Archive for June, 2012

DEAR KINDLY MAYOR BLOOMBERG….

Tuesday, June 19th, 2012

Dear Mayor Bloomberg,

 

I’m not in your life when it comes to galas and cocktails and dinners prepared by your private chef.  You never remember my birthday, invite me to any of your several palatial homes.  I don’t get special license plates so I can park in front of Radio City Music Hall nor do you offer me a ride to the airport on your helicopter so I don’t have to live in LIE traffic.   So, if you’re not going to help me, Mike, why are you trying to control me?    Choice is something that I’m used to.  You seem to like choice too.

 

When you became mayor, no one said, “Like it or not – you have to live in Gracie Mansion because NYC mayors have lived there for over 70 years and it’s the official residence of the Mayor of New York.”

 

We let you decide.  No one told you that if you are really a Democrat you shouldn’t have run on the Republican ticket.  We looked the other way.  Granted, we shook our heads but we looked the other way.

Bike lanes

And though probably everyone told you, “Don’t turn parking spots into bike lanes and make the cars park in the middle of the street, (1st Avenue, 2nd Avenue, 7th and 8th Avenues) forcing cabs to let passengers out in the third lane of traffic, aka “the middle of the street,” you thought, “Hey – I’m the Mayor and why should anyone tell me what to do?”

 

You chose to do this  – a little meshugah, no?  That there aren’t body bags lining the streets yet means you’ve been as fortunate at obstructing pedestrian and automobile traffic as you have been in finance.  And then let’s not forget that air quote third term.

 

Where is the disconnect, Mayor Mike?  You don’t seem to see the lack of logic in what you want, what other people want, and the fact you can’t always get what you want. But you still want it and plan to get it.  Is it because, as a billionaire, you feel entitled?  Is it because you are so politically infused and connected, you feel powerful?  Or, is it that, as a relatively short guy, your chief goal in life is to make the world pay for your lack of heightitude?     First, it was cigarettes.  I don’t smoke, they’re terrible for you and they irritate those around you.  But I like choice.  Even though I think your heart was in the right place, most of us have had, or have a Mommy and Daddy and we were pretty pissed when they told us what to do.   And the cigarettes were just the beginning – we were Neville Chamberlain and you just “wanted” Czechoslovakia.

Picture of Adolf Hitler greeting Neville Chamberlain upon the British Prime Minister's arrival in Munich in 1938.

 

Then came the pedestrian plazas.

  • What gives with all the people? Where's the honking traffic?! Not anymore at the Crossroads of the World, as Broadway is now folks-only from 47th to 42nd Street, as well as down at Herald Square. >

No vote, no say.  Maybe I’d like to catch the M104 or M7 bus and get from 47th Street to 14th Street in less than a fortnight.  Maybe looking at tourists from Kansas City or Alpharetta, Georgia in their Dockers and Crocs and fanny-packs is nauseating enough when I quickly zip by them as I walk.  But to display them like county fair exhibits, sprawled out on, for all practical purposes, lawn chairs, is neither aesthetically pleasing nor emotionally soothing.

 

And now of course, your ixnay on the 64-ounce Supersize drinks.  Again, I don’t drink sugar-soda, but my theory is that you are doing this because the 64-ounce cup is huge, mammoth-size, physically imposing.  And you are not.  We both know that people who still want those 64-ounce sweet drinks are now going to buy two 32-ounce cups because you will not change their behavior.  You will only change their economic status because they will have to pay more for two-32 ounces than one 64-ounce cup.  And they will do this because you have to have your way, Kim Jong Mike.

File:KimJongIl.JPG


 

You make me want to run for mayor, Mike.  I’d hate the parades and the ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and getting those sanitation trucks to prep for a blizzard.  Oy. But you’ve made being mayor look like fun because it seems you just kinda get to do whatever the heck you want to.  Like Eloise at the Plaza Hotel, or most members of the Kennedy family.

