The Queens Museum is marking the 40th anniversary of the The Ramones’ debut album with
“Hey! Ho! Let’s Go: Ramones and the Birth of Punk,” a retrospective exhibit that opens April 10.
I was sitting at a bar when I learned about the tabloid fodder – Murder! Scandal! Insanity! – enmeshed deep in the roots of my two neighborhoods. Born and raised in Maspeth, I moved to Astoria nearly two years ago. A few months in, I found myself drinking alone at William Hallet, an American bistro on 30th Avenue with a comfort food menu – turducken sandwich with bacon and bourbon ketchup, suckling pig with yam cakes and collard greens – and commendable beer list. Don’t get the wrong idea though. I was meeting someone, and I sipped a dark stout as I waited.
At New York Comic Con, fashion-forward comic artists Cameron Stewart, Robbi Rodriguez, Jen Bartel and Adam Withers spoke on the use of fashion in their work.
The meal itself was unremarkable. It had no business even hinting at the level of transcendence I’ve since bestowed upon it. It was just a decent burger with mediocre fries in an average Irish pub, but there I was, wide-eyed and grinning. I was swiftly approaching foolishness.
Picture this: It’s 1993 and you’re 8 years old. The elementary school cafeteria is abuzz with more than the usual yammerings about Goosebumps books and the awesomeness of dunk-a-roos. At this particular point in time, all anyone you know can talk about is “Maximum Carnage,” the crazy new Spider-Man saga.
Late one afternoon in May of 1963, 22-year-old Colia Clark was heading back to her motel in Birmingham, Alabama, after a long day of protest and riots. Clark was starting across the street when she first saw the fire trucks. Within moments, the high-pressure hose unleashed a torrent. She tried to run, but her high-heels prevented her. “That’s that nigger from Selma,” she remembers hearing the head of the Highway Patrol say. Almost instantly the unrelenting flood was upon her, pushing her around and ultimately pinning her to a wall. One report described pressure “so high that the water skinned bark off trees.” Eventually, she recalls, a young boy with a torn shirt and a huge wound on his chest, rescued her. She would later learn that she was pregnant with her first child.