"The Immigrant" with Jeremy Renner and Joaquin Phoenix (2014)

When Ewa Cybulska; played by Marion Cotillard; arrives in America with her sister Magda ; played by Angela Sarafyan; she expects to be greeted by her family and become acquainted with her new homeland. Instead, her sister is denied entry due to tuberculosis and she is set to be deported because her relatives never showed up. This is the beginning if an ethereal film which takes you on Ewa’s journey in the America of the 1920’s and Prohibition.

Joaquin Phoenix plays Bruno Weiss, who first meets Ewa at Ellis Island. He spots her in the line of persons to be interred before deportation and offers to help her out. He slips the guard a bribe to let him take her back to Manhattan with her on the boat.

Ewa’s first days are marked by getting to know the other women who seem to all know Bruno. With her limited English Ewa is hard pressed to find out what these girls do and how they all know Bruno, who presents himself as a promoter of some sort. In reality he runs a string of prostitutes and intends to make Ewa one of them.

Bruno’s cousin Orlando; played by Jeremy Renner; is a magician at the nightclub which features “shows” performed by Bruno’s girls. When Bruno puts her onstage for the first time she is savaged by the audience with verbal abuse and erotic suggestions. As a devout Catholic she withdraws within herself to fend off the fear and confusion she feels; not to mention the betrayal by Bruno.

As Bruno draws Ewa more deeply into his world of degradation we see the effect it has upon him. He begins to love her without knowing how to express it. In reality; although she is the one being degraded, Bruno is the one who suffers for it. The irony is that he basically suffers the consequences of his own decisions. While she has her religion to fall back upon; he has nothing.

Meantime, Ewa forms a bond of sorts with Orlando which allows her to transcend the terrible things happening to her as she awaits a chance to get her sister out of quarantine and begin her life without Bruno.

This is a much nuanced film, with beautiful cinematography. It is a bit slow paced; perhaps deliberately so; to let the viewer feel the uncertainty of the events being experienced by Ewa. Real life is like that; things which are unfamiliar seem to drag by until you get used to the routine. The film is directed by James Gray from a script he co-write with Ric Menello .

"Moscow On the Hudson" with Robin Williams (1984)

It’s hard to believe that this film is almost 30 years old already. And it’s not dated at all. The absence of cell phones and laptops is hardly noticeable in this carefully directed comedy/drama by Paul Mazursky; in which Robin Williams plays a Russian saxophone player, Vladimir Ivanoff, on tour with the Moscow Circus, and his sudden decision to defect.

The film is extraordinary in that it shows the lines in Moscow for consumer goods in the last days of the Socialist Soviet Republic. When walking down the street and seeing a line, you simply joined it; no matter if was a line for toilet paper, or food; both were in short demand. So, when Vladimir is slated to go to New York as part of a cultural exchange, he has no basis with which to compare the abundance of the west with his homeland in Russia.

Ironically, Vladimir is not even interested in defecting, as is a friend of his who is a fellow circus performer. The choice to make this character a “sad clown” was brilliant, and his face, as he leaves for the airport without having defected, is hard to forget. Vladimir; on the other hand; is quite believable as a jazz enthused musician whose soul cannot possibly endure a return to Moscow.

The real “meat” of this movie occurs when the circus troupe stops by Bloomingdale’s; a symbol of western decadence; for a shopping trip on their way to the airport on the way home to Russia, Vladimir is seized by all that he has seen and heard in New York City. After he has been to Harlem, and played in a jazz club, how could he ever go home again? The artistic freedom is the magnet which lures him to his most bold and daring act; he defects in Bloomingdale’s, leaving his Russian KGB handlers baffled as to what; if anything; they can do about it. And as Vladimir watches his friends departing for the airport, he is standing outside of Bloomingdale’s, screaming “Freedom!” in English and Russian to his friends.

This film came out when I was still working aboard ships, and so I missed it at the time it was released. For one reason or another, I have never seen it until now. And what a pleasure to find that it still rings true. With all of our differences; and in spite of our seeming disengagement from one another; both politically and socially; we are; as shown in the final moments of the film; a nation of immigrants. And I find a strange sort of comfort in that.

Ticket to Ride - A Story (1965)

This song was the backdrop to a summer adventure I had at the age of 10 and a half years old. I was on the roof of 1310 Avenue R., in Brooklyn, New York, where my family lived in an apartment on the 2^nd floor. It was not unusual to go up and sit on the roof; or “tar beach”, as it was known back then; to get some sun without going actually going to the beach, which was less than 1 mile from our apartment. But there was something about the roof that drew me. Maybe it was the privacy, or the smell of the roof itself, with its tar seams emanating that special odor familiar to all who have lived in large apartment buildings.

The radio reception, 7 stories above ground, was excellent; as was the view. You could look North and see the skyline of Manhattan, or Southwest to see Coney Island. It was a fantastic place to be young on a hot summer day; and with the music from my 6 transistor radio; life was complete. And, that’s when I noticed the planes.

We lived a bit less than 20 miles from JFK airport in Queens. As I lay there I noticed; seemingly for the first time; that all the planes were headed towards one place to the Southeast of us. And that place was JFK. This caused my 10 and a half year old brain light up like one of those idea bulbs in the cartoons! So, with the Beatles singing "Ticket To Ride" playing on my radio, I knew what my mission was. I would ride my bicycle to the airport.