 

And so, as Mayor Mollie, here are just a few of the things I have in mind.  I hereby do decree:

1. Whole Foods is changed to Hole Foods, selling only food items with holes –   bagels, Fruit Loops, donuts, Cheerios, Swiss cheese, Ecstasy candy necklaces, Lifesavers  – a funny thought I once had and now, as your mayor, can implement.

                                                                               types of bagels
                                                              

 

 

2. I get to live in the American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Because I can.

Am Wing plaza view

 

 

3.   I don’t like Mexican food.  No more Chipotle Grills or Tex/Mex franchises.  You like guacamole, mole sauce, tostadas?  Go to Oaxaca.

 

 

4. CHANGES AT TIMES SQUARE

 

A)Pedestrian plazas – mowed down along with any pedestrians left gawking at Jumbotron.  Car lanes restored.  ABSOLUTELY NO BIKE LANES – Honk your Harpo Marx bike horn if you’re bummed.  Awwwww.

 

B)”Mamma Mia!”– Ciao!  Get out of Broadway and take Newsies with you.

Disney's 'Newsies' Is Broadway Bound

 

C)Madame Tussaud’s –Returned to Marylebone Road, London.  She’d have wanted it that way.

 

D) Naked Cowboy – clothe him and roll him out, Rawhide!

 

 

E) M&M store – Why is there an M&M store on the corner of Broadway and     49th Street?    Why not an Almond Joy store?  Okay – no one likes Almond Joys… An entire store of M&Ms?  Like we need another reason for 3rd world countries to hate us…

 

F) “TKTS” booth to be renamed “TICKETS” in the interest of not reducing every English word to a tweet.

 

G) Flatotel banished til it comes up with a name that doesn’t make me think, “WTF?”

Flatotel - Rooms

 

5)    The New York Yankees will now be known as the New York Mollies.  Finally, I am in charge of Andy Pettitte:)

 

6)    Bike riders can ride anywhere they want, as long as it’s Riker’s Island. 

 

 

7)   Duane Reade will now be Reade Duane.  Again, because I can.

 


8)    I love cats and dogs more than people most of the time but shit – those Sara McLachlan public service announcements for the ASPCA, Willie Nelson’s “You Were Always On My Mind” playing over one-eyed cats and abused puppies – outlawed.  I’m depressed enough.

 

 

9)   Selling and/or eating sugar-coated cashew nuts on NYC streets – felony. (Hey, Mayor Mike — how’d you miss that one?  I’d rather swim in an above-ground pool of Sierra Mist than come within a foot of those nuts and their vendors).

 

 

10)   H & M back to Sweden.  Having a clothing store that is the fashion version of an impressionist painting, (looks great from afar- close up, confusing, often heinous), helps our city only in the short-run.  When the sparkly mini you bought for that party splits down the middle while you’re standing, you’ll see why $9.99 buys a better burger in NYC than an outfit. 

 

11)  Selling of fake designer bags now legal.    Until Hermes can explain why there’s a longer wait-list for their Birkin bag than for a kidney, banned.  Non-negotiable.  That’s how Mayor Mollie rolls.

 

12)  Skorts, nautical-wear, any fringed article of clothing – boots, vests, David Crosby suede jackets – public execution.  Herald Square is now Tower Square.

 

 

13) Everyone can smoke cigarettes in the city, but only at Mayor Bloomberg’s townhouse.  Time to start bringing back conch shells from Bermuda, Mayor Mike – they make great ashtrays!

 

 

14)  High Line II – Will run through Williamsburg, Red Hook and Park Slope.  We’ve finally come upon a structure that draws noise, foot traffic, pollution and tourists – none either individually or collectively more annoying than hipster bikers, food co-operatives and children named Atticus, Romy or Sadie.  Bringing them together?  P.R. magic!

So there you have it.  There’s a new sheriff in town.  And she can reach the medicine chest without standing on tippy-toe.