First Visit To New York City, Part II

Note:  This is a continuation of yesterday's blog....

It helps to be 26 years old if you are going to awaken in a very dirty and dusty firetrap after a night of adventure.  Older folks couldn't take it.  But, Tom and I were young---I was 26 and he was about the same---so the dump in which we were staying for the weekend was a minor distraction.

I was up early and rarin' to go see the city.  But Tom, unfortunately, had consumed copious amounts of spiritous liquors the previous evening and was not able to get out of bed.  I kept hearing a low pitched "Oooooaaaahhhhhh" from under his pillow.  Long story short, we were not able to get out of the hotel until noon. 

By that time, we were both very hungry.  So, the first thing we had to do was find a place to eat.  I could have eaten anywhere, but Tom was single and he wanted to have a chance at meeting a member of the opposite sex.  We hailed a cab.  Tom asked the cab driver where there might be a restaurant where guys like us might fit in ( I didn't want a repeat of last night's fiasco where I was accused of being a cop because I was dressed too nicely for my surroundings).  The cabbie said he knew just the place.

He drove us to a restaurant called "Friday's".  I believe the eatery was at the corner of 1st Avenue and 63d in Manhattan.  The cabbie told Tom if he couldn't meet a nice lady in that restaurant, there was somethin' bad wrong with him.

We got there around 1:00.  We sat at the bar.  We ordered lunch.  Tom also ordered the first of what would become MANY beers.  Yes, I was discovering lots of things, and one of them was that Tom had a drinkin' problem.

I struck up a nice friendship with the barkeep.  He told me that Friday's was known as a "singles bar".  He said it was the first restaurant of it's kind.  He said that single men and women came there to meet.  He said that around 5:00 the place would be so packed with women that Tom should have no problem meeting and talking to whomever he chose.

Of course, this sounded incredible to me.  I had never heard of a "singles bar".  I wasn't sure I believed him.  The barkeep advised us to keep our seats at the bar because once we got up we would never be able to get our seats back.  So, we sat there, me nursing two beers for several hours, and Tom downing about 12 of 'em.  I recall we were watching a basketball game on the TV behind the bar---LSU was playing, and you may remember they had a total sensation of a guard named Pete Maravich.  I vividly remember this game, because Pete Maravich was a magician.  He scored fifty something points and had a gazillion assists and anyone watching that game was completely blown away by his performance.

Anyway, after the game, the place started to fill up, just like the bartender said it would.  The place was soon teeming with single, beautiful, friendly women.  Tom was talking with three at once.  A huge group of them was pressed around the bar. 

The barkeep came up to me and said, "Guys, my shift is ending now.  I've really enjoyed talking with you.  You know, I really like guys from the south.  When I was in the army, I was stationed in South Carolina.  So, I'll tell ya what---your tab is taken care of for today.  Anything you want, just tell my brother---he's relieving me, and it'll be free.  Dinner's on us!  Have a great evening!"

Wow!  People were so friendly!  One of the girls standing next to me told me that New Yorkers especially like people who are different.  And, Tom and I were different!  We looked different and we talked different.

Tom soon paired up with one of the ladies and disappeared.  I didn't see him again until Monday morning---he did manage to find his way back to the company headquarters in New Jersey.  I made my way back to the Van Rensselaer hotel that Saturday night, another day in New York completed.  My education was continuing.

Sunday morning, I was up and walking through the canyons of the city.  For hours I walked, taking in the atmosphere.  The streets were almost deserted.  I ate breakfast at a diner.  I gave a beggar 50 cents.  I caught a cab back to New Jersey.  I never forgot that weekend, the magic of the city, the friendliness of the people, the broad spectrum of sights, sounds and smells.

Although I have been back to New York many times over the years,  I still feel the unique power of its personality.  But, that one magic weekend in the fall of 1970 made a lifelong impression on a young man from the south.

UPDATES: 

---Near as I can determine, the Van Rensselaer hotel was purchased by the Cardozo Law School and refurbished as living space for its students.  I am not sure, but today it may also be a co-op.  Oddly, try as I did, I could find no photographs of the old building

---I believe the original Friday's has been closed, but there are many others now located near its original location in Manhattan

---Credence Clearwater Revival became one of my all-time favorite groups.  They disbanded in the early 1970s, but the great John Fogerty still performs.  Funny how our individual tastes in music continue to develop as we age

First Visit to New York City, Part I

It was the fall---October, I think--- of 1970.  I had been out of the army about a year and was working for Johnson and Johnson in Greenville, South Carolina as a sales rep.  The company's home office was in Raritan, New Jersey, and I was invited to go to the home office for some advanced training with other of their sales reps from across the country.

