April Starts Off With a Bang

I am going too spend tomorrow morning paying my respects to William F. Buckley at St. Pat's. Never agreed with his politics, but always admired his love of language, both ancient and modern. Since Costello's is long gone, maybe I will find another local watering hole for lunch and a cocktail or three, and try out a couple of the celestial navigation lines I learned from Buckley; they never fail. Thanks, Bill.

The rest of the weekend involves cleaning the yard. From the subliminal to the ridiculous.

Sunday, I am doing the MORE Half-Marathon in Central Park, along with some women from my running group. The race, open to women only, benefits women's charities. We are supposed to have stellar weather, which is always a plus.

Saturday, we are making our first foray into our yard this spring: weeding, planting some grass, bulbs and seeds, raking, hoeing, digging, you name it!

these are all great activities--and lori loebelsohn's art is always so lovely.
as for me, i'll be at the Garden Club of Montclair Garden Education Fair at the united way building tomorrow and friday. there's going to be a post with more details in a little while, and i hope anyone who enjoys gardening, beekeeping, butterflies, birds, pruning roses or raising scented lilacs will stop by. it's all free, even the cool doorprizes! everyone welcome.

Good God MM!

Gardening on Saturday. Half-marathon on Sunday.

I'm in awe!

Conan, do you refer to the legendary Costello's, late of 44th Street -- haunt of Daily News and transplanted Fleet Street imbibers?

Collapsing on Monday! LOL!

When Costello's announced its closing (I often used to see Selby Kelly, widow of cartoonist Walt, there, she was very nice and had been his nurse for years beore they wed), I pondered for quite some time how to save some of the "decorated" wall space. Never did figure it out.

I was always able to tell who almost all the cartoon characters on the walls were, however. But then, I also remember the Daily Mirror, and the Herald Tribune, the World Telegram & Sun, the Journal-American and, finally, the World-Journal-Tribune. Ink-stained wretches from all of them, I was told more than once by assorted rummy regulars, drank at Costello's back when. What a place it was even in its last days. Neither the Star-Ledger nor the Record has any such refuge for its people in these overly corporate times, I even doubt that staffers at both journals would gravitate to one if it in fact existed.

I'll be assembling a patio set on Saturday.

Riding my nice shiney new Trek 7.5 Bike later on Saturday.

De-thatching my lawn on Sunday.

Popping Aspirin on Monday.

Cathar: Your post tripped a memory in my ehad, of something I once read in an old issue of Weird NJ. It was about a now-defunct watering hole called the Tube Bar in Jersey City frequented by mostly commuters and Jersey Journal staffers druning the 60s and early 70s. The proprietor, Louis Deutsch (sp?), was a grumpy old man with a froggy voice who didn't like "dames" in his bar. He also didn't like people who nursed one drink. You either bought drinks in the plural or you were asked to get out.

I was not of drinking age at the time but I remember reading about the palce and hearing some stories firsthand.

druning=during

The Tube Bar was the place that prank calls were placed and recorded. They made history and a Simpsons episode or two.

HERE

LOL...thanks for the link, Spot. Some of those made up names are too funny!

I am still, Miss Martta, trying to get past your participation in a sounds-somewhat-discriminatory run Sunday. Isn't that a way of discouraging potential male donators to the charities which will benefit?

But then, I also recall when (MORE) was a journalism review. (Also when I too typed it on the bottom of manuscript pages.) A very good, funny one, too.

Not at all, Cathar. It just gives the women a chance to "bond" over a cause. MORE is the name a women's mag that's geared to women over 40. (Ouch.)

I best remember "More" as the surprisingly lush theme song from one of my favorite movie dirty pleasures, Miss Martta. "Mondo Cane!" Even to think of it and its two sequels still grosses me out.

The journalism review came afterward.

"Young" Tim Costello, son and nephew of the founders, managed to piss away a profitable and a historic business through a combination of mismanagement, bad partnerships (the business kind) and the daily display of his miserable personality. His dad could be miserable too, but he balanced it with wit and a good heart. Not so Tim Jr.
The walls were to be taken to some NYC museum but for the cost involved -- Tim of course would not pony up. I don't know what became of them but if they are lost it is another tragedy.
Yuo won't see the likes of that place again.

"Conan, do you refer to the legendary Costello's, late of 44th Street..."

Fookin-A, I do. A wild and ferocious bunch of talkers there were in there, too. I was trying to get a job with the World Journal Tribune Magazine, which morphed into "New York" magazine, but I didn't have the scholastic creds or the journalism experience. Cathar's memories of the joint in the 60's jibe with mine, but they were watering the frikkin' whiskey and ripping off the customers so bad toward the end, I never went back in the joint. Buckley never drank there. I think the National Review guys drank their Hemlock and Soda in one of the hotel bars on Fifth. Or maybe it was the Monkey Bar on 54th... :)