My bicycle, at that time, was an old single speed, foot braked Huffy with balloon tires. Not the best conveyance for the journey I was about to undertake;  but as the sailor said, “Any port in a storm.” And so, with that bit of reasoning in my head I gathered up my things, radio included, and headed down to the first floor where my bicycle was stored in what was called the “carriage room.” The carriage room was a place where the building’s residents stored their baby buggies, bicycles, and just about anything else that you didn’t want to lug up and down to your apartment.

Unchaining my bicycle I wheeled it out into the bright sunlit day, hopped aboard, and pedaled South down East 14^th Street towards Sheepshead Bay. From there I knew that could access the Belt Parkway and head towards the airport. When I got to the Parkway I realized, seemingly for the first time, that I would have to ride on the thin shoulder of the Parkway to accomplish my goal. It seemed a bit risky, with cars flying past me at 60 miles an hour; several even honked; but I was determined. More than that; I was committed; as only a10 and a half year old can be, to ride that bike to the airport. It would be a major component of my summer vacation. This would be the subject for the ubiquitous “What I Did with My Summer” composition required of all students each year when school resumed in September. In short;  I was on a mission.

Getting to the Parkway was easy enough; I knew the streets of my neighborhood like the back of my hand. It was only when I had ridden a few miles on the Parkway that I began to realize the journey which lay ahead  of me was not going to be as easy as I thought. There were actually parts of the road which had no shoulder at all;  and I found myself dangerously squeezed between the high speed traffic and a chain link fence! At other points I was forced to ride my bike in the grassy, and aloso sandy, strips which ran alongside of the highway. This was hard going on a bicycle with balloon tires and no gears. But I pushed on.

By the time I got to Plum Beach; where my family used to go for cookouts in the summer; I knew I was going to make it. And, within about 45 more minutes I was there! The planes were coming in low and loud as I arrived. The noise was deafening, but my pulse was pounding with excitement at what I had accomplished. In my mind, not even Marco Polo had ever faced the challenges which I had overcome on my journey, and I wanted to share that joy. So, I called home, using the  dime which my parents always insisted my brother and I carry in case of emergency. It was taped to the back of one of my Dad’s business cards and only to be removed for that one important phone call; presumably to be made only if I had been kidnapped or killed.

But this was big; and I mean big! I had traveled almost 20 miles on a balloon tired, one speed Huffy, with only a transistor radio for company, and no money, except for that dime. I could have bought a soda, or a candy bar. But I didn’t. I called home to share my accomplishment with my folks. As they were both home, I assume this was on a weekend.

I dialed our home number with the greatest of expectations. Surely my journey would be lauded as the greatest achievement since Columbus had discovered America. My Mom answered the phone, and unable to contain myself I blurted out, “Guess where I am?” Mom didn’t want to play this game, instead insisting that I tell her where I was,  and what all that noise was. I told her, with great pride, that I was at the airport, and moreover, that I had made the journey by bicycle on the Belt Parkway. I think she shrieked. At any rate, the next voice I heard was that of my father. He was furious with me, taking me to task for going further than I was allowed to go on my bicycle. He then proceeded to dress me down as being the most stupid human being alive for taking such a dangerous journey, fraught, as it was with peril. It was "a miracle that I had not been killed" making the journey.

I was then instructed to "get back on my bicycle and come home immediately." And to make matters worse, I now owed my parents the dime, which I had misused by calling them for a non-emergency. That dime would be taken out of my next week's allowance and replaced. It was years before I realized the idiocy of their reaction.  But, I’m still real proud of that bike ride.

"American Desperado" by Jon Roberts and Evan Wright

The very last thing which I expected when I began to read this book were lessons in morality. If this were an Inspirational Book it would not have caught me off guard in the way it did. This is, after all, the memoirs of a self-described very "evil" man. Jon Roberts learned long ago, from his father, that Evil is stronger than Good. And he took that lesson to heart as he robbed, killed and schemed his way through life, first in the streets, then in the jails, to Vietnam and then back to the streets.

Born Jon Riccobono, the son of a New York wise guy, Mr. Roberts had many opportunities to observe the evil in his father. When he was only 8 years old he witnessed his father shooting a man because he wouldn't back down off a one lane bridge. This incident sets the stage for the life Mr. Roberts would go on to lead.

The author has set the book up in an unusual way; it's almost a conversation. Mr. Wright asks a question, and Mr. Roberts tells a story in answer, often branching out into new areas. The book has a fluidity to it which makes it a very quick read at about 500 pages. Literally, the reader can turn to any page in this book and begin reading. The stories stand on their own, as well as being a part of a larger picture.

There are so many stories in this book, from robbing local drug dealers as a kid, to setting up his own drug operations, and eventually becoming a killer. The story takes the reader from Mr. Roberts’ beginnings in New York, to Vietnam, where he served in a LLRP unit, and then to Florida in the 1970's, just before the cocaine trade hit big time.

Eventually Mr. Roberts becomes involved in that cocaine trade, dodging the bullets of his rivals, as well as those of the American government. Only a secret deal with the CIA keeps Mr. Roberts from eventually paying the full price for all of the illegal things he has done.

To his credit, the author has no illusions about the "evil" things he has done. His beliefs concerning God and Satan are plainly expressed. This is no shallow, bullet headed mobster. This guy has his own set of morals, and is very adept at explaining them.

Extensively annotated with footnotes, this book throws a light on the failure of the drug war, and also explores just what it is that we seem to love about "gangsters." When Mr. Roberts, at the opening of the book, is introduced as the "Cocaine Cowboy" during a break in the game at Miami's American Airlines Arena, the place goes nuts! You would expect that the team had just won the championship.

