's just one drawback in engaging the tutoring services of Tribeca's Alice Hartman: While the meter's running, you (the parent) can't resist talking about current events with this charming and intellectually stimulating lady.
But it's worth it for five minutes or so. We first made the acquaintance of Alice a year or so ago when one of our sons was switching schools and needed to get up to speed on a new curriculum. He wasn't pleased at first—the new school placed a priority on penmanship (a dying art, likely to go the way of Latin)—sacrificing an hour for eight consecutive Sunday mornings to visit Alice. We had no pity. As a child, our own parents insisted all their sons attend Sunday school and mass every week until the age of 13, when we could then decide whether or not to continue. (None of us did.)
Anyway, after a rocky first week, in which our rebellious boy was less than on his best behavior, he warmed up to the patient Alice, and the modest fee we forked over paid off handsomely the following school year. Alice tutors kids from kindergarten to eighth grade, helping them with math, reading, writing or history. In addition, she helps prep students for the ever-increasing number of tests on the docket these days.
She provides a warm setting for kids at her apartment, and after our boy's stint was over, he proclaimed that Alice was a far better teacher than his regular one at school. That's all the endorsement you need.
BEST CURE FOR THE RUNS
BACKWATER MEDS
Beat it, Montezuma. We've got a strong stomach and rarely get hit with the casual food poisoning that seems so popular among our friends who dine out a lot. When we do have intestinal trouble, it usually, um, passes with little agony. Even when we travel. Usually.
We were being extra careful in Central America, knowing that one nibble of faucet-washed fruit could ruin our two-week trip. We avoided the obvious pitfalls, and confirmed that each batido was prepared with purified water. The night after our first scuba dive, however, we celebrated. With a steak and salad.
The first few days weren't so bad. We dutifully swallowed an Imodium each morning, then went about our business, ever careful to monitor our backside outputs so as not to mistake a bit of harmless gas for something more dreadful.
By the sixth day, groggy and weakened from nightly expulsions of all bodily fluids, it occurred to our traveling companion that something serious was afoot. We'd been eating well—lots of bananas, rice and toast—but our condition clearly wasn't ready to give up.
Due in no small part to our malady, on our final night we sprung for a room at the Guatemala City Hilton. But not even the first air conditioning and movie channels of the trip could rouse us from our weakened state. Knowing that a 12-hour travel day didn't bode well for either party, our partner phoned the front desk.
Within 30 minutes, a local pharmacy delivered eight capsules of Sulfatrim DS containing 800 mg. of trimethoprim and 160 mg. of sulfamethoxazole. We took one pill, and within hours felt better. One more the next day, and we were right as rain.
Good thing, too. As Brian Deer reported in the Sunday Times of London in 1994, the combination of trimethoprim and sulfamethoxazole may be unnecessarily risky. The latter drug has documented side effects such as Stevens-Johnson syndrome (severe eruptions around the mouth, anus or eyes), progressive disintegration of the outer layer of the skin, sudden and severe liver damage and a severe blood disorder called agranulocytosis.
The UK's Committee on the Safety of Medicines was sufficiently worried by Deer's reports that it sought to reduce unnecessary prescriptions. The CSM's list of recommended uses for co-trimoxazole (i.e., the combination of trimethoprim and sulfamethoxazole) was revised to include just pneumocystis carinii pneumonia, toxoplasmosis and nocardosis, acute exacerbations of chronic bronchitis and infections of the urinary tract as the right time for co-trimoxazole, but even then only if "there is good bacteriological evidence of sensitivity to co-trimoxazole and good reason to prefer this antibacterial."
We don't recall the man at the front desk consulting our chart or securing bacteriological evidence of our sensitivity to the product they sell as Sulfatrim, nor did the delivery boy leave the pharmacist's instructions. Rather, we just popped the pill and starting pooping solid again.
We've got six left, and you bet your ass they'll be packed on our next trip.
BEST KINKO'S TO AVOID
HOUSTON LOCATION
250 Houston St. (Norfolk St.), 212-253-9020
Copy prevention. Kinko's was once a trademark job for people with side projects that involved a lot of Xeroxing. These employees had bigger things on their mind, like zines, chap books, band flyers, posters and comic- book art. Since Kinko's changed ownership a few years ago, all this has changed. The poorly trained and pissed-off staff members seldom know how to use the equipment, much of which has broken down in some uniquely frustrating way. Things can get heated.
We'd suggest that the city's worst is the Houston St. location, where malfunction has been elevated to an art form and one can lean against the counter for half an hour while employees studiously ignore their duties. Once we went in to simply write a letter and print it, but the printer wasn't working, which took an entire $5 card to find out. Oh, and think you can get a Kinko's card from the machine? Not in the recent past, buddy—you must colorfully draw attention to yourself in order to buy one directly from an impatient member of their short-lived personnel. When we asked for a refund, seeing as how our $5 had bought exactly nothing, the counter person told us we ought to be grateful—an interesting way to approach customer service.
And best learn how to fix paper jams and load paper yourself. One day, a hungover pal peering at an empty paper tray: "It says the paper is jammed, but it's not!" she complained. We gently pointed out that there was no paper jam because there was, in fact, no paper.
BEST ALTERNATIVE TO THE POST OFFICE
POSTAL LAUNDROMATS
Don't go postal. From lines as long as the Nile to surly customer service reps to the forever-lost packages, every New Yorker has had occasion to see red at the local post office. Like most, we occasionally receive a mangled letter—gussied up in a special Ziplock bag, delivered with a form "sorry" letter—but we're willing to chalk those instances up to technological malice. Chances are, though, some postal worker, at some point in the process, smirked when our grandmother's Christmas card was mauled by an unmanned machine.
