Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Remember Nowheresville? Anyone? Or did I jut dream it.

doing taxes, not writing reposting:

Remember Nowheresville? Anyone? Or did I jut dream it.

It was in the basement of CLUB USA, or whatever that place in Times Square was called. Around 1994 maybe. USA had peeps show booths and a big sign that said SEX or X RATED on the stage, and a one story spiral slide that you went down in a burlap bag, in lieu of the stairs. The slide was great if you were with your friends, all hopped up, and you went down together, on top of each other, ten times in a row while laughing hysterically. But aside from that one amusement and some good looking smut-type design elements, the place was a real bridge and tunnel big soulless club. You know the type.  There was no real reason to ever go there except that someone running the place had the sense to bring in cool people to do cool things, thus Chi Chi and Johnny, the geniuses behind Jackie 60, had a room in the basement where beautiful performers did readings and performance. You needed to know the secret code word to get in so none of the common folk could get in and all of the people from Jackie 60 would hang out there instead of on 14th street one night a week. Of course that made the trek uptown all worthwhile. I could go crazy sliding and sliding and then duck into this secret room, perfectly named Nowheresville, for refuge and art. I could see Johanna Constentine or Hattie or Clark Render do something brilliant and I could bask in the joy of the secret rooms of New York City, one of my favorite things in the world.


No comments:

Post a Comment