I was excited!  We would be in New Jersey for about a week, and would spend a weekend there.

At the company headquarters, I met about 15 other sales personnel.  We had classes and learned about our products in more detail.  On Friday afternoon, our training director gave us all $50 towards paying our expenses if we wanted to spend the weekend in New York City.  This was really special!

Now we all know that $50 doesn't go very far in New York.  But still, 41 years ago, a dollar went a helluva lot further than it does today.  So, those of us who wanted to go to the city knew we would have to spend some of our own money to visit for the weekend.  I didn't have much personal spending money in those early days, but I had never been to New York before, and just could not pass up the opportunity.

But---where would we stay?  There was a well-seasoned rep in our group who recommended a hotel.  He said it was cheap and located in Greenwich Village.  That sounded pretty good to me.  I had a friend named Tom who wanted to go with me.  So, at 5:00 on Friday afternoon, the company provided us a free cab ride to the city.

The hotel that was recommended to us was the Van Rensselaer, located at 15 East 11th St in the Village.  We arrived around 7:00 and checked in.  Let me tell you---this hotel was both a fleabag and a firetrap.  But, at $15 a night, it was all I could afford.  Besides, Tom and I reasoned that we would be out sightseeing anyway, and would only be in our room a few hours a day to sleep.

The dust on the floors and window sills and furniture was of biblical proportions.  On every hallway and door was stenciled in LARGE LETTERS---FIRE DANGER!  KEEP DOORS CLOSED!  I was more than a little concerned for my personal safety.  But, I was young and looking forward to seeing the storied Greenwich Village and New York City.  (NOTE:  in doing some research for this posting, I discovered that Frank Zappa, the famous American guitarist, had stayed at the Van Rensselaer Hotel for a while in 1967.  He wrote that it was as filthy a place as he had ever seen)

Tom and I threw our overnight bags into our room and headed outside to see the wonders of the Village.  There were many coffeehouses, with folk music emanating into the night.  I loved folk music! 

We ended up in a particular coffeehouse where the drinks were flowing and the music was sweet.  I met a number of really cool people.  There was a smell in the air that resembled burning rope.  I thought that strange.  It was unlike any cigarette smoke I had ever smelled before.

My friend, Tom, was on his way to a really bad hangover.  I helped him get back to the hotel, and then I headed back out.  By this time it was about 10:30 or so,  I stumbled onto a pretty neat looking club with rock music blaring.  There was a sign out front that said CREDENCE CLEARWATER TONIGHT.

I never listened to anything but country and folk music, so Credence Clearwater didn't mean much to me.  Still, the place seemed inviting, so I walked in.  I had to pay a $5 cover charge, which I thought was highway robbery.

Inside the club, there was a huge ballroom.  Thick smoke hung in the air, and strobe lights throbbed and pierced the heavy atmosphere.  The room was teeming with humanity.  As my eyes adjusted, I began to see that there were a whole lot of people curled up in little nooks---cubbyholes built into the walls.  They all appeared to be sleeping---sleeping amid the blare of heavy rock music and dense smoke and strobes.  This seemed odd.

And, then there was that same odor of burning rope that I had detected back in the coffeehouses.  My, they certainly smoke some strange tobacco in New York, I thought.

As I was standing in the middle of the huge ballroom, trying to make sense of all of this, I saw an attractive young woman approach me....her eyes locked onto me.  She looked friendly.  She walked up to me, her face not two inches from mine, and blew smoke directly into my face---a lot of smoke.  Startled, I blurted out, "Why did you do that?"

"We don't like cops in here", she snapped as she melted back into the mob scene.  Then, it finally hit me (I'm a very slow learner).  This was a drug den.  The people who were in little cubbyholes sleeping were drugged out.  The burning rope smell must be marijuana.  People thought I was a cop because I was dressed nicely. 

It was only a few years later that I discovered that Credence Clearwater Revival was the biggest southern rock group in the world in the years 1968---1972.  Man---what a first night in New York!

Tomorrow---Day II in New York City.