Trips to our USPS on S. 4th and Havemeyer in Brooklyn were harrowing: random heaps of mail, care packages from moms strewn carelessly every which way in the seedy back room. How many times had they lost our stuff—and tried to blame us for it? When we stumbled across a Bedford Ave. laundromat advertising postal services, we stopped. We turned. We walked in. We handed them cash and in return got a mailbox key and the assurance that, for $11 a month, we'd have a laundry/postal-service two-fer, and we'd never have to enter the Williamsburg post office again.
The service is not much better than that of the post office, we admit, but it's a very small operation. When the cranky Asian proprietor can't locate our package, he lets us hunt it down. We figured out early on that the daytime guy knows where everything is, and speaks English to boot (though he's not much nicer). Fine. In four years of high-volume package-receiving, there hasn't been a single casualty, and for that luxury, our postal-laundromat workers could flip us the bird every time we walk in and we'd still give them chocolates at Christmas.
BEST AIRPORT
FOR DELAYS
CONTINENTAL PRESIDENTS CLUB
AT NEWARK AIRPORT
Everything but a massage table. It was a "relaxing oasis." Our flight was delayed, rescheduled, delayed, rescheduled… This went on for four hours. It seemed we were never going to board. Most travelers would have been furious, threatening the airline's gate representatives and bitching them out for having to wait without getting answers.
That's not our style. We weren't worried or nervous, nor did we want to wring anyone's neck. We were relaxing in Continental's Presidents Club—a paradise for those passing time in airport limbo.
The members-only Presidents Club is oriented to business travelers, with data ports, free high-speed wireless internet access and photocopy and fax machines. There are three locations (C1 Concourse, across from Gate 74; C3 Concourse, near Gates 120-139; and Terminal A2), each offering every amenity one might need while waiting to board. The fully stocked—and complimentary—bar sits beneath flat-screen tvs tuned to either CNN or ESPN, and we soon found ourselves sharing war stories of previous flights with our fellow drunken travelers. We talked about everything from lost baggage to previous delays to that girl in Houston everyone apparently visits when they're just "passing through."
By the second delay, we were tired of getting liquored up so we picked out a magazine, poured a cup of coffee and sank into one of the many luscious leather chairs spread around the Club.
Membership fees are based on One Pass Elite status (Continental's frequent-flyer program), which needs to be renewed each year. We were also allowed to bring in two guests or our immediate family. A big plus are the 40-plus affiliated lounges worldwide that also offer a comfortable port in the delayed-flight storm.
BEST PSYCHIC
MELINDA IN GREENPOINT
Kenny Kingston got nothin' on this. When she told us our ex-roommate had put a hex on us and that's why we haven't yet met our soulmate—who, by the way, is living in Manhattan right now and is 26 years old and stems from German stock with some Italian mixed in for good measure—we knew we'd found the psychic for us. (We never did trust that asshole ex-roommate, which is why we stole her soulmate, then after a few months dumped him 'cause we just didn't really like him anyways, although he was pretty good in bed.)
The psychic also said we should wait before we do what we've been planning to do, so we decided not to murder that dog next door (or the present roommate, who's been bugging us as of late) or study for the bar exam or really do much of anything at all. We're waiting until the time is right, or when Mercury, or was it Venus, is out of retrograde. We can't remember when that was. Maybe next Tuesday? She also said she sensed we'd recently taken a long trip, all alone in an isolated place, which had put us a little out of sync with our natural rhythm. She also advised us to try new things because we seemed to be getting in a rut, which is why we decided to take on another drug. Believe us, following crack with heroin was spot-on.
Once the retrograde ends, we're going to post an ad on Craigslist for our soulmate, and maybe another one just for random sex with someone who is hot and horny, because we feel like that will balance it out a little more.
Whatever may come, thanks, Melinda.
BEST TRANNIE
LEGAL AID
SYLVIA RIVERA LAW PROJECT
For smooth transitions. It's not like there's a New York marathon of competition in this category. There's the National Transgender Advocacy Coalition in DC, which works for trans civil rights, but few if any other projects are devoted specifically to addressing the daily legal needs of people who are transgendered or otherwise "gender nonconforming." That didn't daunt Dean Spade, a 27-year-old trans man who, fresh out of law school, decided to take his skills and put them to immediate good use, founding Sylvia Rivera Law Project in 2002.
SRLP provides free legal services to low-income trans, intersex and gender-variant people. That can mean helping someone get legal identification that conforms with the gender that he or she presents; working to ensure that homeless shelters meet the needs of trans people, who often choose the street over a system that generally only recognizes birth gender; and fighting for bathroom access, a topic that SRLP video Toilet Training explores in depth.
The group also does policy work, organizing and impact litigation on relevant issues, plus extensive public-education work. Like Sylvia Rivera herself, Spade and SRLP are committed to making the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender (LGBT) movement accountable to low-income communities and to trans communities—traditionally a low priority for the mainstream LGB movement. SRLP generally handles well over a hundred cases from around the country at any given time, which is even more remarkable considering Spade is currently the only lawyer on staff.
"[I've] been out of law school for three years," Spade told us last December. "Most people who have this level of experience are being supervised. I think, oh my god, it's scary—what if I fuck something up? But the fact that I'm so afraid means I work harder at not fucking things up, and it's better than nothing. [A] person [can] go to housing court alone and lose their apartment, or I can go with them and do everything I can."
BEST EMPTY BUS
THE 21
Take a seat, any seat. A few years ago there was a big scare: They were going to cancel the 21 bus! True, the 21 is often empty, but that just means we've gotten personal rides across town to Don Hills. We also like that the drivers, relaxed from working such a cushy route, aren't rigid about which corner they'll drop us on.
Its route is close to our hearts, being the only bus that carries people from the projects to right near Soho, or up and down Houston. Starting somewhat eccentrically at 26th St. and 1st Ave., the 21 then scoots down to Ave. C, where nobody is ever waiting for it, and travels down to Houston. From there, it heads west as far as Washington, then loops over to Spring St. and back to Houston and 6th Ave. From there, it reverses its singular passage.