A very engaging book which mirrors the society we live in, this book, with the careful guidance of the co-author, is at once a great story about mobsters and what they do; as well as a compelling look at ourselves and the human weaknesses which allow those mobsters to reign over a criminal empire; at times with the protection of our own government.

Happy New Year!

The New Year is upon us and it’s time, once again, to begin filling in the blank pages that each New Year brings with it. The photo to the left is of Times Square in New York on New Years Eve 1954. No resolutions for me this year, as those never quite make it past January 2nd. I’m not sure what the year holds in store for us all. The Mayan calendar has run out, and Mayans everywhere are distraught.

The Presidential Election looms, not large, it just looms; like a lurking presence; almost as a pretender to a process that has spawned some of the most vile candidates ever offered up in an election. And that's a hard thing to accomplish, as we have had some pretty bad choices in the past!

Whatever you do, make this a year of civility. Stop letting the forces of money and power divide us. Strive to seek common ground, and stick with it, eschewing all other differences you may have with one another, just for this one year. Think of what we can do together if we ignore the "window dressing" issues that are thrust in our face to divide and conquer us. I'm talking about abortion, gay rights, same-sex marriage, and all the other comparatively petty differences. It's time to save the country and re-store the economy to its former health.

Finally, to all the folks who drop in here, and especially the ones who come back again and again, thank you for finding something of interest in my posts. You amaze me; from the authors and celebrities who take the time to comment, or e-mail me, right down to the anonymous comments that are posted from time to time; you make me feel as if I have a purpose, even if that's just my own delusion.

A Very Happy and Healthy New Year to you all.

"Guys and Dolls" with Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra, Vivian Blaine, Jean Simmons and Stubby Kaye (1955)

One of my favorite movies is the 1955 version of "Guys and Dolls", which is based upon the Damon Runyon book of short stories about New York City during the 1930's and 1940's. From it's opening scene until the films finale; a double wedding at dawn in Times Square; this film just keeps giving, one delightful scene after another. And, as an added bonus, everyone in the film sings and dances. From Marlon Brando to Frank Sinatra and Stubby Kaye, all the stops are kicked out, as each of the stars sing, dance, and do comedy. These were the days when you really learned your craft on the live stage first, before making the transition to Hollywood and 30 second "takes".

The movie opens with a meander through the Times Square of olden days, when the streets were filled with con artists, hookers and gamblers. The film makes it all seem less sordid than it really was at the time. By the 1970's it was almost hazardous to walk in the area at night, especially after the theaters had closed.

This is one of my favorite scenes from the movie, actually, the whole movie is one of my favorite scenes! From the opening number shown above, right on through Marlon Brando singing a love song in Havana, this film is a pure delight.

Looking Back and Moving Forward

Sue and I took a trip up to New York for 3 days to say hello to my old friend Iona and her husband Dave. They live on the West Coast, so the trip was a treat for them, as well as Sue and I. We didn't do a whole lot, just walked around the old neighborhood on Kings Highway, passed by our old Junior High School and the apartments where we used to live. I haven't been back to Brooklyn in almost 10 years, so I really needed to "feel" the energy of the Big Apple. And it's still there, alive and kicking, filled with all kinds of people trying to make a buck, or a name, for themselves. The subway still had musicians playing in many of the cars, and some were really good!

Iona and I went to Juinor High together, only a few short years ago. I had never met David before. For me, it was instant friendship. This guy does it all, and with style! You should have seen him zipping in, and out, of traffic in the city all the way to Brooklyn and back. He's from the West Coast and navigated the streets of my old home town like a native.

New York is nothing without walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, so we did that on an overcast, and slightly rainy day. The bridge is undergoing a new paint job, but the majesty of the structure, along with the ingenuity of the concept of suspension bridges in general, always make this a wonderful thing to do in New York. And walking across with an old friend makes it even more special. The twin towers may be gone, but that indefineable spirit which makes New York the great place that it is, can never be destroyed. It goes on and on...

And what visit to New York would be complete without a visit to Little Italy? We happened to be there for the annual Feast of St Gennaro, and aside from the food there was this wonderfully colorful procession. This is the same procession depicted in the film "Mean Streets" with a very young Robert DeNiro. I used to go to this procession with my friends when I was young, and going back again, by chance, was really a bonus round for me. The Feast of San Gennaro is known for its food, and the procession itself, which heralds in an 11-day festival which honors the official "Saint Day", September 19th, when a celebratory Mass is held in the Most Precious Blood Church, followed by the religious procession in which the Statue of San Gennaro is carried from its permanent home in the church through the streets of Little Italy.

We didn't do all that much, it was a short 3 day visit, but the City of New York is still alive and well. The sights, smells and colors, along with a new crop of immigrants, make any visit to New York the unique treat that it always has been, and always will be.

New York, New York

I'm taking what may be my last trip back home to New York City. It's just a short visit, to reconnect with my roots. I don't carry a laptop, and my cell phone is just that, a phone, but I will try to post something from the hotel each day that I am gone. Meanwhile, as you are enjoying this video, I'll be looking at the real thing!

James Brown - "Live at the Apollo"

The one album which every music fan should hear is James Brown's recording "Live at The Apollo." It was recorded on October 24th, 1962 at New York's famed Apollo Theater in the midst of the Cuban Missle Crisis, which had been ongoing since October 18th, and would not come to a conclusion until October 29th.

