Most people would not know who Jane Jacobs is. She was one of the giants in the urban activism movement and for many years fought against rampant urbanism and against the shenanigans of politicos.

My first introduction to Jane Jacobs was as the author of the seminal book ” The Death and Life of Great American Cities”. This was part of required reading for the Urban Design Theory Class at Pratt Graduate School. Over the years I have had an opportunity to read a lot about her and also hear her once in the city.

New York City and in particular the West Village and Greenwich owe a lot of their existence to her.

Jane Jacobs, the writer and thinker who brought penetrating eyes and ingenious insight to the sidewalk ballet of her own Greenwich Village street and came up with a book that challenged and changed the way people view cities, [ link ]

Her book brought about a whole rethinking in the way politicians perceived cities. It brought about more citizen activism.

Opposing expressways, and supporting neighborhoods is a common theme in her life. In 1962, she was chairman of the Joint Committee to Stop the Lower Manhattan Expressway, when the downtown expressway plan was killed. She was again involved in stopping the Lower Manhattan Expressway, and was arrested during a demonstration on April 10, 1968. Jacobs opposed Robert Moses, who had already forced through the Cross-Bronx Expressway and other motorways against neighborhood opposition. A PBS documentary series on New York’s history devoted a full hour of its fourteen-hour length strictly to the battle between Moses and Jacobs. [ link ]

There are few people today with the conviction and clarity of thought that she expressed.

Rest In Peace Jane Jacobs. The city is poorer by your loss

So much for my previous rant on graffitti turning mainstream. To the right is a photo of the A train with modern-graffitti that cannot be erased. It’s acidic! It’s here to stay! I sort of hate it. It’s not pretty – just idiotically vulgar. But I have seen some that is artistic.

Photo ripped from Hiroko Masuike of The New York Times

Apparently today is Ben & Jerry’s 28th Annual Free Cone Day. Who knew? Come celebrate by enjoying a free cup or cone from 12 PM to 5 PM. (Check out their website for a location near you.)

There was some controversy recently around Ben & Jerry’s newest flavor, Black & Tan. The flavor is a combo of real cream non-alcoholic stout, chocolate ice cream, and a a foamy stout ice cream head. But, as you may well know, the “Black and Tans” were also the nickname given to some nasty British militia that operated a reign of terror during Ireland’s war of independence.

Some bloggers likened “Black & Tan” to naming a flavor after terrorists or the Gestapo. I can understand that, but wait, so how come the drink is okay?

Anyway, while B&J apologized for causing any offense, they don’t seem to be getting ready to pull the flavor anytime soon. So you can try it today and along with your old favorites (I’m partial to Chunky Monkey myself). Cuz not only is it free today, you can be a total pig and get back in line as many times as you want. Oink.

The rain was pouring down when we got out of the theatre. The Times Square crowds were intense. And we were shell-shocked after an afternoon of stimulating acting. So where to go? Where’s my “third place” in NYC?

Ok, this may be a serious cliche for a writer, but one of my favorite places in NYC is… the Algonquin Hotel. I know, it’s packed with tourists trying to soak up the long-lost glamour of the departed Vicious Circle and their Round Table, but it still has a certain charming ambiance (and I’m a tourist this weekend anyway!). The back bar that afternoon was tended by a man who could make serious cocktails and we needed a reprieve from the rain. So we navigated through the post-theater crowd to belly up to the bar, where I inbibed in champagne cocktails properly bittered, and my friend indulged in a custom margarita that had never seen sour mix. Nice. Nothing like soaking in some alcohol while your rain-soaked selves dry off in a candlelit bar, solving your life’s problems in a snap, warm and content.

After the sticker-shock of the bill, luckily muted by a happy buzz, we headed back out into the rain. At the foot of the front desk, an extraordinarily beautiful cat (the famous Matilda) was waiting imperiously for dinner, meowing like an archduchess at the passing bellmen.