Riders can either isolate themselves in the back or, like true New Yorkers, perch by the driver, who's generally at ease and welcoming—or at least tolerant—of conversations about baseball, recurrent illness, what ticks both of you off or simply why you're going where you're going.
BEST CMA MEETING
SUNDAY, 5:45
Gay & Lesbian Community Center
208 W. 13th St. (betw. 7th & 8th Aves.)
212-620-7310
My name is ___ and I have a problem. With more and more of the best-looking guys in this town in rehab, you'll probably have a better chance of scoring a hot number at a Crystal Meth Anonymous meeting than at the Roxy. From one weekly meeting just a few years ago, this counseling group has exploded to dozens of such meetings around town. Although open to all, CMA meetings at the community center naturally attract a gay clientele. After the all-night online cruising on Saturday night turns into Sunday morning, day-after remorse kicks in sometime around 2 p.m. That's why the best-looking crowd gravitates to the 5:45 meeting Sunday evening. No PNP, but at least if you pick someone up, you know you'll still have your stash the next morning.
BEST SEVEN-DOLLAR HAIRCUT
HIP KEE BEAUTY SALON
10 Doyers St. (betw. Pell St. & Bowery)
212-587-3305
Rice with your bowl cut? For years we visited Atlas Barber College for our monthly snip-snip. Four bucks netted an appointment with an interchangeable Eastern European émigré dreaming of American barber billions. Sure, we were fodder for clumsy fingers and deficient understandings of our instructions (we're not sure what "short on top" translates to in Russian, but "buzz cut" may be the answer), but we were broke, and even the most misshapen lawnmower cut was tamed with pomade.
It was an ace arrangement—cheap haircut in exchange for playing human wig—except for the fact that students were a little too eager to appease the maroon-jacketed teacher. Too much caution resulted in painstaking, hour-long haircuts in which pupils debated every shorn follicle. They still screwed up; only instead of spending 15 minutes to turn us into mangy men, they spent an hour. But four dollars couldn't be beat.
Until we found our dream barber in Chinatown.
Located on crooked Doyers St. (dubbed "bloody angle" because gangs bided their bloodthirsty time waiting for rivals to round the bend), Hip Kee Beauty Salon is home to our new favorite shearers. We enter the rectangular room festooned with photos of well-groomed Chinese men and women and nod emphatically when the barbers say "haircut?" They usher us to a well-oiled chair and, for seven bills, start the snip.
We don't bother describing how we want our hair cut; they understand us even less than the barber college boys. Instead, we just wave our hand over our head like a bullfighter to bull and shut our eyes. With rapid-fire clips, the 50-something barbers reduce our Jew-fro into something Alphabet City-worthy in 15 minutes flat.
When all hair is shorn, the barbers break out the blades. They straight-razor our sideburns and scrape our hairy necks into gelato. Better yet, they brush us with horsehair bristles and sprinkle us with powder produced in 1954.
Did we mention the haircut is seven bucks? Scalp scrubs are a dollar or two extra.
BEST CHINATOWN BUS
BOSTON DELUXE
You like cheap lide? Chinatown's proliferating discount buses do not reward civility. It's not first-come, first-served, but survival of the pushiest—much like bus travel in most of the rest of the world. The buses are erratic, smell funny and show movies ranging from kung-fu to Shanghai soft-core. The drivers are full of frowns, and the stations consist of a guy sitting behind a makeshift table lording over a wad of $10 bills. We're also pretty sure "Fung Wah" means "You're a fucking cheap bastard with no chance of getting on this bus" in Chinese.
We recommend trying Boston Deluxe. It's just as convenient, with less of a line and more of a chance for a seat. Just don't bother ordering a ticket online.
Like Fung Wah, the buses are standard-issue, with colorful seating that reclines further back than optimal. Don't sit too close to the back; the bathroom smells like an outhouse. Don't sit too close to the front; the drivers are incredibly loud cellphone gabbers. Get there early, park your ass in the middle, put on your headphones and settle in for the rocky ride.
BEST OUTERBOROUGH THRIFT STORES
EVERYTHING GOES
208 Bay St. (Minthorne St.), 718-447-8256
140 Bay St. (Minthorne St.), 718-273-7139
Just don't stand near the front of the ferry. If you need yet another reason to get on the Staten Island Ferry (the first two being the free fare and cheap beer) it's the Everything Goes stores on the island's North Shore. At their clothing store, you'll find scarves for a dollar each, plus vintage pieces for prices much more reasonable than that place in the West Village. Their main store has everything from fine china to used CDs for less than five bucks, musical instruments (we recently spotted a decent Fender acoustic there for about $100), home appliances, décor, vintage jewelry and, among other things, a vast collection of used books. A few months ago, at the furniture store, we picked up a microwave stand/cabinet for $8, and we've been tempted by several other items over the years. Assorted collectibles can be found at their gallery—head there for rare coins, first editions and other goodies.
BEST CAR JOCKEY
EUGENE RUBERTE
Jeeves with the keys. As auto-owning New Yorkers know, car jockeys shuttle vehicles from one side of the street to the other to comply with alternate-side parking regulations, which specify that cars must be removed on certain days to make way for street cleaners.
In most neighborhoods, street sweepers come on Mondays and Thursdays on one side of the street, Tuesdays and Fridays on the other. They clean specific blocks from 9:30 to 11 a.m., others from 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Anyone who forgets to move a car or double parks in the wrong spot or for too long a period of time is subject to a fine (up to $115) and possible tow ($150 plus the fine).
