It seems highly unlikely, I know, but I am a closet romantic. Born and bred in the midwest, the experience of the evening there is different in many obvious ways, and one subtle. Even though my parent’s home is a dreary straight line drive west across Pennsylvania, the sun sets seemingly later. I used to think it was one of those self-involved suppositions, like my belief that streetlights go out when I am near (presumably a result of having been struck by lightning as a child), until my sister pointed out a more scientific reason: being a goodly ways west within the same arbitrary time division, with New York being the leading edge, we have at least an hour less of federally mandated Daylight Savings Time than my birthplace. There, the longer crawl to the horizon illuminated many evenings of sport, wandering, and preparing myself for the non-stop frustration and misanthropy of my adulthood.
Here, the sun droops sooner, abetted by towering hunks of metal and stone. Like everything else in this town, the enforced scarcity makes slender moments more precious. Today being the symbolic entry into summer, it also is the first solid week of summer evenings and spring air. So take yourself for a walk. It doesn’t have to be grand, and it doesn’t have to be planned. If you don’t mind, I have a few recommendations: Seventh Avenue in the 30’s. The remnants of the Garment District are primarily physical, the hulking stone manufacturing centers of the teens and twenties. Rising to a uniform height, with a limited amount of set backs, as required, they form a striking wall illuminated by the gap that is Penn Station and the Garden. The upslope of Seventh is a great view, albeit a rather crowded one, as hordes muscle their way along to the terminal, most oblivious to the dusty hues above. Brooklyn Bridge. Believe the hype. Ignore the tourists. It’s near impossbile to feel like it’s ours, overrun with camera-toting interlopers. But there’s a reason for that appeal, and it’s not just Fodor’s. Save yourself half the pain by walking east over the Manhattan Bridge (you get the south path as a pedestrian, perfect for evenings) and wander though DUMBO, which is still empty enough for you to forget it’s the new Tribeca. Robert Wagner Park. It’s annoying that every seven feet of the Battery is a different park. Robert Wagner is the southern most portion of Battery Park City before you get to the Battery proper. Featuring a wonderful brick folly by Machado/Silvetti — do not fail to stand on that bridge or sit in those luxuriant benches on the upper level — and a perfect green rectangle (no noise please), this is best experienced right close to sun down, so that the jumble of uninspired apartment blocks just to the north are a hazy mass, and New Jersey looks like a place you might want to actually visit. But the real point is, don’t go anywhere. Just go. Don’t stop for a drink, or at least until after it’s dark. Sit in inappropriate places. Smile at strangers, or just to yourself. You only have a little bit of time. Don’t let it get away. Previous Lore:052505: Neither city, nor subway, but Empire.
050405: Like Usual?
042705: The best thing ever.
Stadia agonistes.
So tomorrow is the big day — are Joe and Shelly going to play hooky? Will they sneak out and smoke cigarettes behind the gym all day while Curious George runs around, trying to play the mindful elder, but really just looking like a geeky Student Council flunky, with Mike-Mike trailing his heels, furiously taking notes and trying to look dignified but just coming off like Alex Keaton?
As they gilt themselves with Olympic finery to justify the most egregious act of corporate welfare, well, this week at least, could someone please point to me what events will take place at this ‘Olympic’ stadium? See, the tradition is that track and field events, sometimes soccer (though this is less an issue since most host countries have myriad soccer venues due to its popularity) and opening and closing ceremonies are held at the moneyshot location, which is how the Jets Stadium is being touted. But given that it already is doing double duty as a convention center [Voice of Dan Doctoroff: Hey! Back there! Stop snickering — this is serious stuff! You can too use an arena for other events. I rememeber when the Cleveland Cavs moved from Richfield Coliseum, and it was used very successfully as the site of a flea market, and for motocross, for several years] and football stadium (I think it is going to make toast as well, but that will cost an extra $400 million), it seems reasonable to suspect that not an insubstantial amount of additional money will be needed to realize this one-time use. And it has to be that. I really doubt the cost of putting up and taking down a soccer field in the midst of the dozens of major new events this place is supposed to draw for Javits is going to feasible on the MetroStars numbers. Take a look at this image and you tell me if you think you can fit a soccer field, or a running track in that snug lil’box. If you were wondering, a soccer pitch is typically 100-130 yards long (comprable to a football field), but between 70-100 yards wide (whereas a football field is only 50 yards or so wide). A easier way to compare is to look at a similar facility plan for the 2008 Games, Guangdong Stadium. Note that neatly inscribed inside the running track is a soccer pitch, which is larger than a standard football field. Now go back and look at this one more time and you tell me if you think someone is fudging the numbers a bit. If this facility is so goddamn important to the Olympics, how about we get a rendering of what the facility will look like without the words “Jets” scrawled all over it? Because it sure won’t look like this. A couple of questions that might be useful for vote tomorrow: is there additional expense incurred for the adaptation of the stadium for the Games, and is it currently shown in projected costs (Remember how Atlanta built a stadium and then tore half of it down to become the new home of tomohawkkin’ Jane Fonda’s ex’s Braves?)? If not, how much is this costing, and how is it being funded? Have is it been conclusively demonstrated that such a tight facility will indeed accomodate those events, regardless of cost? How long will the facility be unusable because of modifications (that is, if expanding the convention center is such an urgent issue, pushing off full use of the facility until perhaps 2011 as a convention center seems imprudent)? Even if we get good, solid information on all these points, can we ask again, who actually wants this thing? Can Bloomberg find anyone in Manhattan that doesn’t work for him that actually thinks this is a good thing for the borough?