There are several reasons why this album is an essential part of any music collection. The first is that it almost didn't happen. James Brown funded the recording independently, years before other artists would do so in a routine fashion, when Syd Nathan of King Records refused the money needed to record the show. He thought the idea was foolish. The album went on to become one of the top 100 records of all time.

Secondly, the quality of the recording is superb! The vocals are exceptionally crisp and clear, as are each and every instrument and backup vocal. The gospel like rendition of some of the songs gives the entire album a feel of spirituality and excitement. It's like being in a Southern Baptist Church. The audience reactions are a definite part of the proceedings.

Culturally the album reflects the Northern migration taking place at the time as African-Americans continued, as they had since the years before World War Two, to arrive from the South to the industrial cities of the North, bringing with them their own brand of music.



Having been recorded in the midst of the Cuban Missle Crisis lends an almost religous double entendre to songs such as "I Lost Someone", as well as the medley which begins with "Please, Please, Please." When they reach the part of the medley containing "I Lost Someone", which is the song posted here, Mr. Brown is clearly singing to God. The song is a love song to a lover, but also a prayer for salvation. The plaintive way in which Mr. Brown delivers the song draws your attention to the dark events of the Cuban Missle Crisis,which was taking place just outside the doors of the Apollo, engulfing the entire world. The fact that New York City was a target, and could even have been hit during the show, lends a high drama to the performance.

And finally there is the cover art. It is pure Harlem Impressionist at it's best. This album, with it's R and B songs, as well as early Funk and Soul, would lay the groundwork for the sounds of the 1970's and 1980's , with Parliment and the Funkadelics, not to mention the ground breaking sounds of Bootsie Collins. And let's not forget Michael Jackson's "Moon Walk", which was nothing more than James Brown doing his famous shuffle.

No matter how you view this album, or how you hear it, there can be no denying that this was a seminal album, sown from the roots of Gospel Music and Rhythm and Blues. The sound that was created became known as Soul Music, which eventually gave way to Funk and Hip Hop, and today's Rap Music. The future of those genres was born the day James Brown took hold of a microphone for the first time. The same applies to Chuck Berry, Ike Turner and Little Richard in relation to Rock and Roll. Everything that followed in that genre came from those artists.

This album is not for everyone, but it is an important one in the sense that it was a stepping stone to a new sound. I highly recommend it. If you have never heard this live recording before, you need to give it a try. It's some of the most visceral, and real, music which you will ever hear.

"The Savage City" by T.J. English

When I was about 11 years old, my family took a trip down South from New York City. We went as far as North Carolina, which is where I live today. At the time, while passing through Lumberton, I had my first upclose look at the last vestiges of the Jim Crow era, which had just come to an end with the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1964. But that didn't stop the sweet, and pretty, young cashier at the Howard Johnson's from calling the little black kid, who worked there, "nigger." I was so glad to have come from the North, where this type of thing did not occur. Or, at least that's what I thought.

I grew up in New York City, in the borough of Brooklyn, at a time when the whole country was undergoing a radical shift in race relations. The TV was filled with images of police dogs being loosed upon non violent protesters; women and children included. I was proud of the fact that we were so different in our handling of race issues in the North.

Of course, as I got older, I realized that the only difference between the North and the South was the way in which we were racist. In the South, it was overt. In the North, it was covert, and swept under the rug, where no one could see it.

"The Savage City" is a good, hard look at what was under that rug. And it's not a very pretty sight. Institutionalized racism was as rampant in the North as it was in the South. The author, T.J. English, has given us an insightful, and revealing look at the way things were done in New York City during the 1950's through the 1970's. And along the way he provides the historical background necessary to understand both the differences, and the similarities, of both systems.

Using 3 individuals as examples, the author expertly weaves their lives, and their troubles, into a tapestry of officially sanctioned racism, as insipid and evil as that of the South. Beginning with the social history of the great movement of blacks, and Puerto Ricans, to the North, looking for jobs during the Second World War, he traces the seeds of a different kind of racism, one that would eventually boil over in the hot summer months of the mid-sixties, leaving our cities burnt and scarred for decades to come.

The book kicks off with the attempted murder of Martin Luther King in Blumstein's, a Harlem Department store where he had gone to promote his book "Stride Toward Freedom." A black woman plunged a letter opener into his chest, just missing his aorta. She had been stalking him for several years, believing that his work in the Civil Rights Movement was Communist influenced. This incident exposed the divisions between the various African-American factions of the time in regards to the expolsive issue of Civil Rights. Some thought we were moving too fast, while others believed that we were not moving fast enough.

Three individuals are explored in this book. First, and foremost, is the real victim, George Whitmore, Jr., a young black man from Wildwood, New Jersey. He decides to leave the junkyard where he grew up for the opportunities that he believes await him in Brooklyn. His decision will change his life forever when he is falsely accused, and then imprisoned for the notorious "Career Girls" murder in Manhattan, a crime which took place while he was still living in New Jersey! Tried and convicted, he wins an appeal, only to be retried 2 more times for the same crime. Remember, this is happening in New York, not Alabama! He is also charged with 2 other crimes which he did not commit, just to be sure they "get him." Along the way, evidence is lost, destroyed and tampered with, all in the name of convicting Mr. Whitmore rather than admit to a mistake on the part of the police.