(It’s DC Jenn again, with more on my visit…)

One of the reasons for my trip up to NYC this weekend was to see “Faith Healer,” the Brian Friel play now in previews at the Booth Theatre. With three acting powerhouses – Ralph Fiennes, Cherry Jones, and Ian McDiarmid – I hoped to be in for an afternoon of genius and I wasn’t disappointed. Directed by Jonathan Kent in a sparse production evoking the chilly atmosphere of northern Scotland and Wales, this acting trifecta lived up to their brilliant reputations and did justice to a play that tackles rough questions and brutal circumstances while somehow also managing to be downright funny.

Composed of four monologues that build on conflicting and collaborating versions of the characters’ lives leading up to a violent act, it tricks you by beginning with the least reliable character. The play then turns on a mounting fear as pieces of the puzzle jolt the audience as it slowly moves to its inevitable conclusion. The surprise of humour in the face of such bleak circumstances is a delight that is purely Irish but also again lulls you into a sense of complacency – nothing bad can happen, it will all work out in the end. Of course it doesn’t, and along the way such high topics as ambition, sacrifice, greed, artistic prostitution are teased out in a surprisingly non-preachy way.
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Hello New York, this is Jenn from Metroblogging DC . I’ve spent the weekend here visiting a friend and enjoying the lovely weather Saturday (Thanks to whoever returned my umbrella this morning!).

For me, travelling between DC and NYC is like travelling through my life – I grew up in Connecticut, just a thirty minute train ride to “the city” and I took advantage of that proximity, and the fact that my parents actually allowed me to come in when I wanted, even in the Koch era of “whatever you do, don’t go to the lower level of Grand Central!” I’ve now come to the point where I’ve lived the other half of my life in DC, which is such a strange thing. The two cities have a weird rivalry that’s mainly on DC’s side, with people transplanted to the capital city constantly griping about how much “better” the nightlife or dining or culture is in Manhattan.

Now, I love both cities and I think it’s nonsense to try and compare two places of such different backgrounds, age, and size as DC and NYC. But there’s one facet of difference that I find fascinating. I’ll call it “Island Living” – that peculiar habit of a lot of urban dwellers to stick within a five block radius their whole lives…
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So many computers. . .

As you know, yesterday was Earth Day. Although I try to do what I can – recycling, not buying an SUV (it’s easier than you think, especially if you have no money), and hm, that’s about it (guess I should try harder) – I wouldn’t call myself an environmentalist. But today when I came upon the sight that you see above in Union Square, I had to stop and ask.
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I woke up today at 7:20 am and turned on ABC Channel 7 to see what was going on the news. Before me was the most irregular and improbable sight; a woman was sprawled across the newsdesk with 2 women and 1 guy in the middle behind her. The woman to the left of the screen was applying some sort of shaving mechanism to her entire leg – I mean this girl’s butt was definitely showing to the people behind her…it reminded me of Wayne’s World when they show the suck-cut – “shut it off man, it’s sucking my will to live!” said Garth.

This morning I just stared in amazement to how unimportant morning television news really is.

Today, I almost fell inside of a city store’s basement…only I didn’t…because it was completely shut but loose…but I could have fallen easily and so I stood on top of it for a while, looked down, tried to take a photo but my memory card blows dog anus and gave me an error.

But falling down one of those store basement doors is one of my biggest fears while walking around Manhattan. It’s so easily possible but then I walked another block and realized that this run-on sentence is bound to run into a change in thought – it’s nearly impossible to fall down one of those doors when they’re open. The doors open up at 90 degree angles so the worst that could happen is you bump into the metal. You can really never fall…unless the metal flaps are closed and your weight is the catalyst equivalent to the final straw that breaks the proverbial camel’s back. Then you’re going to fall down, yelping at the top of your lungs, heart beating faster than the first time you scored 2nd base (some similar analogy for girls goes here). And then you’ll be the laughing stock of an entire city block and most likely 2-3 of the store’s employees.

I know it’s coming soon. I’m ready for all of the above. Bring it on you fucking doors. I’m not afraid anymore! I’m not afraid to fall! So there!!!!!!!!!!!!

After today I take everything back.

What? You thought me a man of conviction?