Tag Archives: Upper West Side

More Funny Signs in New York

These are from my neighborhood, I’m ashamed to admit. If I’m going to make fun of Reykjavik, Helsinki and even the East Village, I guess I ought to throw my neighborhood, the Upper West Side, into the mix.

This sign, which hangs from the Lincoln Center, bugs me. I’m bothered by the event at the bottom, “Lincoln Center Out of Doors”. “Out of Doors”? Why not just say “Outdoors” like a normal person? Instead, they have to dress it up a bit, just to ensure the proletarians know they don’t belong.

Don’t worry, Lincoln Center, we’ve picked up your message. Unless we have loads of cash and crave linguistic differentiation, we should just keep walking. It’s not a problem. Really. Thanks for telling us you don’t want us.

 

This sign is for an ice cream shop in my neighborhood. But, it looks like it belongs in some other country, like Finland or South Korea. It’s a flashy, goofy sign, in which something inanimate is supposed to be a character of some kind. But, the character seems moronic.

I was surprised to see this in New York. It’s not the sort of sign that would resonate with New Yorkers. But, it is near Lincoln Center, so I guess it could appeal to those idiotic tourists who think they are coming to a different country when the cross the East River from JFK.

Anyway, I think this sign is stupid and just wanted to let you know.

Shithead and the Job-Hunter

This is from another wall on that same corner where the retailer is setting up shop. Apparently, it’s fertile ground for graffiti. Sexy, Hungry and the True Believer have two other friends: Shithead and the Job-Hunter.

I don’t know what Shithead’s story is, but the message is blunt. She is a shithead. It says so right on her, so it must be true. I saw it in person, and you’re reading it on the internet. What’s not to believe?

Job-Hunter’s situation is a bit more complex. It’s hard to see the writing on the picture in the blog posting, but you can get a closer look by clicking on the image. The young lady uses her forehead to tell us, “This is just a job.” How true …

But, for a different passer-by, this wasn’t good enough. So, he wrote, “Get one if you don’t like it.” I suppose that means, “Get a job if you don’t like starving yourself and giving everyone who walks by a complex.”

I do wonder if the models in any of these pictures ever cruise through the Upper West Side and see themselves defaced. If they do, they have my sympathy. After all, once you have worked hard for a living, it must be difficult to see your efforts defaced and in an extremely personal way.

However you cut it, though, it was thought-provoking. But, I always stop and read graffiti anyway.

A man can still enjoy Alice’s Teacup

When I go to Alice’s Teacup for breakfast with my wife, I have an excuse. She’s the reason I’m there. One of my friends described the place as “girlie,” and she’s probably right. I don’t care. I like it. With my wife out of town this weekend, I had to summon all the courage I have in my masculinity to go there alone; somehow, I was able to do it. I was rewarded for my efforts with small, tea-type sandwiches, warm scones, and a tea with the name “African Dew.” I liked it. Every bit of it.

What really blows me away about Alice’s Teacup is the waitstaff. The waitresses not only wear fairy wings while doing their jobs (and doing them well), they seem comfortable dressed that way. You get the sense that the young lady bringing you your roasted cumin carrot sandwich dreamed of wearing fairy wings to work as a little girl and is now living the dream. They seem happy, and I’m happy for that. I want to wear a cape to work and just can’t get away with it. Sure, their chosen (or required) attire seems a bit odd to me, but they are happy. That’s what matters.

Check this place out>>

This doesn’t happen often in my neighborhood

The Upper West Side is a pretty quiet place. I was waiting for my friend to arrive, just standing on the corner of W 70th St and Columbus Ave with my wife. Then, I heard the noise … it kept getting louder. There was a guy walking down the street with a radio on his shoulder, partying like it was 1989.

The picture is fuzzy because I only had my blackberry available, adn he was moving at a good clip. Hey, the music made him move. I get it. My second attempt at a shot, with my blackberry again, was even less successful. The first time, he was walking; I was not. The second time, we were both in motion, and I was following him.

The best part of this whole experience is that they guy was playing music appropriate to his style of expression. It was old school breakdancing music. I half-expected him to throw down some cardboard and bust out some moves. Hell, I felt the urge to do so myself. But, I had neither cardboard nor moves to bust out. So, I stuck to my usual gig, walking around the neighborhood.

This was a nice treat from the norm in my part of the city. That’s why I love sitting here. Hang out on the stoop long enough, and you’ll see one of everything … and everyone.

This is like Manhattan’s version of my favorite street entertainer in Helsinki.