• Middle Ages
    May 15, 2018
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    I unintentionally never listened to Liz Phair, and I seriously don’t think I would know a song of hers if one came on wherever I might be. I want to say I was too old but I don’t think that’s really the case. Her music does seem to resonate with those on the millennial/gen x cusp, though (which I am not). 

    I was curious about her recent profile by Emily Gould. I was actually more curious how sexist and ageist the reviews were for Phair’s self-titled 2003 album viewed through a 2018 lens. At the time I was staff at the Parson’s library and one of the work study students couldn’t believe Liz Phair was 36 and seemed more disdainful of the sexy album cover once she knew that fact. I even thought 36 was kind of old, even though I was just 5 years younger, which is embarrassing now.

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  • Screen Time

    Cactus Flower

    May 7, 2018

    I caught the end of “Cactus Flower,” a late ‘60s movie that had eluded me to date when I was staying in a semi-suburban Airbnb. I happened to flip by during a party scene at what looked to be a T.G.I. Friday’s (the original swinging UES location) facsimile. It turned out to be called The Slipped Disc.

    It caught my attention because there appeared to be a wide age range in attendance, from Goldie Hawn to Ingrid Bergman, who I was shocked to discover was 54. (Apparently, the role had been written for Lauren Bacall who was in her 40s at the time.)

    I guess Goldie Hawn was Walter Matthau’s fiancee and he had lied to her and led her to believe Ingrid Bergman was his wife that he was leaving. She was not, and Ingrid Bergman caused a scandal when she started dancing with a young man and left with him. In fact, Walter Matthau scolded her, despite being engaged to  someone 25  years younger. “It’s disgusting,” he said.

    I would interpret her retort: “I’m going to make up for the time I lost, and I’m going to keep on doing it” as empowered but it turns out they were in love with each other the whole time and I don’t really approve of all that subterfuge.

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  • Barred

    Interboro Spirits and Ales

    April 2, 2018

    When: Easter Sunday, 4:03pm

    I walked the longer walk than anticipated from McCarren Park, down Metropolitan Ave., to Interboro, this brewery/distillery past the Grand St. stop along one of the last remaining gritty strips in Williamsburg. Fittingly, for my last few weeks in NYC, I saw the bank near Graham Ave. that was the source of the closest/only ATM when I first moved here (That doesn’t seem right–wouldn’t there be some in bodegas?) and the razed spot where the White Castle stood. Once when I was 26 after a debauched night with some very young British boys (young enough that they were shocked when I said my age) I met in the Charleston, which I can’t believe is still the Charleston, I walked on Metropolitan all the way home to Ridgewood at 5am (roughly 3.6 miles–I just checked). At 45, I only have minutely better judgment but in 2018 I would definitely spring for a Lyft.

    I was meeting Karen, whom I hadn’t seen since I interviewed her, and has lived nearby for 20 years like a good old-school Williamsburger, hanging on, waiting for a payoff. I currently know three other women in this position. I’m impatient. I would just move, but I’ve never had a rent stabilized apartment. 

    Interboro is mildly confusing because they produce beers, nearly all IPAs, and spirits of all sorts. Most of the clientele were drinking beer, four 4oz tastings for $10, a bargain. 

    The bartenders switched from The Cars at one point to Operation Ivy. “I haven’t heard this in a long time,” the long-haired one one said to the short-haired.  I hadn’t either, and it made me wonder when they became acquainted with this album since I listened to “Energy” in high school and these guys couldn’t have been older than kindergartners in 1989. Then again, I was only six when “Just What I Needed” came out and I’m perfectly familiar with the song. (Operation Ivy weren’t top 40 though…)

    Age appropriate? Despite a mostly millennial clientele, I would say yes. There is an added layer to drinking at the same location where the beverages are produced that is nerdy in a way that could attract all ages. I did see a handsome white-haired man who could’ve been mid-40s or mid-50s with a woman of similar age and hair color. He looked like a British character actor who I couldn’t place until this morning. I forgot how in NYC when you see someone who might be someone, it’s not unreasonable that they are that person. This man was not Mark Bonnar, as it turned out, but I’m only mentioning this because I impressed myself that I even turned up this actor’s name with little to go on. 

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