Manhattan's countless car jockeys—including resident auto-owners who refuse to pay several hundred bucks monthly to rent garage space, outer-borough workers who commute to in-town jobs and service providers driving trucks and vans to deliver goods or make repairs in the vicinity—vie for extremely limited curb space.
With such high stakes and fierce competition, there's bound to be a best car jockey.
Our pick is Eugene Ruberte, a resident superintendent on West End Ave. on the Upper West Side. He jockeys several cars—his own metallic blue-green van and three to five others—from the east to the west side of West End Ave. and back again, spacing the vehicles so it's impossible for others to park between them. In effect, Ruberte commandeers almost the entire block of curb space on the east side of West End Ave. between 81st and 82nd streets on Tuesdays and Fridays, and on the other side of the avenue on Mondays and Thursdays.
We find the whole thing fascinating. Especially when Sanitation Department officers arrive minutes before parking becomes legal and demand that all standing vehicles be removed immediately. Nobody's ever seen Ruberte receive a single ticket.
Ask Ruberte how he does it, and he'll wave you away. He won't say exactly how many cars he jockeys, nor whether he's paid by their owners. Nor is it clear whether the coop's board is aware that their superintendent's regularly scheduled work from 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays is car jockeying, rather than tending to the building.
BEST THERAPEUTIC ASS-KICKING
TUI NA
Master will see you now. Think of tui na as acupuncture without the needles. We'd never heard of it until a few years back, when we started seeing our acupuncturist's mentor here and there. Dr. Ming Jin, of Ming Qi Natural Healthcare, is a firm believer in acupuncture and tui na in combination, a traditional concept in Chinese medicine that for some reason doesn't seem to have accompanied acupuncture's mainstreaming. Acupuncture schools like Pacific College crank out graduates like cotton candy, but few who strike out into private practice offer both acupuncture and tui na. That could have something to do with the intense labor of it; it's grueling work, and not everyone has the physique for it.
Though tui na is a kind of massage, it's a far cry from Swedish. It's more in line conceptually with shiatsu, which also homes in on the "points" used in acupuncture. However, shiatsu is to digging as tui na is to jackhammering. In a word, it's vigorous.
It's excellent for sinusitis, back pain, carpal tunnel and a host of other ailments. Besides total rest and ice, many health professionals think tui na is the only effective treatment for sciatica. The therapy, however, can be more painful than the problem. Sciatica causes the leg and butt to constrict into such tightness that the gentlest touch is uncomfortable. Our Hulk of a tui na fellow—practitioners tend to be strapping, muscular men—would sound nary a warning before having at our hip/ass/upper-thigh juncture with grim gusto. On more than one occasion, tears of pain went drip-dripping onto the office floor. But after half an hour of tui na, the sciatica generally worsened for a day and then significantly improved after that.
There's the immediate, obvious effect of having someone pound the bejesus out of your gnarled muscles, but the more traditionally medicinal aspects of tui na concern those pressure points of which Chinese medicine is so fond: Tui na can strengthen the immune system and take care of all sorts of other business not usually associated with massage. It's also the only situation in which a man can bruise the heck out of our tender flesh and we'll not only say thank you, but schedule an appointment for more.
BEST ARTSY GADGETS
MOMA'S DESIGN SHOP
44 W. 53rd St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.)
212-767-1050
Industrial design porn. Appealing collections of artsy gadgets abound, but MoMA's Design Shop's spacious, well-stocked shop yields access to a wide range of designer stuff affordable enough for purchase without budget shock or consumer guilt. Sleek and trendy offerings include furnishings for home and office, kitchen and desktop wares, personal accessories such as watches and jewelry, toys for kids of all ages, novelties and gift items.
Currently featured:
Duane Smith and Stefane Barbeau's candle-like Candela Rechargeable Lamp ($78) emits a soft, atmospheric light without the risks of an open flame.
Richard X. Zawitz's Mini Tangle Toy ($15) is an entertaining diversion for children or a play-related stress-reliever for executive adults. Measuring just 1.5 inches in height, 2.5 inches in width and one inch in depth, it's a tangle of 17 die-cast metal interlocking curved sections that rotate, producing an unlimited variety of shapes to yield personalized palm-sized sculptures.
Maira Kalman and Rick Meyerowitz's M&Coasters ($18) are a colorful set of six drink caddies that are adaptations of CDs that are even stored in a mock CD case. At $18 for the set, they're a good purchase to protect surfaces of your favorite things—or maybe you'll be inspired to create your own coasters from your disused CDs.
The Ribbon Bottle Opener, Scott Henderson's 2003 design, is a continuous ribbon-like loop—identical on both sides. Smooth and elegant, it removes bottle caps with a tug. It costs $20.
Massimo Vignelli's Baby Vignelli Swiss-made watch ($495) has one textured steel and six anodized aluminum rings (in turquoise, red, chartreuse, violet, orange, and gold) that quick-fasten to a black wristband for fashion matches. Swiss-made, with precision quartz movement, calfskin strap, and sapphire crystal.
An all-in-one Compact Tool Set ($28) fits a handle with six bits (including three flat heads, two Phillips and a hole maker) plus a two-head hammer extension into a mere 5.25 inches by .75 inch casing, while the Factory Multi-Function Tool ($35) packs scissors, stapler, magnifying lens, knife, measuring tape, compass, two screwdrivers and LED torch light with battery into a case measuring 4.5 inches by 1.25 inches by 1.25 inches.
Tibor Kalman's 40-inch span Sky Umbrella promises a cheery view of bright blue yonder with white clouds on the umbrella's interior side, while the black nylon exterior protects from what is probably a very gray day. This MoMA exclusive costs $48.
