The Scourge of Grease Recycling Trucks (and the Deteriorating Quality of Life Around Petrosino Park)

Below are remarks I’m planning to make at the next meeting of Community Board 2 on September 24:

I’m here to talk to you about the noise pollution caused by grease recycling trucks, which are primarily operated by a company called NYC Clean Air Group. These trucks typically start operating at 7am, run for 20 to 30 minutes at a time and can be heard from several blocks away. I’ve emailed the company several times and asked if they could schedule their trucks for after 9am, and they initially agreed to do so, but continued to schedule them at 7am. The result has been that I’ve been woken up at 7am at least once a week for the past several years and this has affected my physical and mental health. (Not surprisingly, noise is recognized as a prohibited form of abuse by the Geneva Conventions.)

I’ve even taken to moving to a couch in the back of my apartment when this noise starts, but I can still hear it even in the back of my apartment with my windows closed and a pillow over my head.

The company maintains that they are legally allowed to start operating at 7am (I’m picturing someone from their company holding a stop watch), but just because you’re legally allowed to do something doesn’t mean you should. It’s also legal to carry a concealed weapon in some parts of this country.

I would compare this problem to the recent outcry about data centers. AI companies say they serve an important need, but they also create a lot of noise and use a lot of water and energy. (Granted, grease recycling trucks don’t have the capacity to wipe out civilization.)

I think we’ve all witnessed a deteriorating qualify of life around Petrosino Park, whether it’s skateboarders commandeering Lafayette Street, people showing up with amplified sound equipment, buildings being turned into 3D advertisements, the lines we see outside every retail establishment, and companies taking over not just the sidewalk but sometimes the street itself in order to promote their products.

I would like to add that my city council member, Christopher Marte, hasn’t responded to a single email I’ve sent him throughout his two terms in office, even though I spoke to him in person outside my polling location before his first term about quality of life issues in Nolita (which, at that time, just concerned the skateboarders on Lafayette Street and the garbage and graffiti around Petrosino Park).

My local precinct, the Fifth Precinct (which is in Chinatown), has also been somewhat unresponsive. There really should be another police precinct for Nolita and Soho. Maybe they could return the Police Building to its original function!

Thank you for listening.

UPDATE: I discussed this at the last CB2 meeting and am planning to discuss it again at a meeting they've scheduled with DEP.

UPDATE: I discussed this again at the CB2 meeting with DEP. Let's see if there's any improvement.

UPDATE: Here's what I learned after attending the CB2 meeting: There are many sources of noise in this city (as well as people complaining about them) and the city is not equipped to deal with them. Because of my location across from Petrosino Park, I'm subject to many of these sources. In addition to the aforementioned grease recycling trucks (which woke me up again this morning), there are: delivery trucks servicing the restaurants around Petrosino Park; garbage trucks servicing the restaurants around Petrosino Park; the leaf blower in Petrosino Park; people showing up with microphones, amplifiers and musical instruments in Petrosino Park; the music that many restaurants and stores are playing outside their restaurants and stores (as well as inside), as well as the omnipresent lines in front of them (I'm looking at you, Mimi's Frozen Yogurt); construction noise (the street in front of my building has been dug up three times in the last month alone); cars honking their horns (Kenmare Street is a dead end at Lafaytte Street, so the surrounding blocks are frequently gridlocked) and drunk bar-goers on the weekend (La Esquina is Exhibit A in this area). Add to this the fact that 311 a joke and Christopher Marte and the Fifth Precinct are useless and you have a recipe for non-stop sleep deprivation and noise rage.

The Heterosexualization of Christopher Street

Last night I had a disturbing experience.

It started when I went to see a show called Broad Strokes at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, which starred a 35-year-old actress and comedian named Cat Cohen. I noticed that I was nearly twice as old as everyone in the audience. While I have to admit there were some clever lines, the audience around me was lapping it up. (Maybe young people have a different sense of humor?)

But the real shock happened when I left the theater. I was suddenly surrounded by straight people!

Next door to the theater, in the space that was previously occupied by gay bar The Hangar was something called Dandelion. Was it a bar? Was it a restaurant? All I could tell was that there was a vaguely exclusionary vibe. Think Studio 54, but, unlike Studio 54, it appeared they were trying to keep out gay people!

Now I realize this is partly a story about gentrification. After all, I’m sure the cocktails they were selling were more expensive than the beer that was The Hangar’s stock in trade.