The second story here is that of Police Detective Bill Phillips, one of the most notorious of the "crooked" cops who so brazenly extorted, and shook down, everyone in his path. His criminal activities eventually landed him back in uniform, pounding a beat, where his corrupt methods of law and order served as one of the openings for the Knapp Commision hearings in the late 1960's. His story is one of avarice, greed and violence. The racism he adhered to was considered to be just a routine part of his job.

Dhoruba Bin Wahad was a kid from the Bronx, who was serving time for robbery when he became a Muslim. Released in time for the long hot summers of 1967 and 1968, he is trying to turn his life around during the social revolution sweeping the land in the form of Black Power, and the Black Panthers. In short order, the streets of New York would be awash in the blood of slain officers. Some were shot while on patrol, ambushed with phony calls for police, while others were injured in the rioting which scorched whole neighborhoods, leaving the urban landscape forever changed.

This is an unflinching look at the racial disparities, and attitudes, which combined to destroy our cities, and portions of African-American culture during the post-war years in New York. For a kid from Brooklyn, who grew up in the midst of all of this, the book is an eye opener to what was really happening all around me in the city where I grew up.

Well written, historically accurate, and compelling in it's scope, this book proves the old adage, that sometimes "you can't see the forest for the trees."

"Whatever Works" with Evan Rachel Wood, Larry David, and Ed Begley, Jr.

Genius writing, along with genius acting, make for a wonderful film experience in this 2009 Woody Allen comedy. This is one of his best films ever, stepping back behind the camera to write and direct, which is what he has always done best. And using Larry David in the role which Mr. Allen had originally intended for Zero Mostel, makes the movie all that much better.(The script was begun with Mostel in mind, but shelved after Mr. Mostel's death in 1977.)

The character of Boris Yellinkoff, played by Larry David, is the main vehicle for this story, and employing the old technique of having him talk directly to the audience, even as the "live" action of the film continues to roll, makes this a very comical, and unusual, film experience.

Boris begins his tale of Doom and Gloom, meeting daily with his friends for coffee, after having failed at a suicide attempt, and losing his wife to divorce. He has given up on everything. He is a bitter old man. That is, until he comes home one evening and finds Melodie St. Ann Celestine, played by Evan Rachel Wood, sitting in the alley by his stairwell.

Boris is kind of like many middle aged men, ranting at the changes in society, and bemoaning the lost years of his earlier life. He is cynical to a fault, and finds himself at odds with those who cannot see the truth, as defined by Boris. Basically, he believes in nothing. We know all of this because Boris never stops talking, even to the audience, as he narrates the story.

Here is a typical quote, "My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror, and corruption, and ignorance, and poverty, and genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism, and the family value morons, and the gun morons. "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness; "the horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle."

Prior to the arrival of Melodie in his life, Boris had been a Professor of Quantum Mechanics at Columbia University. He was an expert in the "string" theory. At one point he attempted suicide by jumping out the window of his apartment, only to land on the front lobby canopy, resulting in a permanent limp. He then divorces his wife, quits his job, gives up their beautiful apartment, and takes a back alley dive as his residence.

So, when Melodie Ann shows up, he is immediately skeptical of her motives, and her story. But, a human being is a human being, so Boris takes her in, setting off an intellectual dilemma as he begins to turn her world views into his own cynical interpretation of life. Will that cynicism take root? Or will young Melodie's air of confidence serve to help them both find their individual ways?

When Melodie's eccentric and strange mother, Marietta, played by Patricia Clarkson, shows up, things get even stranger. And Boris' friends can't believe the change in Boris.

But complications arise, as they always do, and Boris, formerly a difficult and misunderstood man, seems to change. I won't tell you what happens between him and Melodie. You need to watch the film to find out. But here are two lines, including the last one from the film, that I hope will inspire you to see this movie.

Boris Yellnikoff: Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all, nor does it even usually last. In the end the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to, whatever works.

Boris Yellnikoff: See, I'm the only one who sees the whole picture. That's what they mean by genius.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day to everyone, be yee Irish or not. This is a day of laughter and cheer, particularly back in New York City, which happens to be my home town.

I'm an Irish - Jew, or a Jewish - Mick, depending upon which side of the family you ask. Some say we're not Irish at all, but the Census Forms belie this. It doesn't matter, have a great day and try to keep your eye out for the Leprechaun - he just may lead you to that Pot of Gold at the end of the Rainbow.

But for now, here's the Irish Rovers doing their big hit - "The Unicorn Song."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EPsuOEH1fY

Coast Guard Cutter Cartigan Revisited

On January 20th, 2010 I posted a little piece about the old US Coast Guard Cutter Cartigan, which used to sit, when I was a kid back in the 1960's, in Sheepshead Bay, which is in Brooklyn where I grew up.

It was a beautiful ship to me, and, as I wrote in that post, no small influence in my going to sea several years later. I got 3 comments on the piece, on the blog, but have also continued to receive e-mails from people who have had a connection with the ship in one way or another. This comment was posted to the blog yesterday eveing and I thought I'd share the unusual story, as well as the link to the photos taken by Mr. Petersen, which show the ship being removed from the Bay. And Mr. Petersen is right, that old girl gave them one hell of a fight. Thanks for being there with your camera and sharing these photos with us.

Robert Petersen has left a new comment on your post "Coast Guard Cutter Cartigan WSC-132":

"Hi, A few years ago, I was employed by CUNY at Kingsborough Community College. I recall how one very foggy morning I heard the loud chugging and saw the large dark silhouette of some type of crane barge. Little did I know that this barge was charged with removing the Cartigan.

