photographed by Jamie Newman - StarvedArtStar
Sunday
saturday night special - birds fly in any weather
Antik has been around for a little while and is located on the Bowery - it's low-key on some nights, and raging with party people on another. Some people have problems with their lack of a formal bar-area at Antik, but there's a bar downstairs and it's mostly bottle service upstairs on the big nights. Antik is a nice (somewhat dark and "clubby" space) to get beligerantly drunk or just take it easy with a couple friends, it would all depend on the night you choose to go.
Marion's, which is next door and owned by the same people, and is in my mind more what i look for in a drinking destination. It has big, comfortable lounge seating, a big enough bar-area and has a small back area for the fam to get wet (excuse my slang, please). I like to go to Marion's on Saturdays, at the moment, but this changes with the wind, as it does with many New Yorkers). Staying under the radar on the Saturday night special is where the smart money is if you want to avoid (as much as humanly possible) the weekender warriors who use lower Manhattan as there own personal frat house. Luckily for us, many of these unfortunate souls will hop in their late-model Japanese cars and go back over the bridge or tunnel they crawled out of by Sunday morning.
this momentary impulse of office drones and greasers helps fuel the economy of said metropolis, so i really have no problem with it. I either stay in and guard myself and loved-ones from the sea of hair gel, or I go to places like Antik/Marion's on the Bowery. We have it sewn-up, there are enough attractive people to not make it feel like a Monday, and the scotch flows freely.
As an Apache warrior once told me before he drove off in his pickup, "the eagle soars under the radar...." I would have to say this is not a bad place to do it, though of-late its becoming more popular.
Marion's, which is next door and owned by the same people, and is in my mind more what i look for in a drinking destination. It has big, comfortable lounge seating, a big enough bar-area and has a small back area for the fam to get wet (excuse my slang, please). I like to go to Marion's on Saturdays, at the moment, but this changes with the wind, as it does with many New Yorkers). Staying under the radar on the Saturday night special is where the smart money is if you want to avoid (as much as humanly possible) the weekender warriors who use lower Manhattan as there own personal frat house. Luckily for us, many of these unfortunate souls will hop in their late-model Japanese cars and go back over the bridge or tunnel they crawled out of by Sunday morning.
this momentary impulse of office drones and greasers helps fuel the economy of said metropolis, so i really have no problem with it. I either stay in and guard myself and loved-ones from the sea of hair gel, or I go to places like Antik/Marion's on the Bowery. We have it sewn-up, there are enough attractive people to not make it feel like a Monday, and the scotch flows freely.
As an Apache warrior once told me before he drove off in his pickup, "the eagle soars under the radar...." I would have to say this is not a bad place to do it, though of-late its becoming more popular.
Saturday
JG Melon's - Hamburger to NYC stars
J.G Melon's has been a mainstay of my diet since i was a wee tyke running around the upper east side. i frequent it whenever possible (usually when it is overrun with cougars, housewives and alcoholic executives - the best time to beat the rush and to see the UES breathe). Hands down, they make the best hamburger in New York City. In fact, as far as I am concerned, the only one better can be found at Louis Lunch in New Haven, and they LITERALLY invented the damn thing. So, if your not too bauhaus to venture up to the capitol of venture capital, try the burger at Melon's. Like some of New Yorks best, you may have to wait, and they don't tend to play favorites. Practially everyone's a regular.
get your money up, they don't take that plastic.
photo above of Baron Von Fancy at Melon's on the upper deck
starved for attention? or ordained access...
tired of serving the servants to our corporate culture of conspicuous consumption and disgusted by the deluge of mediocrity being passed-off as genuine prose, i have decided to leap back into the shallow shark-tank head-first, so as to make maximum impact - or at best manage to decapitate or dismember myself on the way into this media circus.
Writing was always a labor for me in my early years, but after years in the trenches of a pinko progressive education i realized that i had mistakenly become somewhat or a warrior poet; a genuine incarnation of some dead Greek poet, or at least one capable of expressing myself in words without weighing them down with the rules and maxims of language that create the barriers between what we say and what we mean. I write what i mean, however based on fact or farce it may be is up to the reader, but it is hard to deny the fact that i have a voice - a voice that tends to have the subtly of a velvet hammer. That being said, why not pawn off this crafted ability to mix words as a marketable skill? Why cant i make a few shekels for my eloquent use of literary diction, or the simple fact that i can speak on anything, even if i hardly know what I'm talking about?
In this day of the inter-web and technological extensions of the body and mind, i believe the information is utterly accessible, all that's needed is a proper wordsmith to craft it into something worth reading - worth taking the time in your work-a-day world to absorb, maybe even enjoy...
Let me be this cultural attache, this warrior of decent and deranged culture, this minister of information, a priest of the populous.
Writing was always a labor for me in my early years, but after years in the trenches of a pinko progressive education i realized that i had mistakenly become somewhat or a warrior poet; a genuine incarnation of some dead Greek poet, or at least one capable of expressing myself in words without weighing them down with the rules and maxims of language that create the barriers between what we say and what we mean. I write what i mean, however based on fact or farce it may be is up to the reader, but it is hard to deny the fact that i have a voice - a voice that tends to have the subtly of a velvet hammer. That being said, why not pawn off this crafted ability to mix words as a marketable skill? Why cant i make a few shekels for my eloquent use of literary diction, or the simple fact that i can speak on anything, even if i hardly know what I'm talking about?
In this day of the inter-web and technological extensions of the body and mind, i believe the information is utterly accessible, all that's needed is a proper wordsmith to craft it into something worth reading - worth taking the time in your work-a-day world to absorb, maybe even enjoy...
Let me be this cultural attache, this warrior of decent and deranged culture, this minister of information, a priest of the populous.
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