Across the street from the theater was L’Industrie Pizza in the space formerly occupied by the gay Factory Café (I used to call it the Fag-tory Café), an establishment that usually has a long line in front. (I thought this obnoxious habit only happened in my neighborhood!)

Around the corner on Bleecker Street, there’s yet another pizza place called Mama’s Too, which also has a line in front of it!

Even the landmark Village Cigars is now a bar! What in the name of Stonewall is happening?!

I’m old enough to remember when the West Village was synonymous with gay pride. The Stonewall, which still exists on Christopher Street, was the site of the Stonewall riots, the unofficial start of the gay pride movement.

In the ’90s, the gay population gravitated to Chelsea, because the rents were cheaper and the gay population of the West Village had been decimated by AIDS. The rise of Chelsea as a gay neighborhood coincided with the opening of the upscale bar Splash and the building of the Grand Chelsea apartment building. Eighth Avenue became the new gay Champs Elysees with numerous gay bars and restaurants such as Food, Big Cup, Viceroy, Gym Bar, The Break, G Lounge and Barracuda.

Then, in the 2000s, the gays migrated again (also because of rising rents) to Hell’s Kitchen. In the meantime, the West Village was going from upscale to super luxury.

Hudson River Park was developed, launching a Starchitects' Row of co-ops and condos along the West Side Highway. (Why the creators of the West Village Historic District didn’t extend the boundaries to the Hudson River has to be one of the worst mistakes in New York history.) As gentrification crept from the Hudson River all the way to Sixth Avenue, it took a number of gay bars, restaurants and retail establishments with it, among them Badlands, All American Boy and now The Hangar.

After the show, I crossed the street and walked into Ty’s. the venerable gay bar where my late partner was the doorman for 20 years. Some of the old familiar faces were still there: bartenders Julian and Gary, as well as a new barback who looked surprisingly like my late partner.

It’s nice to know that some things never change.

All the News That’s Fit to Print (Online)

The Holy Grail

My day started off badly. I had a 9am appointment to speak to a health insurance advisor and they stood me up.

So I decided to head to where I work in midtown Manhattan. Bryant Park, to be precise, 42nd Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenue. (You can’t get any more midtown Manhattan than that!)

Now, normally, I buy The New York Times in the morning so I can read it before I go to work at 11am. There are two newsstands within one block of my apartment. (They’re both owned by Iconic Magazines.)

I see now that that’s an anomaly.

I spent about 45 minutes frantically searching midtown Manhattan for a copy of The New York Times. (Did I mention that I was in midtown Manhattan in New York City, the largest city in the United States? Indeed, where The New York Times is printed?)

I could not find a copy.

I did see several newsstands. They were either completely shut or they didn’t have any newspapers. (Yes, we now have newsstands that don’t actually sell any newspapers!)

Now I know I’m going to get a lot of flack for this (in fact, I already have), but I like to read the print edition of The New York Times. I like to look through the entire physical paper and decide what I want to read.

Some of you will say, “But everyone reads it online!”

Yes, but who decides what to put on the front page of their website? Not me!

I know some editor will decide what they think are the most important stories, but some stories are sure to fall through the cracks, especially if I’m not looking for them.

Like on Friday, for example, there was a review of a new movie called Late Fame, which I would not have known existed if I had not seen the review in the print edition.

Would the online editor of The New York Times have deemed that important enough to put on the front page of their website? Surely, there was some major studio release that would have warranted more attention.

I know I’m a dinosaur—and proud of it!

In a similar fashion, I know that there’s a whole universe of TV shows out there for me to watch, but I like to channel surf until I find something I like. That’s just how I operate.

I did finally find a copy of The New York Times at a deli in Chelsea. But now the news would be one and a half days old, as a friend of mine helpfully pointed out.

But the important thing is that I get to decide what I read—even if it’s a day and a half old.

Late Fame/Shoot the Moon

Late Fame is the story of a poet, Ed Saxberger (Willem Dafoe), who published a book of poetry in 1979, but since then has led a quiet, uneventful life as a postal worker.

He’s discovered by a group of young artist-wannabes who have dubbed themselves The Enthusiasm Society and is invited by them to take part in a reading they are planning.

One of the group’s members is an older, mysterious Asian actress named Gloria (a fabulous Greta Lee) who develops a crush on Saxberger.

Maybe I’m flattering myself by saying this, but I so identified with the character played by Willem Dafoe that I practically burst into tears.

Like his character, my “career” peaked in 1979 (the year I graduated high school) and I moved to New York City in 1981, four years after his character does.

There are many nice touches in this movie that rang true to me.

