My little boy had a birthday party to attend on the northern reaches of the Upper West Side this afternoon. As it happens, the party turned out to be a "drop off" party (meaning I wasn't required to stick around), so I suddenly found myself with two hours to kill north of 96th Street. I took full advantage of it.
Back in the 1990's, I spent quite a large amount of time in that neck of the woods. As I weepily detailed in this post for the New York Nobody Sings, I fleetingly dated a girl who lived on 102nd street. I also had a friend who lived across Broadway from her, and another just a few blocks up on 105th. Later on, another friend moved around the corner from her place on 101st and Amsterdam. Years after that, I started dating Peggy (who later became my wife), and she lived on 91st between Central Park West and Columbus. As such, I was something of a regular around those parts for a while.
Years prior to all that stuff, I remember my family making semi-regular pilgrimages to a Chinese restaurant on Broadway north of 96th Street (not too far from the ol' Symphony Space) called Hunan Balcony. I also vividly recall that adjacent to Hunan Balcony, there was a small, funky --- WAIT FOR IT -- record shop. I have a strange memory of my step-father going in there once to purchase an Abba album (1978's The Album -- which had just come out, featuring "Take a Chance on Me" and "The Name of the Game," if you must know), before shuffling us into Hunan Balcony for a meal. We sat on the second floor (the "balcony" in question), and I looked out the window as a trio of malt liquor-swiggin' dudes leaned against our car, which we'd parked just across Broadway.
In any case, prior to today, I probably hadn't spent any significant amount of time in that neighborhood since around 1999, so to be walking those streets again was a bit of a trip. Certain friends' old addresses looked unchanged, while others were barely recognizable. In some instances, storefronts that formerly housed regular haunts were completely missing (not unlike back downtown), replaced by hopeful new businesses. The comic shops, bookstores and record stores I used to visit were all gone of course, although -- mercifully -- I noticed some favorite old bars like The Abbey Pub (105th Street), the Broadway Dive (102nd Street) and Cannon's (108th street) all still looked to be open for business.
Even the Hunan Balcony is still there. I was saddened to notice, however, that a few blocks north of there, the fabled Metro Movie theatre remains not only closed, but in a deteriorating state of tragic disrepair (see pic at top). I don't remember going to too many movies back in the day, but I'll forever associate it with the scene below from Woody Allen's "Hannah & Her Sisters."
Recent Comments