"A New York Treasure" --Village Voice

Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Better.

Chris Jones has another terrific post up at Son of Bold Venture:

I agonize over blog posts. I’ve sweat over single words in 5,000-word stories. Tonight, I spent ten minutes with an editor trying to wrestle an eight-word clause into place. I’m still not sure it’s right.

Before my best stories—even when I’m nearly sure they will be good, or at least should be good, because the material is there—my overwhelming feeling is, You’d better not f*** this up, stupid. My feeling is that if I somehow blow it, if I somehow fail these astronauts or dead soldiers, then I need to quit the business, never to write again. Because only a failure could fail people like that. Only someone like me could betray them.

And yet I keep writing. I’ve written something every day this year.

Reminds me of something William Faulkner once wrote:

As regards any specific book, I’m trying primarily to tell a story, in the most effective way I can think of, the most moving, the most exhaustive. But I think even that is incidental to what I am trying to do, taking my output (the course of it) as a whole. I am telling the same story over and over, which is myself and the world…I’m trying to say it all in one sentence, between one Cap and one period. I’m still trying to put it all, if possible, on one pinhead. I don’t know how to do it. All I know to do is to keep trying in a new way. I’m inclined to think that my material, the South, is not very important to me. I just happen to know it, and don’t have time in one life to learn another one and write at the same time. Though the one I know is probably as good as another, life is a phenomenon but not a novelty, the same frantic steeplechase toward nothing everywhere and man stinks the same stink no matter where in time.

None of this is easy. It’s not supposed to be easy, even for the great ones. The pernt is to show up and keep working.

Ruh Roh

Curtis Granderson will not play today because of a strained oblique. No word yet on the seriousness of the injury.

Million Dollar Movie

There is a new book out from W.W. Norton, “The Times Square Story,” by Geoffrey O’Brien that looks like a keeper.

Over at Bombsite, O’Brien is interviewed by Banter favorite, Luc Sante, where the talk is about the old Times Square:

LS Times Square has been the madcap entertainment capital of the world since at least 1906. But there is a special potency to the postwar era. It seems like the one that will be engraved in collective memory; there’s an enormous subculture based on Times Square in the 1950s and ‘60s—books, videos, CDs, Psychotronic…

GO It’s the old seediness, the old sordidness, which has a completely different meaning now. Part of what changed in Times Square was the advent of hard-core pornographic movies at the end of the 1960s, which put the previous movies in a very different light. It’s as if everything up to that point had been a long, complicated tease and then finally the tease was over. The character of Times Square changed drastically in the ‘70s; by the early ‘80s it was a pretty scary place. It certainly was a different place to walk around in than it had been in the ‘60s. Having grown up in suburban Long Island, I had never seen anything like that. There was really a sense of, Oh, this is the culture I live in. This is what our culture is really thinking about underneath everything else: gigantic forms, enormous shapes, all the hot buttons being pushed, the beautiful unsubtlety of everything. At the same time, there were all kinds of strange subtleties to be discovered. I’m thinking about the movies I watched in the ‘60s, Italian horror movies, science fiction movies, all those spy movies that you and I both seem to have been marked by.

…LS Now, in a way, Times Square is everywhere.

GO Times Square was a kind of zoo of images which are available everywhere now. There is almost no more need for Times Square in the same way there was no need for porno theaters after video came out. You rent movies now about mad doctors dismembering people or people being held in South American prison camps or whatever your particular fancy is. So Times Square is everywhere in this sort of disembodied form, but without the smoke, without the hot dogs, without the peripheral population of people which made it human and which made it seem like part of the world. Now it seems like some weird hyperspace culture of self-replicating images.

LS That is the shape of the future. All of culture is disembodied. You and your 75 friends on the Internet who are interested in H0-scale railroads have never actually met. In city after city, whatever was the equivalent of Times Square is gone, though you can see its vague outline. I was in Seattle last month and realized my hotel was on what used to be that strip. You could tell because across the street there was still one pawn shop and one gun shop. All the movie theaters were gone.

GO I had a similar experience in San Jose, which has otherwise been dismantled and rebuilt as a theme park called Downtown San Jose. I went wandering and found a strip with some funky little stores that were selling bizarre memorabilia and old knickknacks. That general air of rotting paper is always a clue you’re getting near. The only beautiful building I saw in San Jose was a battered old movie theater, which I was told was the subject of a massive political struggle between the people who wanted to preserve it and the developers who wanted to tear it down. It had become the battleground for the preservation of some kind of ancient, sleazy, downtown culture.

The book is about the 1960s but I remember the Times Square of the early ’80s.

My old man lived in Weehawken for a year in 1981-82 and we often walked across 42nd street from the Port Authority on 8th Avenue to Grand Central on the East Side, where he’d put us back on a train to Westchester. I always felt safe with my dad but I remember feeling danger and unease every step of the way. I’ll never forget the signs for Kung Fu movies and the Porno theaters–what was the difference between X and XXX, anyway?–the hookers with bruises on their legs and the men looking at you with screwed up faces.

“The Times Square Story” is out now. Check for it.

What Was That About Oliver Perez?

Right on cue…

It only makes sense for the Yankees to discuss Perez – they need pitching, and are probably discussing just about everyone who’s available – but I also sincerely doubt it’ll go any farther than casual discussion, given how miserable his last few years have been, and that his velocity is way down on top of everything else (and he never was a control guy). Of course even if they did it would be a relatively low-risk major-league minimum signing… but… [shudder]. Presumably Cashman’s lack of enthusiasm is on account of his functional human brain. But I’m confident this won’t come close to happening, so let’s all shake off that mental image and try to feel warm again.

