As Senator Moynihan is laid to rest in Arlington Cemetery, New Yorkers devise a fitting tribute for their fallen statesman: Moynihan Station, to be completed on the site of the Post Office atop Penn Station by 2008. Update: Here’s some computer generated mock-ups of the future station, by way of Do You Feel Loved? (Thanks for the kind words, by the way.)
Tag: NYC
Make Baskets, Not War.
In happier news, the brackets have been set for the NCAA tourney beginning next week, which means I have some thinking to do. I caught the opening day of the Big East tournament last week at the Garden, but none of the eight teams I saw made the Big Dance. So, as per usual, when it comes to filling out the bracket, I’m basically flying blind, particularly as my attention has been more spent following the up and down fortunes of the Knickerbockers. In fact, in my first-ever Knicks home game at the Garden (I’d previously seen them a number of times in DC and Boston), I got to see Allan Houston go for 50. Might be too little, too late, but at least it made for a memorable evening.
Your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker…
It is very, very cold.
Agents Orange.
Speaking of Orwell (is it Eurasia or Eastasia today, Saddam or Osama?), the Dubya administration capitalizes on terror panic to drum up war fever (and good media coverage.) It’s amazing to me how worried many people here in town seemed about the recent orange alert (status update via Looka.) One friend told me that his out-of-town guests cancelled their flight into the city because of a possible attack, and a handful of other folks I know wouldn’t use the subway. I dunno…I just can’t get too stressed about something that’s so completely out of my hands. Besides, it’s probably true that living in New York City increases the chances that I’ll die as a result of terrorism, but it also vastly decreases the chances that I’ll die in a car wreck, which is still the leading cause of death in America for people under 33. So, it’s basically a wash. Not that I’m ambivalent about perishing in a gas attack or something worse, mind you, but I just don’t see the utility in freaking out every time the US intelligence community decides to cover its ass by issuing warnings based on non-specific “specific information.”
Pardon the Interruption.
Forget the war on smoking – here’s a Quality of Life initiative I can really get behind. New York City bans the use of cellphones during public performances, including movies. Sounds like a great idea, of course, but I have to agree with Hizzoner – it’s pretty much unenforceable.
Oh Joy.
Looks like the GOP will be descending on NYC next year for their 2004 convention. Expect opportunistic and wholly inappropriate uses of Ground Zero for the duration.
10, 9, 8, 7…
If you couldn’t make it to Times Square on New Year’s Eve (or, like me, you were just lazy), here’s the next best thing (Via High Industrial.)
Phew.
The transit strike is off. Now I’ll be able to see TTT tomorrow night at 23rd St. without running across the city Three Hunters-style.
Eleventh Hour Reprieve?
A judge issues an injunction against the Transport Worker’s Union’s planned transit strike, set to paralyze the city on Monday. As you can imagine, Manhattanites are watching this standoff, and Bloomberg’s handling of it, with bated breath.
Not-so-Safety Dance.
“Two years ago the only places it was illegal to dance were Manhattan and Afghanistan. And now you can dance in Afghanistan.” The Village Voice delves into Manhattan’s bizarre cabaret law, used since the Giuliani era to preserve “Quality of Life” and to stop New Yorkers from spontaneously getting their groove on. Speaking as somebody with happy feet (or, in the parlance of this article, an “incidental dancer,”) I find this particularly annoying, and can think of a lot of other bar habits I’d rather see made verboten.