The self-described groups of artists turns out to be a bunch of trust fund babies, most of whom haven’t actually read Saxberger’s work. The most pretentious of the bunch, Meyers (Edmund Donovan), points out that his sleek Soho apartment was purchased for him by his father as an investment. “It was cheaper than the dorms at NYU,” he says.

Saxberger’s friends are a group of working-class men whom Saxberger refuses to invite to his poetry reading because he doesn’t think they’d appreciate it, and who mock him when they discover his creative past.

There’s a moment in the movie when Saxberger and Gloria are walking through Soho and Saxberger describes living in Soho in the ’70s like “living on the Moon.”

At the end of the movie, Saxberger reconciles with his working-class buddies, perhaps as a result of discovering the phoniness of his new group of admirers.

This weekend, I also caught Shoot the Moon on TCM (which I hadn’t seen before), one of the most explosive depictions of a marriage falling apart I’ve ever seen, with amazing performances from Diane Keaton and Albert Finney as the divorcing couple. The ending of this movie is particularly shocking, but there are shocking moments throughout, as well as a surprisingly touching performance by Peter Weller (the future star of Robocop).

Cats: The Jellicle Ball

I now understand why there was such an outcry online over Cats: The Jellicle Ball posting a closing notice of August 8 after opening in April. The amount of talent on display in this show—the singing, dancing, choreography and costumes (Cats won Tonys for Best Direction of a Musical, Best Choreography and Best Costume Design of a Musical, and deservedly so)—is incredible.

I’ve always tried to support gay artists (and I suppose every Broadway show has some gay artists within their ranks), but it must be said that trans people—and particularly trans people of color—are the most marginalized segment of the LGBT community. So to see this display of sheer pride and joy coming from this community is particularly moving.

There’s a larger issue here, too.

Broadway musicals are struggling right now because of the huge costs involved in mounting (and attending) them. On the flip side, straight (i.e., nonmusical) plays with celebrity casts are doing better and star-studded plays are now moving to off-Broadway. The economics of Broadway are such that, like movies, it’s become the realm of revivals and adaptations. Very little original work is being done on Broadway.

Cats: The Jellicle Ball, while ostensibly a revival, is a complete reimagining that makes it an original Broadway show in its own right.

And that brings up another issue, which is the Tony Awards.

There was a big controversy this year over which musical should win the award for Best Revival of a Musical. It was seen primarily as a competition between Ragtime (which I didn't see and did win the Tony) and Cats.

I think a lot of times the Tony Award is given to the show which is considered to have the best chance of touring and Cats may just have been seen as “too gay” and/or “too Black” for middle America.

That should not be seen as a criticism of Cats, but a criticism of middle America. Cats: The Jellicle Ball may not have a big audience, but they have a devoted audience. I’ve never seen an audience reaction to a show like I’ve seen for Cats.

Everyone associated with this show should be proud of their work. The reason this show is closing is not their fault.

It’s ours.

Jill Clayburgh/Starting Over/An Unmarried Woman

Last night, Turner Classic Movies (TCM) featured a Jill Clayburgh lineup, including Starting Over (1979) and An Unmarried Woman (1978). Clayburgh was one of the most important film actresses of the 1970s (along with women like Jane Fonda and Meryl Streep), but I feel like younger audiences (i.e., those under 50) might not be familiar with her work. (Marsha Mason is another great ’70s actress who I feel has been forgotten. Perhaps TCM will devote a night to her as well—but I digress.)

And while I saw both Starting Over and An Unmarried Woman when they were originally released, it was so long ago that I had forgotten them and they now function as time capsules of that period. And since the ’70s is my favorite period of film, they unleashed a whole bunch of emotions and memories.

This was the era of women’s liberation, Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman” and Ms. magazine, and these two films are emblematic of that. An Unmarried Woman, in particular, seems to focus on women’s emerging sexual liberation, as it discusses such things as female orgasm and dating younger men.

Starting Over seems a little bit corny by today’s standards. (I missed the beginning, so I might have to—wait for it—start that one over!) But it was notable for a few reasons.

It was Candice Bergen’s first comedic role after being cast (miscast?) in a series of dramatic roles (most famously, Carnal Knowledge). It also marked a transition for Burt Reynolds from sex symbol/action hero to a more sophisticated comedic role, playing a college professor (complete with tweed jacket with elbow patches).

Some interesting tidbits about both films which tie them to the ’70s: Both films make references to Valium and therapy, and feature scenes at Bloomingdale’s. (An Unmarried Woman also features a pre-gentrification Soho in which artists still lived!)

Some interesting biographical notes (which TCM host Ben David Mankiewiz helpfully supplied): Starting Over was written by James L. Brooks, the co-creator of such TV shows as The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Taxi, who, a few years later, would win several Oscars for Terms of Endearment.

An Unmarried Woman was written by Paul Mazursky, who I feel is an auteur on the same level as Woody Allen. (I attended both Paul Mazursky and Woody Allen film festivals in the pre-VHS/DVD/streaming era, when revival houses like the Bleecker Street Cinema and Cinema Village were important parts of New York City’s cultural landscape.)

Missing from the line-up (not surprisingly) was Bernardo Bertolucci’s Luna, in which Clayburgh plays a woman who has sex with her son!

Next up: Marsha Mason, who was married to Neil Simon (who wrote her Oscar-winning role in The Goodbye Girl) and starred in such edgy fare as Cinderella Liberty.

Human League/Soft Cell/Alison Moyet Generations Tour at Radio City Music Hall

Since there was no Cruel World festival this year, I did what I thought what was the next best thing: I bought a ticket to see Human League, Soft Cell and Alison Moyet’s Generations Tour at Radio City Music Hall.

Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me” and Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love” are probably two of the most popular songs of the ’80s and, even though I’d recently seen Soft Cell and Moyet at Cruel World, I hadn’t seen Human League since the early ’80s at New York City’s Palladium. (Human League’s set at Cruel World was cut short by “severe weather,” but I was watching Iggy Pop at one of Cruel World’s other stages. His set was also cut short.)

First of all, it must be said that Radio City Music Hall is a breathtaking venue. Not only is it the largest indoor theater in the world, it’s also one of the most beautiful. I was trying to think of some of the other shows I’d seen there: Talking Heads’ Remain in Light tour (where I sat in the last row), Pet Shop Boys, B52s, Sade. (Yes, it’s been a while.)

Alison Moyet opened the show. Moyet owes a lot of her early success to Vince Clarke, the songwriter for their duo, Yazoo (Yaz in the US) as well as early Depeche Mode and Erasure, and she performed several Yazoo songs: “Don’t Go,” “Situation,” “Only You,” “Nobody’s Diary.” I wasn’t as familiar with some of her solo work (except for “Love Resurrection”) and I thought the bass player in her band was a little loud, overpowering her vocals and the other instruments, but she received rapturous applause, nonetheless.

Next up was Soft Cell, which now consists solely of founding vocalist Marc Almond, since multi-instrumentalist and producer David Ball passed away last year. (Almond paid tribute to Ball at the end of his set.)

Soft Cell’s breakthrough album, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret captured a certain era of New York and London nightlife. Videos during their set featured ’80s New York celebrities like Klaus Nomi and John Sex and clubs like the Pyramid and Danceteria. Almond performed a new song called “Danceteria” (from Soft Cell’s new album, also named Danceteria) and mentioned that he was wearing a Danceteria T-shirt. (There’s also a song called “Danceteria” on Madonna’s new album, Confessions II. I wonder if Jim Fouratt and Rudolf are getting royalties?)

I thought Almond’s vocals sounded a little thin at first, but he recovered nicely on “Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” and, of course, “Tainted Love.” (Is it the difficulty of reproducing recorded vocals live or just my memory? I’ll have to go back and listen to my 12-inch single of “Memorabilia.”)

I also liked “Nostalgia Machine,” a 2022 song I wasn’t familiar with, and, interestingly, he performed a cover of Was (Not Was)’s “Out Come the Freaks” (also from Danceteria).

Finally, Human League. Their 1981 album, Dare, was a watershed album, scoring several hits in the UK, and its songs featured heavily in their set: “The Sound of the Crowd,” “The Things That Dreams Are Made Of,” “Seconds” “Love Action” and, of course, “Don’t You Want Me.” They also performed “Mirror Man,” “Louise,” “The Lebanon,” “Human,” “Tell Me When,” “(Keep Feeling) Fascination” and “Together in Electric Dreams,” lead singer Philip Oakey’s collaboration with Giorgio Moroder.

Oakey sounded even better than I expected and so did backup singers Joanne Catherall and Susan Ann Sulley, who sang lead vocal on (previously unfamiliar to me) “One Man in My Heart.”

All of which is to say that I was magically transported to early ’80s New York after-hours club, Berlin, where I first heard most of these songs. (The pre-show ’80s soundtrack also helped.)

And who could blame me for wanting to, as Cher might say, “turn back time.”

After all, I’m only human.