Noo Yawk: A 70 Year Old Brooklyn Kid's Commentary on His City Today

By Michael Boloker

Returning from Arizona, Boloker offers a series of unique observations about his native city. Penetrating, acute, humorous and critical perceptions of the New York life style. An entertaining taste of the people and places that make it a distinct and tasty metropolis. From knishes to crepes, it is a delicious read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 31, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450245722

Michael Boloker

Michael Boloker has returned to his native city after 15 years in the Arizona desert. He is the author of 6 books covering a diverse range of subjects. His last novel, FINDING DEAN MORIARTY, is a tribute to the "Beat Generation." He lives in Manhattan with his lovely wife, Judy.

Book preview

Also by Michael Boloker:

Getting to Phoenix

The Gym Rat

Bananaman

A Journey West

Camp Harmony

Finding Dean Moriarty

Noo Yawk

A 70 YEAR OLD BROOKLYN KID’S

COMMENTARY ON HIS CITY TODAY

MICHAEL BOLOKER

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Bloomington

NOO YAWK

A 70 year old Brooklyn kid’s commentary on his city today

Copyright © 2010 Michael Boloker

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4502-4571-5 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-4572-2 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 8/26/2010

Contents

1.

A 70 YEAR OLD BROOKLYN KID FINALLY LIVING IN THE CITY

2.

I STILL READ THE

SPORTS PAGES FIRST

3.

SUBWAYS AND BUSES: WHO NEEDS A CAR?

4.

BARKING IN BLOOMINGDALE’S

5.

GET A JEWISH DOCTOR

6.

32 SECONDS TO THE 27TH FLOOR

7.

NANNIES, FANNIES, BASKETS AND CELL PHONES

8.

NO BIG BOX STORES HERE…YET

9.

THE GREEN, GREEN

GRASS OF MANHATTAN

10.

IT’S A LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY

11.

A FOODIE’S PARADISE

12.

WAS THAT ------------I JUST SAW?

13.

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND. DESKS AND BLACKBOARDS, MUSEUMS AND CULTYA

14.

LET ME ENTERTAIN YOU

15.

THE STARS OF DAVID

16.

THE FOUR SEASONS

17.

A STRANGE STEW

18.

THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE

19.

NOO YAWK, NOO YAWK:

MELTING POT? SMORGASBORD?

DEDICATION

For the ones I love most: my wife, Judy; my son and daughter-in-law, Judd and Laure, and for the little peanut, my granddaughter, Solenn.

1.

A 70 YEAR OLD BROOKLYN KID FINALLY LIVING IN THE CITY

There is no north, south, east or west in New York City, Noo Yawk as we natives call it. It is also not Manhattan, but the city. There is uptown, downtown and crosstown. I was brought up in Brooklyn in the good times, the forties and fifties, when the great high schools, Madison, Erasmus Hall, Lincoln, Midwood, Lafayette, Tilden, Boys’ High, New Utrecht and Brooklyn Tech turned out the brightest students, the best athletes in the country and supplied Hollywood and Broadway the finest talents. Like others I went away to college at N.Y.U in the Bronx. As a grown man I settled in the suburbs of Long Island for most of my working life before retiring to Paradise Valley, Arizona, fifteen years ago. I love the desert but I’ve had enough of the long, hot summers and the locals, most of who come from mid America and the northwest. They’re good people, nice and polite, but they ain’t my people. My guys are Italians, Jews and Irishmen. These were the ethnic groups that made New York great. The Zonies do know enough to recognize my accent and know I come from New York the second I open my mouth. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now I’ve come back. I’ve finally bought an apartment and am living in my city, right in midtown, close to the theater, Central Park, the great stores and avenues of the Big Apple. I’ve bought a large one bedroom apartment, 1,025 square feet. To people in Phoenix this is a walk in closet. They wouldn’t understand that in city terms, this is a plantation, and on the 27th floor, no less, with a view of the 59th Street Bridge and Queens.

I’m back in my favorite place to be. I’m not the least bit interested in going to Times Square on New Year’s Eve. I don’t want to own a car and pay $300 a month for parking. I take the subway, buses and cabs. Believe me it’s a lot cheaper to not have the monthly car payments, insurance and maintenance worries. I don’t want to fight alternate side parking rules, which only New Yorkers would understand. I regard a visit from the President not as an honor but an inconvenience which causes log jams of traffic and gridlock. Tell the Pope to stay home and keep the U.N. meetings away. They’re a pain in the ass to us. I don’t pronounce Houston Street like the city in Texas. I can get the best slice of pizza in the world from any pizzeria, one on every block, all called the original Ray’s. In Arizona pizza places are a rarity and they serve you a slice with a knife and fork. Can you believe it? And most are called New York Pizza. In a pig’s eye. In the city, I can get an egg cream, cannoli, Nathan’s hot dog, real bagel and regular coffee on nearly any corner. I cross the street in the middle of the block when traffic ebbs. Who needs corners and crosswalks? I’ve got eyes and common sense don’t I?

Of course some things no longer exist. The current borough of Brooklyn is not my Brooklyn. There is no longer Jahn’s to get a kitchen sink. I can’t get Ebinger’s black out cake or Mrs. Stahl’s knishes. Willie’s frozen custard is gone. Kids don’t hang out in the school yard all day to play whatever sport is in season. Stoop ball, hit the penny, skelly, potsy and three box baseball are lost games. Lundy’s in Sheepshead Bay is gone, as is the Brooklyn Fox and Paramount, the Loews Kings and Kenmore, the Jewel, Kingsway and Beverly theaters. Horn and Hardart, Garfield’s and Dubrows have disappeared as have the old department stores on Fulton Street, Abraham and Strauss, Mays, Browning King. There is no Bohacks from which to buy food, no Good Humor truck. Kids don’t make scooters out of orange crates and skate wheels. You don’t see stick ball games where if you hit two sewers you were a star. There is no hide and seek and ring-a-leavio. Ben Maksik’s Town and Country club is gone. They’re all