Appreciate your ongoing "Leaving New York" or finding a workaround to the high cost of being there. So relatable...what is quirky and cool at 28 wears thin by 40. In 1992, I finally gave up my $275 fifth floor walkup with tub in the kitchen when rents were already passing $1000 there and I looked around knowing it was not my destiny to remain there like the older Ukranian folks who lived out their last years in my building. I moved to Colorado.
I wonder if you are still in touch with Sophie--my landsman. I'm also from western NY. I'm still in NYC--now in Queens--but this piece reminded me of my own basement studio apartment on the Upper West Side. $230/month when I moved there in 1977. Bars on the windows, view of the buildings' garbage cans. I attracted Peeping Toms. One hot summer night I was sitting on my little sofa watching my little TV when I noticed a gap in my venetian blinds. Someone's hand had reached in through the open, barred window and was watching me. Then he spoke: "I've got a big one. Wanna see?" I grabbed my fire-engine red landline phone and dragged it into the bathroom, shut the door, and called the police. It took them thirty minutes to come and when they did, they found the guy passed out near the garbage cans. Ah, youth! Last I checked on StreetEasy, my little basement studio now costs $1700 a month. And they have put up a locked gate, so the neighborhood "characters" can no longer access the two below street level windows.
What a charming piece Sari! You just popped into my in ox this morning…one of the joys of substack.
My son lives in NYC, at one time on Mulberry St and St Marks so I recognize some of the neighbourhoods you mention. He also loves to walk which is how I think he came to know the city so well.
Such a sweet evocation of non-linear time! I was forced out of my one-bedroom in Sunnyside (before it was cool) during a journalism downturn, and never made it back to NYC. I sublet my apt to a family friend who returned to his/our apartment one night to face a robbery in process. So he fled to New Orleans where he became a big deal in the restaurant biz, while I was exiled to Knoxville, TN, for a magazine job. Oh youth! Oh walks to work over the Queensborough Bridge!
There's so much I love in this story. My other life partner (outside of my husband) is Los Angeles, and while I don't live there now, my relationship with it is very much alive, in a way similar to what you write about in your relationship with NY. Non-linear time - it's something I meditate on often, and often jolts me away from my to-do list and into the present moment. I adore how it's referenced several times in this wonderful piece.
I have so much to do, but your experiences drew me in and kept me reading—those damned "what ifs," can be haunting. I love the serendipity of Sophie's predictions unfolding for you (I have experienced kooky magic in my life and never tire of hearing other's tales. They make life so fun); I laughed over your neighbor's request about your singing; I related to your time-travel experience provoked by a place (your empty apartment). Two days ago I got weirdly emotional as I hiked up to the Hollywood sign. I've lived in LA for 40 years—FORTY YEARS—and that was a first for me. My emotions were provoked by seeing the sign and realizing how much I've been through in those four decades since I moved to LA. Your words in your empty apartment mirrored my feelings. That's what good and thoughtful writers can do, make us feel, think, and laugh.
I see that moment you had with that chatty former musical actress as a balance to the ache of your real estate "what if." She had her own "what ifs" from staying put.
Your story has given me a lot to think about.
P.S. That day I hiked up to the Hollywood sign, and I picked up my adult daughter at her apartment. My eyes fell on a stack of books she had near her couch. "What? That's the book I've been looking for!"
She snagged my copy of "Never Can Say Goodbye," without me knowing. I bought your book from Book Book on Bleeker right before it closed for good. I read those NYC tales all night long while staying at my favorite hotel across from Washington Square Park. I didn't want to buy another copy, since that one had soul.
Thank you, Michele, for letting me know how much this resonated for you, in so many ways. <3 PS I have some LA envy! Love that city. PPS Thank you for getting my book! (And getting it back from your daughter!)
Ah, those long gone cheap apartments! Our kid just moved into their first solo Brooklyn apartment...not so cheap, since this is now impossible to find...and I found myself reminiscing about my last cheap railroad apartment on the Upper West Side. An awful place, but it was cheap and when I met my husband, and he moved in, we suddenly had an enviable lifestyle. We could travel, we could eat at fun restaurants, go to theater etc. But in the end, while I sometimes wish I'd hung on to the place, it was better that we moved to Brooklyn and then upstate. It was fun going to the Red Hook IKEA, eating meatballs, gravy, and lingonberry sauce like old times, assembling the furniture, checking out the restaurants in the new neighborhood. So far our kid is still a diehard New Yorker, just like I was. We'll see what happens.
Nope. It’s you. I almost introduced myself at something—Rosendale theatre, wired gallery… can’t remember.
I hear you re: missing the serendipity of the City. We bought our Krip house (#1, empty 10 years) 43 years ago (20K with 1.5ac) … but, in my heart, I’m still
And there’s one more: when you first came north you called me about renting our art studio in Kripplebush. I cannot remember if you came to see it but I think you did not.
Appreciate your ongoing "Leaving New York" or finding a workaround to the high cost of being there. So relatable...what is quirky and cool at 28 wears thin by 40. In 1992, I finally gave up my $275 fifth floor walkup with tub in the kitchen when rents were already passing $1000 there and I looked around knowing it was not my destiny to remain there like the older Ukranian folks who lived out their last years in my building. I moved to Colorado.
$275!!! I totally get it.
I wonder if you are still in touch with Sophie--my landsman. I'm also from western NY. I'm still in NYC--now in Queens--but this piece reminded me of my own basement studio apartment on the Upper West Side. $230/month when I moved there in 1977. Bars on the windows, view of the buildings' garbage cans. I attracted Peeping Toms. One hot summer night I was sitting on my little sofa watching my little TV when I noticed a gap in my venetian blinds. Someone's hand had reached in through the open, barred window and was watching me. Then he spoke: "I've got a big one. Wanna see?" I grabbed my fire-engine red landline phone and dragged it into the bathroom, shut the door, and called the police. It took them thirty minutes to come and when they did, they found the guy passed out near the garbage cans. Ah, youth! Last I checked on StreetEasy, my little basement studio now costs $1700 a month. And they have put up a locked gate, so the neighborhood "characters" can no longer access the two below street level windows.
Yes, I'm still in touch with her! What a story...
What a charming piece Sari! You just popped into my in ox this morning…one of the joys of substack.
My son lives in NYC, at one time on Mulberry St and St Marks so I recognize some of the neighbourhoods you mention. He also loves to walk which is how I think he came to know the city so well.
I look forward to reading more of your work!
Thank you, Gina! Always good to have a family member in the city you can visit with!
Such a sweet evocation of non-linear time! I was forced out of my one-bedroom in Sunnyside (before it was cool) during a journalism downturn, and never made it back to NYC. I sublet my apt to a family friend who returned to his/our apartment one night to face a robbery in process. So he fled to New Orleans where he became a big deal in the restaurant biz, while I was exiled to Knoxville, TN, for a magazine job. Oh youth! Oh walks to work over the Queensborough Bridge!
Thanks, Peter.
There's so much I love in this story. My other life partner (outside of my husband) is Los Angeles, and while I don't live there now, my relationship with it is very much alive, in a way similar to what you write about in your relationship with NY. Non-linear time - it's something I meditate on often, and often jolts me away from my to-do list and into the present moment. I adore how it's referenced several times in this wonderful piece.
Thank you, Laura!!
This is wonderful :)
Brings back memories to my six years living on Prince and Mulberry in my twenties, truly it was Little Italy!
Thank you! By any name, such a great neighborhood.
Wonderful, layered essay, Sari, filled with humor and melancholy. Bravo. I love reading about your New York roots. Where is Sophie now?
Thanks, Deborah. She's still there! (Not her real name.)
Will you send this to her?! (Or have you already?) She's iconic.
I have so much to do, but your experiences drew me in and kept me reading—those damned "what ifs," can be haunting. I love the serendipity of Sophie's predictions unfolding for you (I have experienced kooky magic in my life and never tire of hearing other's tales. They make life so fun); I laughed over your neighbor's request about your singing; I related to your time-travel experience provoked by a place (your empty apartment). Two days ago I got weirdly emotional as I hiked up to the Hollywood sign. I've lived in LA for 40 years—FORTY YEARS—and that was a first for me. My emotions were provoked by seeing the sign and realizing how much I've been through in those four decades since I moved to LA. Your words in your empty apartment mirrored my feelings. That's what good and thoughtful writers can do, make us feel, think, and laugh.
I see that moment you had with that chatty former musical actress as a balance to the ache of your real estate "what if." She had her own "what ifs" from staying put.
Your story has given me a lot to think about.
P.S. That day I hiked up to the Hollywood sign, and I picked up my adult daughter at her apartment. My eyes fell on a stack of books she had near her couch. "What? That's the book I've been looking for!"
She snagged my copy of "Never Can Say Goodbye," without me knowing. I bought your book from Book Book on Bleeker right before it closed for good. I read those NYC tales all night long while staying at my favorite hotel across from Washington Square Park. I didn't want to buy another copy, since that one had soul.
I now have it and will read it again.
Thank you, Michele, for letting me know how much this resonated for you, in so many ways. <3 PS I have some LA envy! Love that city. PPS Thank you for getting my book! (And getting it back from your daughter!)
Oh man I miss the french toast at La Bonbonniere!
That place is an institution!
Ah, those long gone cheap apartments! Our kid just moved into their first solo Brooklyn apartment...not so cheap, since this is now impossible to find...and I found myself reminiscing about my last cheap railroad apartment on the Upper West Side. An awful place, but it was cheap and when I met my husband, and he moved in, we suddenly had an enviable lifestyle. We could travel, we could eat at fun restaurants, go to theater etc. But in the end, while I sometimes wish I'd hung on to the place, it was better that we moved to Brooklyn and then upstate. It was fun going to the Red Hook IKEA, eating meatballs, gravy, and lingonberry sauce like old times, assembling the furniture, checking out the restaurants in the new neighborhood. So far our kid is still a diehard New Yorker, just like I was. We'll see what happens.
I am now obsessed with Sophie.
(Not her real name. Happy to share her info if you're interested.)
Sophie=Terry? I lived next door to Terry and, later, next to the 8/B Shul.
Nope. It’s you. I almost introduced myself at something—Rosendale theatre, wired gallery… can’t remember.
I hear you re: missing the serendipity of the City. We bought our Krip house (#1, empty 10 years) 43 years ago (20K with 1.5ac) … but, in my heart, I’m still
a NY’er.
🎯
And there’s one more: when you first came north you called me about renting our art studio in Kripplebush. I cannot remember if you came to see it but I think you did not.
Oh, wow. I don’t remember that. (There are three other women named Sari in the area…)
You definitely should have kept the apartment
https://open.substack.com/pub/marlowe1/p/three-more-by-john-cheever?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=sllf3
I know, I know...
Really lovely essay filled with angst and memories. I love that the predictions came true.
Me, too! Thank you.
Love this. That old broad was RIGHT. Mostly ....
It's a mixed bag, a cheap apparment in NYC!!
I think you need both.