I was so grateful to have my camera that day because the most peculiar thing happened. The Cartigan put up one hell of a fight.

Hanging by the spread slings from this crane barge, the Cartigan was being taken against her will around the tip of the College to where the school's beach was located. I thought they were a little too close for comfort and wasn't too shocked when the next day a second crane barge showed up to help the get unstuck. Believe it or not, this barge got stuck as well.

Eventually, a third barge showed up and was finally able to free the other two barges. Yup, the Cartigan sure put up a fight."

If you would like to see the rest of these remarkable photos taken by Mr. Petersen, try this link;

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=1625214418&aid=95792

"Harlem" by Jonathan Gill

From the silver tipped wooden leg of Peter Stuyvesant, which was given to him as a reward by the East India Company for continuing to fight, even after his leg was shot off, to Jan Rodriquez, a Portuguese seaman who went to live with the Rockaway Indians, fathering the first mixed race child in America, this book will disavow all you think you know about the early Dutch in New Amsterdam. It will also give you a whole new perspective on Harlem, and it's journey on the way to becoming a bastion of African-American Culture in the early years of the 20th Century.

It is still too early in the year to proclaim this book as the must read for 2011, but this sweeping history of Harlem ,which rivals the scope of the 1999 release of Edwin Burrows' and Mike Wallace's "Gotham", will certainly be in the running.

From Henry Hudson's first step ashore at what is now 130th Street in Harlem (and you thought he went ashore at the Battery) to the Revolutionary War, when Harlem was a small village and considered the "country", through the War of 1812, the Civil War and right on through the 20th Century, each page will surprise you with the richness of the history you didn't know.

Some of the misconceptions that are righted in this fascinating book concern the Lower East Side. We all have this impression that the Marx Brothers, Rogers and Hart, and a host of other entertainment figures, came from the Lower East Side. Not true. The Marx Brothers, as well as Rogers and Hart, and Oscar Hammerstein all came from Harlem. Even the original Little Italy was located in Harlem.

The Manhattan Project, which had it's beginnings in a warehouse adjacent to Columbia University is also represented in this treasure trove of history. Carefully researched and well written, this book will entertain you on so many different levels, that I hardly know how to begin a coherent review. The history of the tenement, and how it came into being, is a rare look into the background of early urban real estate and the forces which drove it.

The Christmas Riot of 1901, which began when a group of white Irish youngsters attacked an old Negro drunk, who was then defended by a pasing white man, sparked the riots that re-drew the color line in Harlem. Prior to the riot, Harlem, like the rest of New York, was divided into ethnic neighorhoods. There were Irish, German, Spanish, Jewish and Italian areas, each with it's own set of rules and rituals. The Christmas Riot began the ethnic change, and also sparked a cultural revival of the local arts scene. This was the era of Langston Hughes and Du Bois; the so-called Harlem Renaissance. It is one of the most exciting portions of the book.

The narrative follows the history of Harlem from Henry Hudson through the present day and it's hopes for the future. Along the way you will be introduced to such luminaries as James Europe, the bandleader turned soldier in the First World War. He enlisted over 2,000 men from Harlem, forming them into the "Harlem Hellfighters", an all black group that included Bill "Bojangles" Robinson. This band of soldiers trained in the streets, with brooms in lieu of weapons. When they arrived in France they introduced the people to jazz before spending 191 days in the trenches, longer than any white battalion in the war, on either side. They were also the only regiment to continue to move forward during that time, never giving up one single foot of the ground that they fought so hard to gain. They even amassed an extraordinary 171 Croix de Guerre's and Legions of Merit.

Modernist painters, gangsters, politicians, criminals, prostitutes, actors and prize fighters are all represented in this fantastic compilation of what made Harlem the unique Mecca of African-American culture that it became, and continues to be.

"Me, the Mob, and the Music" by Tommy James

This book is about a garage band from Michigan, that scored a hit in Pittsburgh, went on to create a new genre of music, and gets ripped off for most of the money by Morris Levy, the infamous New York promoter who signed everyone but never paid a dime in royalties. There was an old joke in New York that went like this; "Why does Manhattan have 2 rivers? Because one isn't big enough to hold all the bodies Morris Levy puts there."

Mr. Levy was the head of Roulette Records, and several other music publishing companies, who preyed on naive song writers and artists like Frankie Lymon, and of course, Tommy James. The story of how Tommy James finally hired someone who was able to break the mystery of the missing $40 million in royalties is, by itself, worth the read.

But this book is more than just a kiss and tell tale of the dirty workings behind Rock and Roll music. It is also a look at the life of Thomas Gregory Jackson, later Tommy James, and his life in music. His first band was the proverbial garage band. Tommy was 12 years old at the time. Before he finished high school he would have a Number One record with "Hanky Panky", a song the group kind of "rewrote" after hearing another group called The Spinners do it one Sunday afternoon. They didn't even have a name for their band, let alone the lead singer at the time! Tommy James came about on a whim in the New York offices of Morris Levy. This is a photo of that moment.

The image of this kid playing concerts on the weekend and then going back to school Monday through Friday is almost amusing, but his determination to "make it" is admirable. Through 3 marriages and his problems with "uppers" and amphetimines, this book is as honest as it is brief. At a little over 200 pages, I hadn't expected so much depth from the guy who did "Mony, Mony", which was inspired by the flashing sign in Manhattan for Mutual of Omaha New York. I was also surprised that the author of such psychedelic classics as "Crimson and Clover", "Crystal Blue Persuasion", and "Sweet Cherry Wine" never did LSD or any of the other psychedelic drugs.

