behind the velvet curtain(s)

the two most lovely velvet curtains hang glamorously over not-too-distant corners of manhattan.

behind curtain number one lies a silver screen belonging to the paris theater on 58th street, just a hair west of fifth avenue. a lovely single-screen venue, it usually headlines movies that lie somewhere between arthouse and main stream - it may be juliette binoche, or audrey tatou, or even ryan gosling (lars and the real girl).

we spent a terrific saturday evening a few weeks back taking a stroll along fifth, stopping at the iconographic apple store across from the plaza, then an ambling through bergdorf goodman (the kids got a kick out of 7,000 dollar windbreakers and 1,400 sandals, being target and h&m junkies!). we ducked into the paris for a movie and all was good.

the theater generates only hushed whispers - no cranky neighbors or loud popcorn rustlers - and even the monochromatic color scheme (dark velvets that line the seats, walls, and curtain in a rich indigo tone) gives a sense of peace and calm. we sat on the upper level mezzanine, with sweeping views to the entire, boldly simple space and the movie itself. the sound is great, the shows first rate, a perfect date!

so where is curtain number two you may wonder? just a hop, skip, and a jump away - head east, young man, to sixth avenue, hang a left and walk two blocks down, another half block over, and voila, your evening is complete. you have arrived at le parker meridien hotel on 56th street - you enter the contemporary lobby, and to your left is the large velvet curtain, your second of the evening. peer behind it and you will find an archie-bunker like 'joint' - burger joint to be exact. wood paneling, a tiny space with a couple of booths and a high 'bar' table, the smell of grease, and an open 'kitchen' (the word is used liberally here) where you place your order and pay for it. there's not much choice - burgers, fries, beer, etc. - but it's quick, delicious, funkadelic, and cheap. a great end to an amazing evening!

hope you see the light and enjoy these curtains as much as we did!

h

meet me at the met

is there anything more lovely in the fall then catching the view over central park from the roof garden café at the metropolitan museum of art?

we love the egyptian (sackler) wing, the period rooms, even the underground on-site parking at the met. but if you time your visit well, you can take the elevator up to the fifth floor and treat yourself to a jaw-dropping, up close and personal view of the changing leaves, treetops, and park view apartments that march up and down central park west.

a glass of wine, a pellegrino, or even a snapple will do - it's never crowded up there, although there is a semi-constant flow of people. you can loll about for a bit, soaking in the autumn afternoon sun, then continue on your way, refreshed and inspired.

somehow it feels as if it's all there, just for you (and 20 million other people - just don't think about that for the time)...

h

hostage crisis

i'll admit it ...

i do NOT like being held hostage. forget the stockholm syndrome, patty hearst, et al. when i want my sunday morning petit dejeuner, a silly little 26.2 mile run is not going to deter me! marathon, sssshhhhmarathon. café gitanes beckons with promises of a much less strenuous workout, but one which provides all the necessary endorphins to get the juices flowing!

sunday mornings are made for lolling, not sprinting! personally, i like the fashion statement - a big number on your chest ... yah, i could go for that.

good luck to the runners, and to those of us making our way downtown in spite of you!

h

the west side is the best side

i'm sorry to insult my dear colleagues who live east of fifth avenue, and quite frankly, if you live above 59th street, this idiom may not hold true. way up there, the east side does have it's appeal, and i'm often found in that part of town - museum mile, the park, etc.. however, in the sphere of the downtown world, i still love my west side. i'm a bit of a west side junkie, particularly with the new-ish esplanade shoring up this part of manhattan - with promises of the rising standard hotel, and my favorite left hand turn onto clarkson street.

despite obvious venues like magnolia, marc jacobs, et al, there's something special about upper bleecker street. duck in a few blocks east and taim beckons (great falafel and srug) - or how about an indian snack at lassi on greenwich? the ever changing world of bedford street?

greenwich (both - the street and the avenue), washington, perry - oh yes, there's been further gentrification, especially with sex-in-the-city belligerence in the meatpacking district, but who can deny the charms of the west side?

tiny boutique shops (yes, I know ... RL is buying up all those cute spaces) - but downtown west of fifth was the original 'brooklyn'. when i was young - okay, you can stop laughing now - this was where all of the 'young' people were living (i think we were called yuppies or something like that - not sly hipsters like the youth of today) ... of course, we weren't as 'green' or politically active (or faux politically active) as our latter day brooklyn counterparts, but it was a nice tame scene.

conrans - o conrans - wherefor art thou? not your fancy cousin tucked near the 59th street bridge, but your pretty former self, manhattan's original ikea!

murray's moved across the street, sadly institutionalized but still stinky and earthy, tutta pasta is but a distant memory (as is jane's 30th birthday, held at the branch on laguardia place) - but there's still the film forum, and the sadly tamed angelika.

sigh ... alessi across from kelley & ping? who knew ... and we won't even discuss soho - so sad!

go west, young man, go west ...

h

william's burger

for many years, when i lived downtown (west village) i would return home from the airport by instructing the cab driver to take the williamsburg bridge. i would admonish him if he professed that 'the tunnel' was faster or more expedient - i wanted my bridge and i was going to get it!

never mind that it was a rusting hulk of steel, yawning across the east river lazily and with wanton (or won ton) disregard for us meager souls moving across it's back. the bridge was (and i'm happy to report, still is) toll-free ... that shaved a few dollars off the taxi ride, in the good 'ol days of apprentice salaries.

but of course, the real reason to insist on the williamsburg when going downtown from LGA is the view - that magnificent expanse of a city that lies obliquely to your traffic path ... usually a misty evening, and new york city actually does look like something out of moonstruck - full of promise, romantic, captivating, and spic-n-span clean. oh well ...

jane and i still take the williamsburg every sunday morning, usually crossing it after soaking in (briefly) that gorgeous view which precedes it but follows the pulaski bridge. now it holds another promise - that of the sunday times, a café creme, and a friande at our beloved café gitanes.

bridge the gap and try it sometime!

h

very pretty, new york city girl

you grew up - ridin' the subways - runnin' with people
up in harlem - down on broadway
you're no tramp - but you're no lady
talkin' that street talk
you're the heart and soul of new york city

and whoa, where did all those yesterdays go?
do you still believe life could really be like a broadway show
you are the star, win the applause
oh, ahoh, you're a native new yorker -

no one opens the door, for a native new yorker ...
very pretty, new york city girl!