Belated, but not forgotten: the passing of Joe Barbera. Considering how much Saturday morning cartoons I used to watch… Well, salute to the Barbera of Hanna-Barbera.
The soon-to-be-closing of Murder Ink, a NYC mystery bookstore; the NY Times prints the observations of the owner, Jay Pearsall:
A customer who worked at Carmine’s once said it seemed that bookselling must be a lot like tending bar, without the vomit. It’s true that we work hard and fast, serving up recommendations for customers, who sometimes tell us their problems (like the older woman who informed us that the elastic in her underwear had lost its stretch).
But the game couldn’t go on forever. Over the last few years, it didn’t seem to me that there was much that I could do to control the closing of the stores, except to keep adding more flaming torches to the juggling act and await the inevitable crash and burn. It’s become a sad, familiar song on Broadway, and far beyond, that a small, independent store can no longer keep up with the rent. That is why we are closing our doors for good on New Year’s Eve.
Every now and then I comb our apartment shelves for books that I can add to the inventory at the stores. Recently, when I grabbed a copy of “The Plot Against America” by Philip Roth, I noticed one of my scribbled notes sticking out of it: “Every night, just before I leave the store, I take a seat on one of the rolling library stools and reflect on what a great place this is and how I won’t have it much longer.” There’s also written on the slip, in quotation marks (from the Roth book?): “One can only do so much to control one’s life.”
The soon-to-be-closing of La Rosita, on 108th and Broadway – had passed by it many times. Man, what is happening in NYC? Things closing, but what’s opening?
I guess during the holidays, there’s much sadness and happiness, and thoughts abound.
And then there’s this: the Yule Log. Channel 11 aired a great documentary on how it came to be – a little Christmas card to New Yorkers everywhere.