This is a very honest and revealing book which offers a look at what it's like to be an innocent caught up in the music scene. It is also the story of one man's struggle against the odds, bad promoters, dishonest agents and his own weaknesses. And in the end, it is the story of the man who emerges, fulfilled with what he has done and where he has landed.

The MDA Telethon - A Childhood Memory

I remember when the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon was a local, one station affair broadcast from the Americana Hotel in New York City. This year is being touted as the 45th Annual Telethon, but I can tell you that this is incorrect.

The telethon began in 1956, with Jerry Lewis and his partner, Dean Martin, hosting a show on WNEW-TV in New York. They raised $600,000 to benefit the newly found Muscular Dystrophy Association of America. Again in 1957 and 1959, Jerry did two more shows, which he began calling “telethons.” These were the days when TV actually went off the air at about 1 or 2 in the morning, so the telethon was a huge event. I remember getting up in the middle of the night to see if it was really still on! And upon waking in the morning it was the first thing I checked.

Another aspect of those early telethons, which I found fascinating, was that at night pledges came in from far away places such as Connecticut and even Philadelphia! The TV signal during the daylight hours was very short range, but at night I could pick up Channel 3 in Philadelphia. I suppose they had discovered the same thing about signals from New York.

When I was 10, and this would be in either 1964 or 1965, my parents, along with my brother and I, collected for MDA and then went to the Americana to join in the long line waiting to dump their donations in the big carts that were set up inside the hotel hallway on the ground floor. I believe it was just outside the doors to the space that was being used for the Telethon. The 1966 Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon was the first to be held on Labor Day weekend and the first to raise more than $1 million.

The Telethon has grown larger over the years. I believe the 1966 date for today's so-called 45th Telethon represents the date of the first broadcast from New York that was linked to other cities, like Philadelphia. Eventually the Telethon left WNEW in New York for WOR-TV and then finally moved to Las Vegas. But nothing will ever compare to the close knit feeling of those first few years when one little station in New York gave birth to this annual event.

"The Big Clock" with Charles laughton, Ray Milland and Maureen O'Sullivan

This is one of the later movies classified as "film noir." Released in 1948 it represents a wonderful vehicle for Charles Laughton as the micro-managing editor of a major newspaper. In the lobby of the news building is a system of clocks that tell the time all over the world. It is representative of the value of time, as perceived by the newspapers editor Mr. Janoth (played by Charles Laughton). His star reporter, George Stroud (played by Ray Milland) has, on account of Mr. Janoth's work ethic, not been on vacation for several years. He is always pursuing some story, or even the hint of one, at the suggestion of his boss, Mr. Janoth. This is beginning to wear thin at home with Mrs. Stroud, who has thrown down the gauntlet. The train leaves at 6:30 sharp. She is going to go on vacation, with him, or without.

When Mr. Janoth assigns Mr. Stroud a lead on a very important news story, one that could lead to his being promoted, Stroud is almost sucked back in, risking his happiness at home. At the last moment he decides to quit. On the way to the station, and his wife, he decides to have a drink to celebrate his "freedom." At the bar he meets a woman who happens to be the mistress (played by Rita Johnson) of his former boss and has a grudge against him. After a few drinks Stroud has forgotten all about the time and is uproariously drunk. After carousing about town and being seen everywhere, she takes Stroud, who is now too inebriated to navigate on his own, home with her to "sleep it off" on her sofa. There is no romantic involvement, just circumstances.

When Mr. Janoth's mistress finds that the editor is on his way up to her apartment, she rouses the hapless Stroud from his slumber just in time for him to leave. But he has left behind the one thing that can potentially identify him; a sundial with a green ribbon that the two took from a bar.

Mr. Janoth arrives and proceeds to have a fierce argument with his mistress. Words are said, and in a moment of rage Mr. Janoth uses the sundial to bludgeon his mistress to death. He then flees, leaving the murder weapon behind.

Aided by his most loyal minion, Steve Hagen,(played by George Macready) the race is on to find a fictious killer, and at the same time use the story as a vehicle to boost the paper's sales. In the meantime, our hapless reporter, Mr. Stroud, has re-united with his wife and child, and beginning his long overdue vacation. Then the phone rings.

Mr. Janoth, who is desperate to pin his crime on someone else, cajoles his star reporter into returning from vacation, to solve the mystery and boost the paper's sales. Although Stroud does not wish to leave his wife he realizes the necessity of micro-managing the investigation. The irony here is that he is now doing exactly what he despises about his boss, manipulating people for his own purposes.

With an outstanding appearance by Elsa Lanchester as a witness,(she also happened to be married to Mr. Laughton in real life and appeared in several films with him) she plays a struggling artist who has seen the alledged killer in an antique store on the night of the murder and in the company of Mr. Janoth's mistress.

As the clocks in the lobby tick the time away, the noose tightens, threatening to ensnare Stroud in a trap not of his own making. With a tightly written script and the wonderful Direction of John Farrow, this movie will keep the viewer riveted until the final conclusions are drawn.

A landmark film, set in the New York of the late 1940's, this film was remade as "No Way Out" in 1989 with Kevin Costner and Gene Hackman. They play a military officer (Costner) who is having an affair with a Senator's (Hackman) mistress. Both films are well made, but for my money I'll take Ray Milland and Charles Laughton in this exciting piece of film noir.