I was at Shea for the Village Voice during the 2006 playoffs and I remember being so impressed by how well Perez and John Maine handled being abruptly thrust into the high pressure spotlight of the playoff rotation. Perez started two games in the NLCS, and ended up giving up 6 runs over 11 2-3 innings with seven Ks and one walk – not spectacular, but solid under the circumstances. For a little while there it really seemed like Omar Minaya had stolen him from Pittsburgh. Anyway, I have no strong sense of Perez’s personality; he’s been villified unfairly because of the contract and his poor performance,  but that’s baseball, and then maybe a bit fairly for his refusal to help the Mets by agreeing to a minor league assignment last season. But regardless it must be very hard for men like him and Maine to have so much potential fail to develop, whether because of health or simply the ever-shifting difficulty of the game. And yes, I bet $12 million a year takes the edge off, but there’s no way it’s not still painful.

Having now expressed the requisite empathy, I’ll just reiterate that this man should not be allowed within 200 feet of the Yankees.

Mongo Like Candy

Big Bad Bartolo Colon is making a strong bid to jern the Yankees starting five.

I Love a Rainy Night

Yanks and Knicks on TV tonight…

[Picture by Bags]

Million Dollar Movie

This is next on my list of movies to see. From the director of “The Station Agent.”

Afternoon Art

Subway Art blog wins again.

The show is Single Fare 2.

Scapegoats Head Soup

Brace yourselves.


Today the Mets finally released Oliver Perez, and there was much rejoicing.  Perez, who was heading into his third year of a horrid contract, and two and a half years as a punchline about the recent Mets administrations’ ineptitude, joins fellow scapegoat Luis Castillo, who was released Friday and promptly picked up by the Phillies (whose fantastic pitching staff will have to hope the grounders they induce avoid second base). Both Castillo and Perez were the targets of intense fan dislike, which was thoroughly earned from a baseball perspective though not from a personal one. Castillo was often accused of being sulky or half-assed when, in fact, he simply had no working knees. Neither he nor Perez can be blamed for taking the ludicrous contracts Omar Minaya offered them, but you also can’t blame Mets fans for their palpable relief at no longer having to watch those two.

Anyway, certain players on certain teams are destined to be the butt of jokes, the target of fans’ unhappiness. I bring this up because the Yankees are primed to have a few of those this year. Though there is obviously a major difference in that none of these new players have especially large or unreasonable contracts –and so shouldn’t garner the level of contempt that Perez of Castillo did — don’t wait too long to get your Colon jokes ready. When you have three real major league starters and are just hoping to get by in the last two rotations spots, you’re going to have some clunkers. Clunkers are an enjoyable part of the game too, though, if you can bring the right expectations and attitude to it. I know as someone writing about the games, I am grateful to Tony Womack and Sir Sidney Ponson for the material.

This has been coming since that fateful week Cliff Lee decided to head to Phillie and Andy Pettitte decided to saty in Texas. The Yankees haven’t named their 4 or 5 starters yet, less than two weeks before the season starts, but if I had to guess I’d say we’re looking at Ivan Nova and Bartolo Colon, who seem to have  the edge over Sergio Mitre and Freddy Garcia. And there’s no way those two will stay in those spots all season, so there’s more to come. Once in a while you get an Aaron Small or Gustavo Chacin – sometimes you even get both at once! – but mostly you don’t. And that’s okay. Even the Yankees have to make due with baseball’s scrap heap sometimes.

I’m reminded of a tale from some baseball book or other that I was reading, years ago, about minor league life. A coach was described who would always console struggling players with comforting words along the lines of, “Relax, kid, don’t blame yourself – blame the dopey scout who signed you”. Yes, it’s important not to make things unduly personal. The Yanks are going to deal with some clunkers this year, no way arund it. But if we approach this in the right spirit I think we can have some fun.

So, what do you think – who will we be making agonized jokes about come June?

Taster's Cherce

I wouldn’t immediately think of carrots as my favorite vegetable but I eat them more than any other vegetable by far, almost every day. Over at Food 52, check out these carrot recipes, include this really tasty one, grilled tarragon carrots.

Beat of the Day

Matt B, hooking it up:

Please Listen to My Demo

The 30 greatest rap demos? Chairman Mao drops science over at Complex.com.

Oh, hell yeah.

Dig Deeper

Yo, baseball history nyerds, do yourself a solid and check out Emily Condon’s most cool site of baseball arcana, Fanned.

Signs of Life

Alex Rodriguez sure is having a productive spring, huh? But he’s not alone–Curtis Granderson and Mark Teixeira are swinging the bat well, too.

Man, the season is so close you can almost taste it. It’s raining again in New York today but it’s nice to know that the Yanks are geared up and ready to roll (knock on everything).

Tournament Sunday

March Madness continues…

Soul Survivor

Harvey Araton has a long profile on Brian Cashman today in the Times.

[Photo Credit: Catholic University]

Sunday Soul

But I'm Intercontinental When I Eat French Toast

Leading off for the Yanks…Derek Jeter or Brett Gardner?

Wet Head, Towel Off

After a long, hard week, time for a tub…

Felt like spring for real out there today.

Tonight gives tourney time, baby…

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"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver