Things You Already Knew Dept.: Department of Building Is Corrupt

You watch month after month while the horrific buildings go up one after another while communities wail in protest and you wonder why nothing changes, why the developers march irrevocably forward winning every battle, despite the skyrocketing number of violations and complaints. Then one day you wake up and realize how simple is was all along: The Department of Building is corrupt.


The gentleman you see to the right, the guy that looks like Tammany Hall ward heeler, is Mr. Robert Scarano. In Brooklyn, his name is synonymous with unbridled and unsupervised development (and a number of other unsavory and objectionable things). But at City Hall, he's a pal, a stand-up guy worth protecting. Or maybe Patricia Lancaster, the buildings commissioner, thinks he's handsome or something. Either way, Lancaster has given the Man of a Thousand Violations a pass, accountability-wise, according to The Daily News. I'll just let you read the News report straight, because it is breathtaking:

The top official responsible for enforcing building standards in the city signed secrecy agreements to hide a series of blunders that led to death and building evacuations.

Patricia Lancaster, the $162,800-a-year buildings commissioner, hid the mistakes made by architect Robert Scarano.

Lancaster - also an architect - signed an unusual stipulation promising not to report the alleged misdeeds of Scarano to "any regulatory agency," including one that could revoke his license.

The charges involve 32 properties, mostly in Brooklyn, and include alleged carelessness that resulted in the death of a construction worker and a screwup that forced a Brooklyn family to evacuate its unsafe home.

Lancaster hid a charge that Scarano signed off on unsafe conditions at a Brooklyn site where construction worker Anthony Duncan Sr. was crushed to death in a March 2006 building collapse.

The victim's family is outraged about Lancaster's actions.

"If they are not going to pursue Scarano to the fullest extent, then who are they going to pursue?" asked Duncan's son, Anthony Jr. "It's like they're laughing in my face ... Scarano is still working, but my father is dead."

The so-called no-referral practice hid problems in the self-certification program, a flawed Buildings Department honor code that allowed architects and engineers to sign off on their own work - without independent review.

Numerous city homeowners have suffered the consequences of this bizarre practice via code violations that undermined building walls and foundations and even caused building collapses.

The Scarano stipulation - crafted as the City Department of Investigation was looking into the no-referral practice - was signed as politicians and activists demanded he be barred from further architectural work.

In her stipulation with Scarano, Lancaster promised not to give regulators "any information or documents that form the basis for the [department's] assertions and allegations."

She even vowed not to reveal the charges to the press "except to say that the matter has been resolved satisfactorily."

In exchange, Scarano agreed to remove himself from the self-certification program. He admitted no guilt and suffered no penalty.

That article also discloses other misdeeds by Lancaster, who apparently has no idea that her public office is a public trust.

Newsstand Owners Think Cemusa Sucks Too

Guess what? That Spanish maker of "street furniture" that has defiled our city with their anonymous, ad-filled excuses for bus shelters and newsstands? You know, Cemusa? Not only are their products ugly, but they don't work so well.

The New York Post reports that the structures leak on the newspapers and magazines and that the locks are difficult to use. And Cemusa isn't keeping up with the complaints. Small wonder: they're in Spain! Also, after paying the City $1 billion for the rights to the newsstand and shelter franchise, I doubt the company was very interested in investing more money in quality structures.

You can bet this wouldn't have happened it newsstand owners were allowed to keep their old spaces. Since they owned them, they had a vested interest in keeping them safe and in good condition. Cemusa could care less if the newsstands actually stay open, as long as they can advertise on the side of them.

To top it off, Cemusa lies. They said in a written statement, "We will continue to inspect each newsstand on a daily basis." But none of the newsstand operators interviewed by The Post said Cemusa conducts daily inspections.

In other news, the first Cemusa public toilet was installed in Madison Park. I betcha it's closed up for repairs within three months. Newsstands don't require much smarts to build, but a toilet involves plumbing, meaning skill is involved.

Merry Christmas From the Stevedores

One of my favorite harbingers of the holidays has long been the odd and unexpected Christmas display that appears every year on a lonely block of Van Brunt Street, on the grounds of the Red Hook cargo dock. It's a makeshift, but fairly large manger display, complete with all the figures associated with the birth of Jesus, topped by a largest cursive message in lights reading "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year." I assume it's the work of the stevedores union. It's the loneliest beacon of holiday cheer you'll ever see.

American Stevedoring certainly has reason to have a Merry Christmas this year. After years of trying to push the maritime crowd out, the City has recently backed off its plan to install more cruise line facilities where Brooklyn's last remaining cargo terminal now rests.

Perhaps this new ray of hope has encouraged them to bump up the display a bit this year. Instead of being situated on an obscure entry road to the docks, the display is now right near the edge of Van Brunt, where anyone in a car or on the B61 can see it. It also seems taller and more expansive somehow. And a bit addition is large, 10-foot electric menorah set off to the side. That definitely wasn't there before. Talk about your inclusiveness! Christmas really does make the heart grow bigger—even those of stevedores!

A Good Sign: Veniero's

Veniero's Pasticceria is one of the enduring landmark's of the East Village, and so is its wall-climbing sign. Extra points for the sign on the corner that directs the customer by blinking "100 feet" with an arrow pointing to the west.

Where Cocktail Hour Never Ended

There's been a lot of talk in recent years about the rebirth of cocktail culture. But a perusal of some menus in town lets you know that, for some places and for some people, the previous cocktail era never really died.

Take the menu at Sam's Pizzeria on Court Street in Brooklyn. It looks relatively unchanged since the 1960s. And right there at the top is a selection of twenty or more cocktails for purchase. All the one-time classics are here. Not just the Martini and Manhattan, but the Side Car, Rob Roy, Pink Lady, Black Russian, Stinger, Rusty Nail and Singapore Sling. Even a Sloe Gin Fizz.

Now, if you order one of these, there's no telling what kind of drink you'll get. It will probably be mixed up by the guy who just put your pizza in the oven, after all. But the prices are right. $6.50 across the board. The same drink cost double at any place in Manhattan. The only deviation: a regular Martini is $6.25; an "extra dry" Martini is $6.50.

My advice? Splurge for the extra quarter to ensure you're getting at least a 2 to 1 ratio on the gin and vermouth. Live a little.

Something Fishy

This solemn looking building with the mansard roof was once the center of high society in New York. Situated at the southeast corner of Gramery Park South and Irving Place, No. 19 was the home of Mary "Mamie" Fish, who succeeded Mrs. William Astor as the head of the "400" families in the last 19th century.

Mamie, wife of Stuyvesant Fish, was a revolutionary in her way. Tired of sitting through dinners that lasted several hours, she cut hers down to a brief 50 minutes. Soon, everyone did the same. She called people by their first names, which was not done at that time. She hated opera; once, when asked what her favorite instrument was, she replied, "The comb."

One time, she sent out invitations to a dinner honoring a mysterious prince. The honored guest turned out to be a monkey dressed in white tie and tails, which I'm sure handed her (but not many others) a great laugh. I think I would have liked Mamie's parties.

As liberal as Mrs. Fish was, I think she might have been shocked to find out that, after her family vacated this address, dissolute actor John Barrymore live here for a time.

A Couple Curious Christmas Decorations

New Yorkers certainly get creative around Christmas. Nobody wants to be entirely left out of the decorating binge, and nobody wants to wants to do what the other guy's doing. In the past, Lincoln Center has (if memory serves) adorned the trees in its back plaza with white lighted snowflakes. But this year, that plaza's being ripped up, leaving only a few unsightly pedestrian corridors walled with plywood. Somebody decided that didn't mean things couldn't be a little cheery. And so, the worklights that line these hallways blink on and off in a festive manner. I assumed this was on purpose, and not because of an electrical short.

Meanwhile, over in the Diamond District on 47th Street, I'm not sure what's going on. There are decorations on every lamppost, but what they signify is hard to tell. The vibe is Christmas, but the design is a double-ringed oval topped with a red bow and surrounding the shape of a diamond. I suppose the idea is "give the gift of diamonds." But the thing looks like a giant Easter egg to me, which is ironic, since I'm pretty confident Easter isn't one of the most popular holidays on that street (let alone Christmas).

