December 9, 2011

It’s been a little bit of a weird week for me. At the start of the week I got the sad news that my friend, Tony Ward, the owner of Mike’s Tavern which was the last stop on my bar crawl died. The next night I met friends at Bill’s Gay Nineties piano bar, a beloved midtown piano bar that is being threatened to be taken over by yuppie assholes who will surely gut the tavern and ruin it. A practice I refer to as: “Fedoradizing.” I invented that word after businessman Gabe Stulman bought the once wonderful, West Village bar/restaurant named after the lovely and beautiful owner, Fedora and then promptly bulldozed the place, took out everything that made Fedora’s charming and turned it into a shiny, shitty, plastic, yuppiefied, foodie facade of what it once was.

The  greedy money-men that are trying to get their filthy mitts on Bill’s will do the same, I’m sure. The first thing to be tossed on to the scrap heap will be the piano—the heart and soul of Bill’s and then all the vintage photos and posters and finally the bulldozer comes in and then...voilà...they’ll turn it into a place that has all the unique charm of a T.G.I. Fridays with a thyroid condition. Why would someone ruin something that’s already perfect? The answer to that question is the punchline to the following old joke: “Q. Why does a dog lick his own balls? A. Because he can.”

Anyway, the thoughts of Tony’s death and the possible impending doom of Bill’s led me to think about when Fedora died, and how Gabe Stulman did nothing that I know of in her memory on the day and weeks following her passing. No condolences or tributes were posted on their website and I called there the night when the news came out and asked if they were open and I was told they were. I questioned if they were doing anything in Fedora’s memory and was told that they had no immediate plans, but maybe they would do something down the road. I have a feeling that that road is mighty long and nothing’s happened on it yet. All week I’ve been wondering if there’s at least a picture of her or something honoring her and the fine institution that was once, “Fedora’s.” I thought tonight I’d go there and see. Prepare your barf bags, this ain’t going to be pretty.

And it's off we go, it's starting to get cold outside. Brrrr.

And it's down into the bowels of the subway we go.

Wow, look at this ancient device. It's a giant cell phone that doesn't move. Fascinating!

All aboard!

Here we are in the West Village, time to take that sad walk to Fedora's.

There’s the new sign that Gabe Stulman put up. When I talked with Fedora shortly before it closed she told me that the new owner promised her two things: They’d leave the original neon sign up and they’d close early during the week as Fedora did out of respect for the neighbors living on the block. Right before it reopened, Gabe Stulman took down the original sign and replaced it with a new one claiming the original was crumbling away and couldn’t be restored. It’s weird, it looked fine to me when I looked at it shortly before Gabe ripped it out. Hard to believe it couldn’t have been fixed. Oh and while Fedora closed around 11:00 pm on week nights, he changed the hours to 2:00 am. He did promise Fedora he’d close early, I just think he forgot to tell her it would be early in the morning, not evening.

Its closed for a holiday party. Ah, just saves a trip to a place that's sold its soul to the devil. I looked in the window and it's no different than the last time I was in here.

You know, since this place no longer bears any resemblance or feeling to the original Fedora’s, they should just change the name of it altogether. To me, It’s an insult to the memory of what Fedora’s used to be. The name should be something to suit Gabe and his “Little Wisco” playmates, I’m just thinking off the top of my head here, but perhaps something like: “Cheddarhead’s Amnesia Factory.” Oh and pay no mind to that slurping noise you hear...that’s just Gabe Stulman, licking his own balls. Because he can.

Further Reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, The Half Empty Glass and 365 Bars.

Don't it always seem to go,
That you don't know what you've got,
Till it's gone.
They paved paradise,
And put up a parking lot.

(Surprise link, click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Art From Jaws!

Jaws sent in this artwork to describe how he feels about the new Fedora. I feel your pain, Jaws! Thanks for sending it in!