Occupying a Private Space versus a Public One

New York City at Thanksgiving time is always wonderful.  One of my fondest childhood memories is spending the morning watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on television, at a time when it was the ONLY one televised, and it was an incredible honor to be a high school band chosen to march and play in the parade.  The parade (as well as the NYC-block sized flagship store in Herald Square) is one reason that New York City remains the greatest city on earth.  The parade remains a private-public partnership started in 1924 and going strong today.

The one advantage that the Occupy Wall Street movement as well as Mayor Michael Bloomberg has had in Zuccotti Park over all other Occupy ____ movements is that in New York City, the protestors have not been camped out in a public park like in Oakland or Chicago.  In Chicago, all public parks close at 11:30pm.  No one is allowed to be in the park after that time.  The City of Chicago police have every right to arrest anyone for trespassing after 11:30pm.  I can't find the hours for Oakland, CA, but again, the responsibility lies with a governmental body, like the police department, the parks district or the Mayor's Office.  In New York City, there has been for as long as I can recall (I have read now that it began in 1961, almost as long ago as I am old), an ordinance that permits private developers to build upward if they also provide (in some formula) open publicly accessible space outward along the street level so that the City would not evolve into narrow canyons of streets lined with skyscrapers.  So, is Zuccotti Park public or private?  It is in fact a privately owned space open to the public, like Books on First.  Freedom of speech only goes so far in a private place.  (After all, Walmart does not sell The Last Testament: a Memoir by God, nor should they have to do so).  The current owners Berkshire Office Properties (who changed the name in 2006 from Liberty Plaza Park to honor its chairman John Zuccotti -- another blog about names in the offing) had been very patient and in fact, canceled its first attempt to "clean" the park after one month's occupation when it was immediately accused of finding some pretext to remover the protesters and then, bar their way back in.  It knew then that the protesters had found sympathy among other New Yorkers and people around the world.   It did not make good business sense to be "the bad capitalists."  Now, the neighbors are getting a little irritated, so Berkshire has changed the rules and in the tradition of honoring private property, the place is clear.  I am not too surprised, though, that Mayor Bloomberg and the courts are still talking about public safety and sanitation versus capitalism; it's a more politically correct way to address the public.

Also, I wanted to share with you a story about another Occupation, one by veterans of World War I and how that too ended with bulldozers to the tents, under MacArthur's command, no less.  The moral of the story -- after awhile, even when people sympathize with the protestors, enough is enough, go home already.

We all have much for which to be thankful, thank God.

How (Possibly) Duane Reade Got Its Name

With today's announcement that Walgreen's has agreed to purchase the iconic NYC drug store Duane Reade, I get to walk down memory lane.

During the summer of 1979, I worked for the General Services Administration at Six World Trade Center (yes, part of the Twin Towers complex). Staying with my grandmother at her apartment on Hester Street in Chinatown/Little Italy, I would walk to work in the mornings as I figured that walking all the way down to WTC is almost the same as walking to Canal Street to catch a train and then, walking from Court Street or another station near the WTC, with the added benefit of saving money, getting exercise and living the City.

There are many, many Duane Reade drug store branch locations in NYC. The one I frequented that summer was right on my way to and from my summer job. One day, I looked up and noticed that I was crossing Duane Street. I then passed a very large Duane Reade store which took up the whole block* and thought, how cool, there's a Duane Reade at the corner of Duane Street. And, then, I had to cross another street and its name was Reade Street. Eureka!

Looking at a map of Lower Manhattan in my research for this posting, I see that Duane and Reade Streets are not perfectly parallel, but run very close to each other for several blocks in a northeasterly way. I would say the two streets are only a block apart, but this would be a Lower Manhattan "block," versus the insistent Illinoisan who tells me that *there are 8 blocks to a mile and thus, a true block =1/8 of a mile and this is a universal measure. Being a New Yorker, I knew right away from the first time he expounded on it, that this measure is not universal. On the other hand, I will concede that for the length at which Duane and Reade Streets run nearly parallel, they are not full blocks apart, which means that it is imaginable that there are more than one Duane Reade drug store locations between Chinatown and the world Trade Center. Of course, since I am talking about 1979, it is also likely that as we write & read in 2010, there are none between Duane and Reade Streets.

Remembering Les Paul and Frances Fanelli Dunphy

Larry just told me about the death of Les Paul, whom we saw in 2002 at the Iridium in New York (two years before this picture was taken per AP), while in town for the BookExpo at Jacob Javits Convention Center.
That was a serendipitous occasion. Larry was reading one of those visitors' bureau publications put into the hotel room for guests' information for "things to do" (yes, and we didn't even need to fire up a laptop), and he said, "Look, Les Paul is playing. I didn't even know he was still alive." So, we had to go. Already dark, of course, as it was after 9pm on a June night. Walked down Broadway, enjoying the hustle & bustle and lights of New York City at night. Nearly passed the unobtrusive entrance to the jazz club with a lone attendant at the door. Paid the cover charge. Walked into a room where all the light was focused on the stage on which Les Paul sat on a chair with his guitar in lap with two much younger musicians accompanying him. The audience sat at small tables in almost total darkness not more than a few feet away. And, except to respond to the show (ripple of laughter, round of applause), in attentive silence (I recall little of that chit-chat you usually hear in clubs during live music). It was a very intimate setting, and an enjoyable and moving time, being in the presence of a living legend.

Let me also take this moment to mention the memory of Frances Fanelli Dunphy who passed away one year ago Tuesday (11 Aug 2008). I like to think we had a tiny bit in common. We celebrated Mother's Day together, two women who had borne no children yet were (still am) quietly proud and loving grandmothers. She had a rich life, enjoying playing cards and participating in so many groups and extension classes. I loved hearing stories and talking with her about her childhood in Amboy, IL, her stint in the Coast Guard during WWII, her family including her brother who died in The War, her sisters, nieces and nephews, the Fanelli Candy Store where she worked after school (she especially liked assignment to the Dixon branch shop where there was a soda fountain),... And she made the best fruit pies -- especially crust which "makes" the pie. She used to make a special one to order for a family member's birthday. Since Larry's b-day is in February, he once asked for a raisin pie, instead of one made of frozen or canned fruits. I had never heard of a raisin pie until I met Larry and then, Frances. We all miss you, Frances.