BEST DIRTY NOVELTIES
FUN CITY VIDEO
308 W. 40th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.)
212-947-1707
Don't forget the dirty bankbooks. No telling where they come from, but the proprietors of Fun City have stumbled upon a fine stash of dirty novelties from the early 70s. No telling where those came from, either. The selection's always changing, but check out the glass cases situated near the peep booths. Our latest expedition got us a Sexy Shoe Horn (with key chain), some dirty ashtrays, the mam-shaped Mamma Hair Brush and some brightly colored plastic Cocktail Picks featuring couples in assorted sexual positions.
Everything's cheaply priced, and they'll offer a discount if you're buying in bulk. Go now, before those crafty bastards at Love Saves the Day scoop everything up and resell it with an 800-percent markup.
BEST ANIMAL
RESCUE SERVICE
SEAN CASEY ANIMAL RESCUE
917-734-0442, scarnyc.org
The lizard king. In last year's Best of Manhattan issue, we named red-eared sliders as the best dog substitute. Every word was true. We established Club Med for turtles: huge tank, lots of foliage, a customized basking area. In return, they did what happy, healthy turtles do: swim, sleep and bask. They're not the most interactive of pets, but we relished their beauty and intelligence.
We didn't relish cleaning the tank and changing the filter. Every time, we inevitably flooded the living room, or at least made a nasty, skanky mess. Considering our hectic work schedule, spending an entire afternoon sloshing around in turtle water or bleaching turtle-poop residue out of the kitchen sink is a sad one. But it's imperative to provide turtles with a clean tank and filter; they're susceptible to a range of illnesses.
Eventually, it became too much. After weeks of fretting and feeling guilty, we found Sean Casey Animal Rescue, a group that specializes in rescuing and finding permanent homes for reptiles.
Sean Casey is a man who loves reptiles, and has foster homes set up across the state. In his own home, he has a professional set-up to accommodate dozens of snakes, iguanas, turtles and other animals—including a small American alligator. He also takes in the occasional dog or cat, but prefers to focus on the reptiles who need his help. And there are plenty of them—most people who adopt turtles, for instance, don't properly research their needs. They must have the right kind of light, food and vitamins, else they develop horrible, painful shell diseases. (Note to New York Press interns: It's also not okay to set your turtles free in the Jersey wilderness. Come winter, they will die.)
We still feel wretched for giving up the turtles, but we know that with Sean Casey, little Bertram and Sleestak are in great hands.
BEST DOGGIE DAY CARE
PERSONALIZED PET CARE BY ALICE
90 Ludlow St. (betw. Delancey & Broome Sts.)
212-228-7894
Doggie diva. Our pit bull's the loving kind. She so enjoys human contact that merely returning home can send her into paroxysms of canine bliss. But a funny thing happens whenever we pick her up at Alice's. She doesn't spring forth with her usual tongue-licking and tail-cranking. Rather, she remains where she is, luxuriating on one of the plexi-covered divans in the large main room, nestled between two or three of her doggie friends watching tv. From this vantage point she'll give us a look like, "Oh, hey, it's you," then turn back to her program. She is, in a word, content.
And that's why we love Alice's. We've been taking our pooch there for six years. Whether it's for an afternoon, a long weekend or several weeks, we always return to find the mutt relaxed, happy, even a bit sad to go. And we always find the staff to be attentive, caring and downright doting of our pooch. Boarding there is always communal. They don't use crates or kennels (though there are time-out rooms for the occasional flying of the fur).
At $25 for day care and $45 for overnights, Alice's prices compare favorably to other dog-boarding outfits in the city. Also on offer is a limousine pickup and drop-off service for an additional $5 to $15 depending (a bit more for New Jersey and Long Island) and weekend country retreats. Thanks, Alice, for the peace of mind. Our dog thanks you too.
BEST NEW BROOKLYN-BASED CLOTHING LINE
SWEATSHOP LABOR PRODUCTIONS
sweatshoplaborproductions.com
Two cents buys a lot in Rangoon. Everyone loves sweatshop labor—or at least the fruits of it. Yes, occasionally pangs of conscience occur, but they're easily beaten back below the surface.
One clothing company in Brooklyn has the gumption to dishand the vice grip of our self-hatred. Headed by two young, untrained, chomping-at-the-bit entrepreneurs, Sweatshop Labor Productions has developed the famed "I love • sweatshop labor" t-shirt. The days of clandestine flag-fucking are over. God's country is back and still on top—only this time she's not afraid to say so.
The only thing we dislike about Sweatshop Labor Productions is their choice of raw materials: Images are printed on shirts manufactured by American Apparel, a company known for its specious attempts to respect its employees and speak out against sweatshop labor. American Apparel's production is based in the United States, where sweatshop labor conditions are supposedly illegal.
We wonder if these young, crackerjack entrepreneurs understand the hypocrisy in buying from a company that goes against the morally reprehensible third-world labor they claim to love so much. Maybe once they've established themselves and made a lot of money, they'll switch over to good ol' dirt-cheap products assembled by eight-year-olds working for a bowl of rice each day.
BEST NEW
MASSAGE SPOT
THE RELAXATION STUDIO
155 2nd St. (betw. Aves. A & B)
212-614-7406
Prostrate massage. Don't expect too much English conversation at the Relaxation Studio, especially from the woman we know as "Lucy," who communicates best in gesture and frequent smiles. They opened recently, and still have a sale that allows you to get a 10-minute body rub for $8 (before tip). Their best sandwich-board message offered a truly New York sentiment: "Relax your pain."
Cheap-Chinese-massage junkies can get a fix closer to home, without having to trek through the crowded, fishy streets of Chinatown. The Relaxation Studio, tucked in a basement on East 2nd Street, offers tui na massage with as much vigor and skill as the bruisers off Mott St., but in an atmosphere reminiscent more of a spa than a dim-sum house on Sunday.
Although you pay a touch more for the pleasant music and hushed vibe, you'll be duly impressed when the masseuse sits on your butt and splays your arms and torso out like she's preparing a chicken. They're open until 10:30 p.m., and for the price of an apple martini, you can start your day over again.
BEST STORYTELLER
FOR HIRE
MARA MCEWIN & TREEHOUSE
SHAKERS
212-715-1914, treehouseshakers.com
Once upon a time... Charming Mara McEwin has more than 300 tales long and short in her extensive narrative vocabulary, and she's absolutely superb at telling them. She's resident storyteller at several New York City schools, has held court at Tribeca Film Festival's Storytellers' Tent and acts out a repertoire of tall tales with her Treehouse Shakers performance group. And, she'll come to your house or hall to entertain your kids and their friends at birthday parties and other celebratory gatherings for, say, Chanukah or Christmas or Valentine's Day.
By interviewing the party-giving parents in advance, McEwin manages to customize the tales she tells to fit the kids in the audience. Mostly, though, she likes presenting animal stories that teach kids not to be greedy. Not that they're the "I told you so" variety, filled with scary events leading up to grimm conclusions; McEwin's tales are cheerful, teaching kids to participate with gestures or sing-along chants as the story unfolds. Many of McEwin's tales come from other cultures and will broaden a child's horizons. Take, for example, "The Cat and the Parrot," an Indian tale in which a fat cat consumes everything in sight until—
Let's let McEwin deliver the ending.
McEwin also gives storytelling classes that last 45 minutes ($275 per class) and day-long workshops that last four or five hours ($600). Party storytelling sessions are priced from $175 (or $350, if the location is outside the city) per half-hour. That fee buys you a minimum of three stories, some great interactive play and priceless joy for all within hearing distance.
Treehouse Shakers, the not-for-profit group founded by McEwin in 1997, has several storytelling shows that travel to various theatersaround town (check the website for schedules), or can be booked for special performances at your kids' or grownup events.
BEST MAIL PROGRAM
INCREDIMAIL
You've got kick-ass mail. If you're still doing your email via web clients or Microsoft Outlook, it's time to switch. IncrediMail, put out by an independent company and available very cheap, is a nifty little mail client that does everything Outlook does but much, much better. It has customizable signatures that can include an image (like, for example, your own actual signature); it has the ability to attach voice memos; it has none of Outlook's security holes; it won't eat up your hard drive; and it's as customizable as your mp3 player. We have to constantly be on the lookout not to get sidetracked by the cool skins and message alerts when we're trying to answer our endless email. IncrediMail keeps us sane when dealing with what is fast becoming the biggest stressor of the 21st century.
BEST HOLIDAY GIFTS
UNEMPLOYED PHILOSOPHERS GUILD
philosophersguild.com
Cogito, ergo sell. The Unemployed Philosophers Guild is the proud purveyor of intellectual kitsch that inspires no end of conversation. Where else can one purchase a pair of Freudian Slippers (actual bedroom slippers with two cloth busts of Sigmund Freud on the toes)? Or Axis of Evil finger-puppets (finger puppets of Kim Jong Il, Ayatollah Khamenei, Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush with magnetic strips that stick to the refrigerator)? Or Che Guevara wristwatches? Or Hegel and Marx in puppet form?
Stephan Shaw, the brain behind the guild, is himself an unemployed philosopher who dropped out of his Ph.D. program more than a decade ago, and has been putting out his weird, pretentious toys ever since. One can find his products online at philosophersguild.com, but every December Shaw puts up a stall in Union Square among the other Christmas vendors. Though his products might elicit nothing more than a hearty laugh, he has toys that cater to every personality: Those of our friends who are big drinkers can get the Dorothy Parker Martini Glasses; the self-conscious George Costanzas we know can be given a tin of Meshuggahmints to relieve them of breath consciousness; and for the health nuts in our family—the ones who spend every waking hour at the gym and who will never allow anything fattening to pass their lips—the Guild offers up a Nietzsche "Will to Power" bar.
BEST WEDDING GOWN/
BRIDESMAID DRESS
ANGELO LAMBROU'S
96 E. 7th St. (betw. 1st Ave. & Ave. A)
212-460-9870
Catching rock. In a city flush with fashion snobbery, there are exceptions. One is Angelo Lambrou, whose East Village boutique shop features a mix of humble haute couture, bridal fashions and prêt-à-porter evening and cocktail collections. His custom-designed dresses are sophisticated but well-cut, elegant but easy to wear with a bit of an edge, drawing on Mediterranean as well as African influences.
The man behind the fashion is a 35-year-old native of South Africa who set up this atelier four years ago at the height of the dotcom boom. His business has steadily grown since, catering to a diverse clientele of downtown hipsters and uptown charity-ball goers.
"People come to the East Village to find something that's not available to them uptown," he says. "They don't want to wear their usual designer stuff. We mostly get brides who come in not looking for your traditional wedding gown but for something unusual, something alternative."
BEST USE OF
OLD BARN WOOD
BARNTIQUES
Saturdays & Sundays at the Sixth Avenue Flea Market (24th St.), 212-243-5343
Will you look at those legs. Ten years ago, Tony Garcia started a custom-furniture business in Scranton, PA. Somewhere along the line, while refurbishing antiques, he'd recognized the need for new, durable furniture. Coming from a line of high-end woodworkers, we know craftsmanship when we see it, Garcia's use of old Pennsylvania barn wood produces tables, chairs, beds, desks, cabinets and shelves that offer more than a lovely weathered look—they're high quality.
On top of what he sells at the Chelsea market, Garcia does a brisk trade in custom work. Our major project was a platform bed: a simple bed without head- or baseboard, with turned legs like tree trunks, small drawers for small linens, and storage space beneath. Garcia stained it a dark chocolate brown. The sheer weight of it is such that, in case of burglar or poltergeist, hiding under the bed would actually do something: The bed has to come apart for even the burliest to make it budge. Our other custom project was a small writing table (that one, we can move and carry ourselves). Garcia used pretty turned legs on his 48-by-30 table, left off the drawer and modified the height to accommodate our carpal-tunnel arms.
