A Day In My Life

I thought today I’d give you a little glimpse into a day of my life. Here are pictures and captions from what I did the entire day last Saturday.

11:07AM: Get out of bed, piss, get some green tea and go to the computer. I first turn on Woody Radio to listen to DJ Gidget and “Boris’” Secret Weapon show on Woody Radio.

11:10AM: Start checking out blogs, news and porn other things online. Here I’m leaving a comment on Shawn Chittle's photo on EV Grieve.

2:43PM: (Yes I was online surfing for over three hours, you got a problem with that?) Floss, brush teeth and take my pills. Vitamin E, Heart Savior, Milk Thistle, fish oil and a low-dose aspirin.

4:01PM: Shower time! (Gap in time due to a phone call from a friend.)

4:12PM: Glance at photo I bought from Goggla which hangs in my bathroom. You can get one of your own, right here!

4:45PM: Out and about!

4:51PM: Mailing John Travolta postcards to Wendy Vee. She was the only to email me and ask for a postcard, so I’m sending her two. Lots more left if anyone wants one!

4:55PM: Okay, this is something I’ve been obsessing over for years. The seven day week and staying open late banks. For years banks had it made. They opened at something like nine in the morning and then closed around four in the afternoon, Monday through Friday. If they were open on Saturdays, it was usually from nine to noon. Sundays? Forget about it, closed! For decades they had easy-ass hours and on one cared or complained, it’s just the way it was. People even joked about working “banker hours” if you left work early. Banks had it made until a place called (I believe, it’s been a while) Commerce Bank opened up and announced they would be open seven days a week. And they’d be open till around seven at night. What the fuck kind of thinking is that? Let’s take an easy schedule that no one is complaining about and fuck it all up. And then every other fucking bank had to toe the line and open up seven fucking days a week. I personally believe this was the start of the economic crisis. Bankers got pissed and decided to fuck us all up the ass. And that’s exactly what they’ve done. Thanks Commerce Bank...thanks for ruining America! You bumble-fucked pieces of shit on a shingle!

5:20PM: (Yes, I stood and obsessed over that bank sign for about fifteen minutes, I’m not even going to admit how many times I’ve done this.) Powerball tickets! This blog may not be posted if I win. (I lost. Fuck.)

5:31PM: Obligatory school bus mirror shot!

5:40PM: Okay, time to get some supplies for dinner. I feel like creating a sandwich, let’s see what I can find in here.

6:17PM: Back home and time to start cooking!

6:20PM: Here’s what I got: A cheese slicer, cheddar chipotle cheese, lettuce, an bakery fresh onion bun, a half pound of fresh Hebrew National bologna, Kettle potato chips and a Junior mini cheesecake for dessert. I thought I’d make a fried bologna and cheese sandwich, I haven’t had one of those in decades and now I’m dying to eat one. Time to get this show on the road!

6:26PM: But first things first, we need a little fuel to start cooking!

6:45PM: Okay, the bologna is frying up nicely...

6:50PM: And the onion bun’s are toasted with the cheese melted on top of them. Things are looking and smelling good! Time to put this all together.

6:56PM: Okay the toasted onion and cheese buns are topped with pepper and spicy mustard.

6:58PM: Now we add the fried bologna...

7:00PM: And here’s the meal with the chips on the side.

7:02PM: Delicious!

7:10PM: Well I wolfed that down quickly, now it’s time to do the dishes.

7:15PM: All clean on the Western Front...holy shitballs...are you seeing what I’m seeing...my sink is a freaking Cardboard Box Man Mutation...aaaahhh!

7:20PM: Okay, we’re safe out here, I may never go home again!

7:28PM: I was hoping that the town would empty out, seeing it’s a holiday weekend, but the sidewalks are packed here on St. Mark’s and they’re all slow walkers. Motherfucker, I need a beer or nine.

7:39PM: I was going to stop in at the Grassroots Tavern, but it was jam-packed. Time to keep moving.

7:43PM: Exactlyodo, Quasimodo, to quote John Prine.

7:51PM: Ah, the Coal Yard bar, one of my favorites! Let’s check it out!

7:53PM: Nice and dark and plenty of room at the bar, perfect!

7:59PM: And here’s Danielle, the friendly and pretty bartender, I’ve tried to get her photo in the past, but she politely declined. Finally she relented. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again, unless you’re served with a restraining order!

8:12PM: I love the bar and the lit up bottles behind it. It’s a perfect Al bar, dark, great jukebox and no TV’s (sorry, Gene!)

9:07PM: Toilet time!

9:10PM: Lita Ford fan alert!

10:34PM: Okay, several beers later, it’s time for a final glance out the neon-lit window and back out on the road.

10:37PM: And awaaay we go!

10:44PM: Check out the idiots lined up at Artichoke for a slice of pizza. It’s only pizza people, not worth waiting in line for an hour!

10:51PM: Here we are on 14th Street, getting ready to encounter a trifecta of shame and vulgarity, all on one block.

