Take Me to The Bridge

Sorry for the relative slowdown. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. Work has been somewhat hectic, my daughter’s in the process of deciding which high school she’s going to attend and we had a couple of near-misses on a new apartment. That said, the New York City real estate scene can be a perilous hotbed of nasty duplicity, as we’re finding out first-hand. Not that we didn’t already know that, but we had an unfortuante encounter, recently, wherein we really got our hopes up about a potential new space, only to see those hopes dashed by some frankly shady bullshit. In any case, we have way too much going on.

I had been working on a post based on a truly surreal evening on Ludlow Street last week, but that will have to wait for a bit. Suffice to say, if, like me, you harbor a fondness for the era of Ludlow Street marked by ventures like the original Max Fish, the Luna Lounge, the Pink Pony Café, the original Barramundi, the Cake Shop and Motor City, you would do well to avoid the current iteration of that storied street. Also, if you’re only attending a function ostensibly as someone’s plus one, it’s probably best not to get into a big, heated music dispute and, evidently, ruin someone’s evening by showing them up. Yeah, I did that. Oops.

Also, remember back in early January when I posted about undertaking Dry January in the hopes of combating the “weak-willed shit” that typically decimates my resolve? Well, guess who was blown off that pompous horse after only five days? I was. The so-called “bomb cyclone” put an end to my Dry January in embarrassingly stealthy order. As such, haunted by both that failure and a need to curtail our spending habits, I am looking to undertake what I am referring to as Austere February. Sounds like a barrel of laughs, don’t it? Needs must, as the idiom goes. Watch this space.

But enough of my silly bullshit. I spotted this on the Instagram page of the Brooklyn Bridge (who knew it had one?) and thought I’d share it here. I strenuously doubt our David ever rocked this particular garment whilst on the bridge in question, thus I surmise that this image is the work of some deft photoshopping. It also came appended with a quote.

"I realized the other day that I've lived in New York longer than I've lived anywhere else. It's amazing: I am a New Yorker. It's strange; I never thought I would be." -- David Bowie

Now, while I'm not normally in the habit of casting doubt about anything David Bowie would have said, just because he lived here longer than anywhere else in his life, did that, in face, render him a bona fide New Yorker? What say you?

Discuss.

Comments

[URLBrenner]

The current WTC is in the background and there are supports on David's feet. I'm not the first to notice this, right? At first glance it does look real.

Re: Dry January. Really dude, you caved that early? Don't wanna brag but I haven't had a drink since Jan. 1, but that's all gonna change when I go on vacay in a few weeks. My body will probably go into some sort of booze shock. Enjoy Austere February!

[Chung Wong]

The photo is photoshopped. Here is the 1973 original by Masayoshi Sukita of Tokyo, labelled Watch That Man III. They worked together for 4 decades. http://www.morrisonhotelgallery.com/photographs/TwqsID/David-Bowie-Watch-That-Man-III

[Chung Wong]

David Bowie bought his first New York home in 1992 at Essex House (sold 2002). In 1999, he bought a pair of condos on Lafayette and converted them. This would be his last home until his death in 2016. He lived his entire retirement from 2006, a decade, at that home, not hanging out but just living and dying in the City. He lived full-time in New York for 24 years. Before this he was a visitor hanging out at places like Max's Kansas City in the 1970s, living a nomadic life like many artists recording in LA, NYC and London mostly. He lived full-time in New York City triple the time John Lennon did. Lou Reed was not originally from New York and also lived many years in NYC. If defined by how artists not born in NYC are New Yorkers, Bowie is definitely a New Yorker. If defined by time living here, 24 years should qualify as being a New Yorker. He worked with his neighbor, New York theatre Workshop, on Lazarus in his final year of life, and shot his final videos while dying in New York City. He considered it his home more than any other city to the death. He lived in 2 neighborhoods in NYC for a decade or more each. If defined by personality, he is not Jewish, Italian or Chinese or from Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx or Manhattan. He is not from a New York community. But that would be true of any place. He was an alien everywhere. If defined by accent, he definitely did not have a New York accent. But he lived a very private life in New York City, walking anonymously as a New Yorker in the streets longer than any young adult New Yorker. He got along with all kinds of people in New York, more than the average New Yorker. It would be hard to set criteria to disqualify him as a New Yorker that would not disqualify millions of other New Yorkers.

[Alex in NYC]

Most of my favorite New Yorkers were transplants, but I see the argument persisting that only a *native* can call themselves a proper New Yorker, but it's all bullshit: http://vassifer.blogs.com/alexinnyc/2015/02/native.html