In our home office, we find our gaze settling on that table as often as on the plants or the art on the walls; both bed and table are breathtaking. Garcia's prices are reasonable, and the pieces will last generations. His business, however, won't: There's only so much old barn wood in Pennsylvania.
BEST TINY BOUTIQUE
LOST SHOE PRODUCTIONS
168 Ludlow St. (Stanton St.), 212-529-2537
Get lost. Ann Hanavan, the owner of Lost Shoe, claims that her boutique is 10-by-29 feet, using a size-seven shoe as a measuring tool, but it seems smaller. She named her design company and store after an incident when, under the influence, she woke up on 13th St. with one shoe missing, and never looked back.
"The things in my shop are really cutting-edge, not generic shit," she tells us, and the items are indeed one-of-a-kind.
This is the only place we've ever seen Karen Black pillowcases, and artwork by Bambi, G-Spot and Sean from the Toilet Boys. Her favorite items right now are two gun-metal-green peacock-feathered halter dresses, priced at $180 and $220. A different bakery is featured every two months by the sugar-obsessed owner, who scored some Tab to hand out at her grand opening in May. Karen O's stylist has shoes and bags she designed for sale there, and if you need a quick culture fix, Diamanda Galas' two new CDs are also available.
Ann's usually hanging out and eager to chat, and it all reminds us of a late-70s St. Marks boutique, where we once heard the shop girl describe her dream about A Clockwork Orange over the phone as we waited patiently for the only cool clothes in town.
BEST SMALL VINTAGE FURNITURE SHOP
UGLY LUGGAGE
214 Bedford Ave. (N. 5th St.)
718-384-0724
Sit on it. When we packed up our apartment and moved house last month, we realized at least a third of our belongings had come from Jim Lanning's Bedford Ave. shop, Ugly Luggage. That says a lot, considering our modest income and the state of Williamsburg, even four years ago, when an ex moved out and we had some rooms to furnish. Other area shops charge an arm and a leg for vintage furniture, which may be why at least two of them have folded in the past year, while Jim endures.
Lanning took over Ugly Luggage a few years ago, and works hard to bring in furniture that even the budget-minded can afford. Stocking affordable items also means a quick turnover, so that the store always has something new to offer. It's not unusual to find Deco, 70s, 50s and the just plain odd cozying up in the small storefront. We're fond of antique clocks, functional or not, and Jim always has at least one tucked amidst the glasses and plates, lamps, chairs, desks, cabinets and boxes of old photos. He strives for an eclectic mix—the only true requirement being that pieces pair good design with practicality.
He's also a hell of a nice guy. We can't count the times he's done us a good turn, whether it's dropping off a chair in his van or holding an item until payday. Take the other week, when he fixed a lamp within 20 minutes of our dropping it off (okay, so it wasn't so terribly broken) and refused any payment but a coffee.
BEST WEB BROWSER
NETCAPTOR
Never lose your spot. Alternative browsers seem more and more common to us—we see people breaking away from IE and (gasp) Netscape to Mozilla's Firefox. But there's nothing better than NetCaptor, a cheap and independent download that gives you tabs to switch from window to window instead of, well, annoying window bars that you have to minimize. NetCaptor also comes with a boss pop-up blocker, plus, when you open the program, you aren't shuttled to any website—just a blank page. (That keeps nasty adware from taking over your web experience.) Finally, when you close NetCaptor (even if you have to force it to quit), it opens up with all your web tabs still in place.
BEST BOUTIQUE TO
GET A TAROT READING IN COUTURE FASHION
WEAR
155 E. 2nd St. (Ave. A), 212-614-6998
Brooklyn charm on the island. Couture meets tarot at this new East Village boutique, which is actually a collective of 10 young Brooklyn designers who offer a refreshing approach to fashion. We've worn a Gaelyn and Cianfarani short-sleeved scoop-neck shirt adorned with flowers made out of recycled tires—to great popular acclaim—but the boutique also features runway designs from Gaelyn and Cianfarani themselves, as well as spectacular latex gowns, Urban Mary's reconstructed whimsical apparel, CC jewelry of finely crafted silver meets feathers and silk, handmade sensual jewels by Eswera, fairytale-on-acid full-length wool coats by Lopeti, Suzannah Bags and the more feminine chiffon and ribbon mix of Koketso.
Add in tarot readings by Nigel Barton, with a magic candle or two burning for good effect, and you've found a unique shopping experience.
BEST NEW BOOKSTORE
FREEBIRD BOOKS
123 Columbia St. (betw. Kane & Degraw Sts.), Red Hook, 718-643-8484
Whodunnit, and how do you get there? Freebird Books, which opened this year, is right on the water on Columbia St. in Red Hook, which means it's pretty much inaccessible to those without bikes. That's the way it should be—cool places should be at least a little inaccessible. There's a concrete backyard that hosts readings, many of them surprisingly good, and a shelf of pulp detective novels that made us go batshit—and we're not even really into detective novels. Plus, beer.
BEST PLACE TO
LEARN ENGLISH
MANHATTAN LANGUAGE
1265 B'way (32nd St.), 212-683-5442
Teaching the good English. Choosing an English as a Second Language (ESL) school can be a daunting task. Judging from the ongoing barrage of subway ads featuring smiling students and the phrase "Learn English" in every language short of Zulu, there must be plenty to choose from. The sad fact is that many are profit-driven factories offering overpriced lessons, overflowing classrooms and unqualified teachers.
Manhattan Language is a nice departure. Teachers here know their students on a first-name basis, classes are kept small (typically 15 or less) and instructors come well-trained. The school takes a communicative approach to teaching English rather than just cramming grammar down students' throats. Textbooks are used as guides, not as bibles; classes are fun, never dry. And they're affordable.