"Gonville" by Peter Birkenhead

What would it be like to be raised by a man who was alternately angry, passive, filled with joy and sometimes in deep despair? How would you feel if your father dressed in a pith helmet and spoke like Lt. Gonville, the character portrayed by Michael Caine in the historical drama "Zulu", a movie about the British in South Africa circa 1850?

Growing up in Brooklyn, and later, Long Island, in the 1960's and 70's,the author was faced with, and had to answer some of these questions. If not for everyone around him, then for his own sanity. Children don't always get to know the demons that haunt their parents. In this book, the author gives it his best shot. There are, indeed, comical moments in this honest and down to earth autobiography by Peter Birkenhead. But there is also a dark side to this tale.

Like many people do, Mr. Birkenhead dealt with these issues by not dealing with them. Throwing himself into a fantasy world was a great way to escape the turmoil at home. But escaping always bears a price to be paid at a later date. Eventually the author becomes an actor, playing many roles in which his character is angry at his father, just as he was with his own.

Haunted by a particularly vivid dream in which he is flying down a set of stairs begins a journey into the past. The dream turns out to be the night his father chased his wife and children from the apartment with a gun. The flight the author took down the stairs was in the arms of his mother.

A graphic look inside the mind of a child who was both amused, and confused, by the antics of his father, this book is honestly written. When we become adults the choices we make are largely our own. But a lot of what we chose to do with our lives stems directly from our experiences as children. Mr. Birkenhead has made this abundantly clear in this tightly written memoir.

Dubrow's - A Brooklyn Legend

Dubrow's was a cafeteria on Kings Highway and East 16th Street in Brookly, New York. It sat on the corner by the BMT elevated Subway line - an interesting combination in itself, an elevated subway. But that's Brooklyn for you. Along the BMT line were several stops going from Coney Island to Manhattan. And about every third Avenue was an express stop on the elevated portion of the subway. Kings Highway was one of those avenues and had lots of stores, just as the other express stops did. But it had one thing more. It had Dubrow's Cafeteria.

Dubrow's was a family owned chain of cafeterias, which were once in style all across America. You walked in, and got a ticket which got punched by a guy behind the counter when you got served. This was actually your check and you presented it to the cashier on the way out and paid for what you had eaten.

But really, Dubrow's was a place where people met and talked over coffee and pie in the late evenings, eggs and coffee in the wee hours returning from a concert, or occassionally, dinner. Their halibut was delicious, as was the creamed spinach.

Decorated in Art Deco style from the 1930's, it was the perfect place to hang out and kill time on a rainy night. As the establishment got older the patrons were treated to various activities that precluded food. Roach races were one of these pastimes. This consisted of sitting at your table, preferably next to a wall, and watching two roaches headed to the top of the wall. The stakes were small, usually coffee and pastry. Many a night I lost to Mike Held, who seemed to have a knack for picking the fastest roaches. I never figured out his secret...

It could also be the scene of danger and intrique. Drugs could be purchased on the opposite corner from some shady and wasted fellows. I was warned very early in the 1960's to avoid "hanging out" on this corner. At that time it ws a gathering spot for heroin dealing. This was about 1961. By the time the '60's had ended it was a place to meet your friends before heading to Manhattan for a concert, or just to hang out around the corner and smoke one.

It also served as a place where politicians met the public. Being by a major train stop was great for meeting a lot of voters at about 5 and 6 PM when they came off the train in droves! JFK spoke around the corner on East 16th Street in 1960, opposite the bakery that sat next door to the Waldbaums Supermarket. You can see the Bakery sign in the photograph. I saw RFK there in 1964 when he ran for Senator, Hubert H. Humphrey in 1968 when he ran for President, and John Lindsay both times he ran for Mayor.(He got booed one time for his handling of a strike.)

There was a famous holdup of the Cafeteraia in 1952, I wasn't there, but here is the newspaper article describing it;

$14,000 Taken In Hold-up

An apparently intoxicated man staggered up to the manager of crowded Dubrow's Cafeteria, 1521 King's Highway. Brooklyn at 12:45 o'clock this morning, took between $14,000 and $15,000, reeled out, and disappeared.

The victim was Max Tobin, 48 years old, manager and part owner of the restaurant, which is at East Sixteenth Street in the Sheepshead Bay section. He said 450 customers and 50 employes were unaware of the holdup in a balcony office.

Mr. Tobin said he noticed a man reeling along behind him as he went to a balcony but thought he was going to a washroom. However, Mr. Tobin said, as he unlocked the door to the office, the man bumped into him, knocked him inside, then produced a small black pistol and told the manager to sit down.

After taking the money from the safe the robber bound and gagged Mr. Tobin, said "So long" and left.

(New York Times, January 7, 1952)

The place was a Magical Mystery Tour for watching people. All kinds came and went at all hours. I know - I was there at all hours along with some of my friends. I think we used to go and watch the people who were often there to watch us!

There were several Dubrow's, all owned by the same family. There were two in Brooklyn, one in Manhattan and even another in Miami Beach for those retirees who got homesick. Even today, long after Dubrow's has disappeared (it was initially replaced by a Gap, but I'm not sure what's there now) people remember it with a fondness. Just google Dubrow's and open your senses to a time and place we will never see again. (They even have a blogspot) I'm glad to have been a part of the tapestry that was Dubrow's. Memories were made there.