NYC - Greenwich Village

“Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.”

~Wayne W. Dyer ~

The day before yesterday, I was a music junkie; a high school kid infatuated with playing the drums and all things music related. Many a dollar from my Gannett newspaper route were disproportionately donated to the purchase of vinyl records during my youth. A love affair of the teenage heart to be sure.

At some point, I realized a trip to the Big Apple was in order. Bleecker Bob’s was a legendary record store located at 149 Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village (the Village). The locale was a chaotic mix of vinyl albums that filled the 2,000 sq ft space to the brim. The unique smell of vinyl records filled your every pore and the eclectic collection of vinyl was pure bliss for music fans far & wide. So much so, that regular visitors included; David Bowie, Elton John, Frank Zappa, Led Zeppelin and the Clash whenever they were in town. If you couldn’t find your desired 33rpm records at Bleecker Bob’s (new, used & bootleg editions), you weren’t going to find them anywhere.

NYC is the king of nostalgia… and everything changes.

Perpetual motion is the calling card of every major city and NYC is not immune. If anything, the “NY Minute” mantra accelerates transition. Some call it progress while others desire familiarity & continuity from one generation to the next. We all long for our childhood memories to be anchored to some time and place to preserve our memories and place in history.

As sure as sure as the Brooklyn Dodgers departed Ebbets Field and the New York Giants migrated to California, time waits for nobody. Places & faces come and go, restaurants change and some businesses just wear out. It’s a sad fact of life, but a blissful celebration at the same time.

This past weekend, I decided to venture back to the Village to reacquaint myself with the West Village neighborhoods in and around Bleeker, MacDougal and 9th & 10th Street(s). Dutch settlers grew tobacco and farmed this region for tobacco centuries ago (hard to believe) and the organic road system is still in place. Unlike the grid like pattern of mid-town Manhattan, you can meander in an aimless direction for hours in the Village and find it charming. Washington Square Park will be your beacon and is considered the heart of the West Village. A typical Sunday will provide a potpourri of artistic energy: NYU students relaxing, musicians busking for a living and a poet typing personal poetry on an old Smith Corona typewriter for donations.

As I wandered in my own aimless fashion, I quickly realized, there’s a plethora of new cafes, restaurants, buildings and even a pickle ball court on the corner of W. Houston & MacDougal to break the silence of a peaceful Sunday morning. The whiffle tennis sound of wood hitting a plastic ball is as recognizable as rain on a metal roof. It’s a sound of the times and will probably be around for years to come (says the man who has never played Pickle Ball).

I then drifted towards 9th and 10th street to view some of the most picturesque brownstones in all of Manhattan. Considered high-end real estate, I can’t even fathom the cost of one of these properties? What I did observe though, was elegance in all it’s glory: polished marble steps, vintage doors & knockers and small gardens dancing flawlessly in the morning light. It’s easy to see how ‘New Yawkers’ are embedded in these communities. The charm is addicting and readily abundant.

Gone are the days of the Gaslight Cafe, Bleeker Bob’s and the punk music factory known as CBGB’s. Many places are no longer with us. Some faded in the morning light while others simply ran its course. A time and a purpose for all and the inevitable change of life took hold. Change is inevitable, but often requires an open mind to get to the acceptance point.

Lastly, a trip to Strand New York City on Broadway & 12th Street was in order before departing the Village. Any private bookseller approaching their 100th anniversary is worth celebrating. God bless the Bass family.

Until next time…

Cheers.