Extracurricular activities are abundant. ML students, typically young and from all over the globe, regularly take part in parties, picnics and other outings to New York City landmarks. Teachers organize English tables at area bars and restaurants. Movie nights are common.
ML offers all levels of English, from basic to advanced, in addition to conversation and TOEFL courses. Spanish, Russian and other languages are available as well.
BEST HELL'S KITCHEN MUSIC STORE
FUTURE LEGEND
796 9th Ave. (betw. 52nd & 53rd Sts.)
212-707-8180
The devil's listening room. You don't have to be a Bowie-head to enjoy this shop, but if you catch the store's name as a reference to 1974's Diamond Dogs, so much the better. Giant luxury condo towers slated for construction in the area are still on their way, but in the past few years Hell's Kitchen has been reaping some benefits from being a neighborhood in a transitional state somewhere between "gritty" and "yuppie." Chief among the fringe benefits has been Future Legend, a quaint little new-and-used music retailer the likes of which have been steadily getting kicked out of their traditional locales downtown by ever-escalating rent.
Co-owners Paul Ruggiero and Greta Perr are alumni of St. Marks Sounds with music-knowledge credentials to spare. Said Perr of the shop's 2003 opening, "We realized the time was favorable to bring something like this to Midtown." Located on a stretch of 9th Ave. that's still supporting mostly independent businesses, Perr cited the appeal of the area as the sense that the neighborhood was still, well, a neighborhood.
"You'll see the same people who both live and work around here around all the time, and they'll actually say hello," she said.
For a small shop, Future Legend has a respectable selection at surprisingly low prices, ensuring that music junkies who still prefer to practice purchasing over downloading will be able to stretch their bucks further here. The stock includes a full range of titles from small labels like Matador, Astralwerks, Touch and Go, Dischord, SST and more, a vinyl shelf with both new and used, sections for pop, jazz, country, folk, world, showtunes, comedy.
"This place is a hidden gem," a thirtyish Latin guy commented to us once as he combed through CDs. The store will special- order titles, offers some of its own merch as well as the ubiquitous bulletin board and flyer table and a friendly, laid-back atmosphere. Indie/college/punk/rock aficionados will love the place as a hip independent music store; everyone else in the area can appreciate it as a welcome alternative to Virgin.
BEST THERAPY AS LIVE THEATER
DR. ALBERT ELLIS
Screw your mother. (Then talk about it.) Some of New York's best theater has been going on every Friday since 1965 at the Albert Ellis Institute on E. 65th St. None of it is scripted, it costs just $10 for 90 minutes—and you might just come away in better mental health.
In 1955, Dr. Albert Ellis devised Rational-Emotive Behavioral Therapy, an action-oriented therapeutic approach that was divergent from Freudian psychotherapy. Ellis believed that patients need not dive into their dark pasts to uncover their neuroses. Instead, they could consider their feelings about an event, and change the language, thought and approach in order to make a bad situation better.
The 91-year-old Dr. Ellis takes the stage with two volunteers. As the clients and the good doctor go back and forth, Ellis cuts right through the crap in a manner that is polite but also blunt. He frequently calls people out on their bullshit. Though vilified at first, over the years Ellis has pumped out more than 70 books about his REBT, and many claim it has helped them.
I recently went to an Ellis Friday-night lecture and sat in an audience of about 60 as Dr. Ellis took the stage. He welcomed the crowd and then said his Friday-night workshop has been going on since 1965 and "...we cured every screwball in town one at a time."
The crowd carries a cult-like feeling, and though no one tries to sell me anything, there are dozens of books for sale and plenty of all-day lectures to attend.
The first client Ellis invited onto the stage was a crusty older man named Dan. Ellis asked him what problem he wanted to solve.
"I want to get back to reality."
"Yeah… Like what?" Ellis asked.
"I am anxious about speaking in public..." Dan looks around the crowded room and says, "But given this crowd I'll be cured in five minutes."
"You'll be cured when I say you are." Ellis gets a big laugh with that line.
Dan then goes into what gets him worked up, but Ellis interrupts him. "You only get disturbed by the horseshit that you say to yourself, not the horseshit that is said to you." Dan whines a bit, saying that he wishes people received him better. He talks about how his anger pushes people away.
Ellis asks, "How come people must like you?"
Dan retorts, "Because that's the way I like it."
"And you run the fucking universe."
The crowd breaks out with a laugh and Ellis adds, "You can always choose to accept yourself whether or not anyone else accepts you."
I sit in the back row, digging on the old man. He's like a street-wise guru cutting through all the New Age crap of psychology. He lays down a rap that a person is just a person. Sometimes we do good and sometimes we do bad.
Then Dan goes on a rant about his childhood.
"Fuck your childhood..."
Dan flares with anger and says, "Why don't you go fuck my mother?"
Ellis calmly smiles and says, "You better not fuck your mother… That would be incest."
"No I said you should fuck my mother because she has been dead for 20 years and you might enjoy it."
The crowd laughs as Ellis tries to find out more about Dan.
"Are you married? Do you have children?" Ellis asks.
"Never married and no kids."
"Why is that?"
"Luck," Dan quips.
Dan then goes into a tirade about how evil the Catholic Church is, and brings up an incident of a priest raping an altar boy.
"The priest is not bad or good. He is a person who did an evil act and he should be in jail for it."
"Sounds like bullshit to me," Dan huffs.
Ellis eventually has Dan close his eyes and imagine he is speaking in public. He tells him to feel all the fears and face all his feelings. Dan does this, and is happy with the result. By doing the same thing every day for the next 30 days, his fears will go away.
A middle-aged woman walks through the audience, looking for questions.
Someone asks how we can not pay attention to what others think about us.
"You pay attention to feedback from people