10:52PM: Subway...

10:53PM: Two doors down...7-Eleven...

10:54PM: And the icing on this trilogy of chain terror...IHOP. What the fuck does “IHOP” even mean? Well, I’m not going to stand here and try to figure it out, I’m starting to feel sick, let’s just move on.

11:02PM: A shot from Union Square Park. I’m close to home and I might as well go home. It’s kind of silly to be scared of your own sink, crazy how your imagination can get away from you!

11:16PM: Home sweet...aaaahhhhh!

Coal Yard Bar
102 First Avenue (Near 6th Street)
212-677-4595

Further Reading: Chickens In The Road, New York Magazine and EV Grieve.

I read the news today, oh boy.

Surprise link, click on it...I dare you!

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Bonus Illustration From Jaws!

Jaws the Cabbie sent in this illustration to go along with his comment. Ha ha ha! Thanks Jaws!

Colony Music and Tad's Steaks

Last week Jeremiah Moss passed along the sad news that legendary record and sheet music store, Colony Music is closing soon. It’s not that they want to close the store, it’s that there greedy, fucking landlord, Stonehenge Properites is quintupling their rent. You read that right, quintupling, as in five on rye. They currently pay one million a month, Stonehenge is upping that to five million a month and basically are throwing Colony Music out the door and will bring in some big box store, like that stupid fucking M&M’s store which is three floors devoted to M&M’s candy. Let’s take a trip there before it’s gone.

Darkness has fallen on the city as we make our way to Colony Music.

I thought I’d splurge tonight and take a cab to Times Square.

And here’s my view from the back of the cab. This guy is driving like a maniac, maybe this post will be about going to the hospital instead of a record store.
Well, it’s going to be about a record store after all, we made it and here we are deep in the heart of Times Square! See that big Applebee’s sign? That’s what Colony Music will be in a couple of months, some generic, piece of shit big-box restaurant or store. Why in the fuck would anyone come to New York and eat at an Applebee’s?
Here we are, Colony Music, you gotta love that neon sign!

Let’s go inside for one last bittersweet visit.

There’s a decent crowd in here tonight and I can hear people talking about the place closing.

Here’s the record bins filled with vinyl.

As you can see, it doesn’t look like they’re restocking the inventory.

Here’s some memorabilia and records from the Fab Four inside of a jewelry case. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

And for all you EV Grieve readers out there...is that Lady Gaga? (This phrase is a patent-pending N.O.T.O.R.I.O.U.S. L.I.B.E.R.A.T.I.O.N invention, use only with permission!)

The Chairman of the Board!

And here’s a Yardbirds album and I promise to write up the story of traveling to Memphis with Yardbird drummer Jim McCarty one of these years!

Colony Music is probably the last place in New York that sells cassette tapes!

But there’s much more than albums to look at in Colony Music, check out the vintage TV Guides with Mary Hartman and Chad Everett on the covers.

I love these Elvis pennants!

Who is this girl? Why...I believe it’s...Lady Gaga!

The Beatles on a copy of an old Sun newspaper. I don’t remember the Beatle blitz happening, anybody out there remember it?

Check out the Dick Clark tchotchkes and book.

Eydie Gorme looking nice on a 1957 copy of down beat. Where’s Steve?

I wonder if a “happy ending” comes with this John Travolta postcard book?

Colony Music has a large section of the store devoted to sheet music.

Sheet happens, but only for about three more weeks.

This is Robert who’s worked at Colony for years. He said that the NY Post exaggerated about the rent and the fact that there was one million vinyl albums in the store. He said the closing is partially due to high rent, but also due to the fact that more and more people are downloading music. He also said a big problem is a huge decline in sheet music sales, because people can print them off the internet for free. So the closing is a combination of an asshole landlord and the asshole internet.

And here’s Bethany behind the counter, we met her on our last visit to Colony.

After leaving Colony Music for probably the last time, I decided to get something to eat. But not here!

Tad’s Steaks is just a couple blocks away and another New York institution, let’s go get some cheap-ass steak! I know some people will say, “But Tad’s is a chain,” but I cut them slack because they’ve been here forever. And about once a year, I get a craving for a Tad’s steak, salad and baked potato. And tonight is that night!

The selections are plastered on the wall.

As soon as as I took this photo, a manager came up and told me I couldn’t take photos inside because of trademark infringement. I wasn’t sure what the fuck that meant, but I put my camera in my pocket as I was starvin’ like Marvin and didn’t want to get thrown out.

And here it is, a paper thin T-Bone steak, a baked potato covered in melted butter, garlic bread and a salad. A Tad’s feast!

Tad’s is a little like White Castle, you have the craving, you eat it and then you won’t have a craving for another year because you feel a little sick afterwards. Goodnight and goodbye Colony Music.

Further Reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, Dangerous Minds and New York Daily News.

A vinyl solution,
Ended my confusion,
I heard a voice in the noise pollution.

Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!

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Bonus Offer for TWM Readers!
I bought the John Travolta postcard book and there’s 20 postcards in there. If you’d like one, you don’t even have to leave a comment, just email me your address and I’ll send one off to you!

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Bonus cartoon sent in from Jaws!

Jaws the Cabbie sent in this cartoon after reading the sentence about the M&M store. Thanks, Jaws!

Chelsea Guitars and Old Homestead Steakhouse

Even though I can’t play guitar, I’ve always liked looking at them. I’ve always found guitars really sexy, maybe it’s because they’re shaped like a voluptuous woman, maybe it’s because I’m nuts. Anyway, I’ve always liked looking at them, so it’s only natural I enjoy looking around in guitar shops and there’s lots of guitar shops in New York City. I thought that every now and again we’d take a tour of one, here on TWM. One of the more famous gitbox shops in the city is Chelsea Guitars on 23rd Street, right next door to the Chelsea Hotel. It’s just about ten blocks from where I live, so I figured this would be the perfect place to start our debut of guitar shops in New York City.

Here we are on 23rd Street, not far to go now.

Fresh fruit alert!

We're real close now, here's the Chelsea Hotel.

Which is sadly still closed to the public.

And right next door is our destination, Chelsea Guitars. This place used to be a tailor shop and they left the "Alterations For Men and Women" sign stay above the door, which is a nice nod to the past.

The front window has some very cool guitars on display, including a Les Paul on the left.

As you can see, it's a narrow shop inside and it's jampacked with guitars.

The first thing you notice in here is the giant sea serpent crashing through the ceiling. I was told his name is Stanley, named after Stanley Bard, the former manager of the Chelsea Hotel.

Here's the owner of Chelsea Guitars, Dan Courtenay, strumming on one of the guitars from the walls of the shop.

As you can imagine, Dan has seen all kinds of famous guitarists come and go in Chelsea guitars. He told me a few people you wouldn't guess that has shopped in here include, Jonathan Demme, Arthur Miller and Allen Ginsberg. Dan cited Joan Baez as being one of the nicest customers to shop there and he said he was knocked out when Hubert Sumlin, Howlin' Wolf's former guitarist came into the shop to get a guitar when he was opening up for Los Lobos here in New York.

Acoustic guitars line one side of the shop.

And various electric guitars line the other side.

A shot of the shop from the back.

Here's Roy Orbison's Diners Club card, I think he'd be happy to have it hanging here amongst all these great guitars.

Three ukuleles hang with their larger stringed brothers in the shop.

Close up of some of the electric guitars hanging on the walls.

Check out this painting, it looks like Bob Dylan has gotten food poisoning.

Yikes!

Guitar cases are stored above the guitars on display in the store.

Pedals and fuzz tones are stored in the case at the back of the store.

Bass guitars can be had here as well, here's a Fender Jazz Bass guitar.

Carl Perkins autographed this guitar.

In addition to guitars, you can also purchase CDs in here.

It was getting close to dinner time, so I had an appetizer of a Sid Loves Nancy guitar pick. Another nod to the neighboring Chelsea Hotel.

And for the official Saturday night dinner, I decided to wander over to the Old Homestead Steakhouse.

Those of you that have followed my past blogs will recognize the bar in here and maybe we'll see a familiar face as well...

And here's the familiar face, friendly bartender, Robinson. You may remember him from the 365 blog or on one of our Saturday Night Cheeseburger adventures.

I started off with a lump crabmeat cocktail.

And here's the main course, a 10 ounce filet with a hash brown potato cake beneath it.

Delicious! It was a great meal and wonderful to see Robinson again. And big thanks to Dan and the friendly crew at Chelsea Guitars for letting me hang out and take pictures.

Chelsea Guitars
224 W. 23rd St. (Near Seventh Ave.)
212-675-4993
Hours: Monday - Saturday: 11AM to 7PM • Sunday: Noon to 6PM

Old Homestead Steakhouse
56 Ninth Ave. (Near 15th St.)
212-242-9040

Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, New York Magazine and Vintage & Rare.

Ah ooh, smokestack lightnin’,
Shinin’ just like gold.

Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!

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Chelsea Guitar T-Shirt Contest!
I bought this t-shirt at Chelsea Guitars, because I believe in supporting local businesses that let me come in and pester them by taking photos and putting their guitar picks on my tongue. And so I thought I’d give it to one of the TWM readers and commenters. So the first person who can answer this guitar related question wins the shirt. Warning: You will have to give me your address, which means I may show up at your house or apartment, drink all your beer, eat all your cheeseburgers and watch all of your internet porn, so you’ve been forewarned! Okay here’s the question: Name the guitarist for the band, The Wombles, who had a connection to The Sex Pistols and tell me what the connection was.

First one to answer in the comments wins the shirt! And I’ll throw in a Chelsea Guitars sticker and a couple of picks as well. What a generous motherfucker I am, huh?