Germans and Italians Join Forces Again

Without knowing anything about this defunct club in Ridgewood, let me just say that this is the kind of thing that I like to see on your average New York block, the kind of thing that is fast disappearing from the cityscape. Why? Because is speaks of the past, lets us know that New York is a city with a history. Because it's evocative of a sense of community, or, at least, a community that once existed in that particular area. Because the building is not cookie-cutter awful. It's ain't pretty, exactly, but it has personality.

Actually, maybe too much personality. Apparently, this club, at 6060 Metropolitan Avenue, was at the center of a 24-count indictment filed in the Supreme Court in Queens County in April 2005, charging that the Mob ran a gambling ring out of at least three Queens bars, one of them being the above. Italians working out of a German club. Now, for the Mafia, that's pretty clever.

Here's the Scoop: No Scoops

This will probably mean nothing to Manhattan-centric readers, but: Jahn's Ice Cream Parlor has closed its doors for good.

A landmark is a landmark, and this one was in Richmond Hill, Queens, and had been since 1923, when Coolidge reigned, speakeasies were everywhere and life was good. The Richmond Hills location was one of two left (the other is in Jackson Heights) of a small local chain that was founded in 1897 (when McKinley reigned, Lobster Newberg was everywhere and life was good) in the Bronx, at 138th Street and Alexander Avenue, by John Jahn. How's that for a name? John had three kids, and when they grew up he let them each open a branch. Elsie opened one in Jamaica, Howard's was in Flushing and Frank went to Richard Hills. Eventually, there was Jahn's in Bayside, Ridgewood, Sheepshead Bay, even Long Island and Jersey, and, I am told, Florida.

The chain was known for—what else?—its ice cream. The stuff came in 17 flavors. Eat them all at once and it's called "The Kitchen Sink." The place was meant to evoke the 1890s, so many of the old fixtures date from that time, including a wooden bar topped by green marble, much stained glass, vintage sconces, a marble and brass syrup dispenser, and a Seeberg nickelodeon.

According to the Queens Chronicle, Alla Mikit, the former owner, sold the property, along with the two apartments above it. According to Nancy Cataldi, president of the Richmond Hill Historical Society, "the light fixtures and many other valuable Jahn’s antiques were sold to a bidder in the Midwest. The sweet shop’s stained glass windows were also sold." Nice going, Alla. Maybe you could use the money you made from the sale to buy Queens some new 80-year-old culture.

The Jackson Heights branch still exists. I've been to it. The sign is nice, but the interior is fairly charmless. Looks like a typical Greek diner. I understand the menu is fairly identical. (Thanks to Ed's Mobile Blog for the pictures.)

Literary Streets

New York City has many literary landmarks. Chumley's speakeasy, the homes of Edgar Allan Poe and Henry James, the houses on Patchin Place, where many a writer lived, Provincetown Playhouse, the church where Edith Wharton was married, the White Horse Tavern. There are plaques everywhere.

Literary streets are harder to come by. In fact, they're as scarce as hen's teeth. I don't mean street where writers once lived; there are plenty of those. I mean streets named after writers, or their works. You'd think that a town that has been home to more scribes than any other in American history would have a Dreiser Drive, a Whitman Way, a Fitzgerald Street. But no. (And I'm not talking about the temporary street designations that pop up all over the place.)

One of the only thoroughfare's honoring a writer that I know of is Irving Place. This was named after Washington Irving by Samuel Ruggles, who conceived of and built Gramercy Park. Irving, America's first literary superstar, was at the height of his fame when the street was laid out. Another such is across town and is of extremely obscure origins. This is Waverly Place, the beloved Greenwich Village path. Apparently, back in the early 1800s, novelist Sir Walter Scott had many admirers in the Village. When Scott's "Waverly" was published, people liked it so much that, a year after the author's death, they named a road after it. Why they didn't name is after Scott himself, I don't know. Maybe they didn't like his other books as much.

If anyone else out there knows of any other literary street, please speak up.