The Things That Scare Us

People always say it takes guts to go after the things you want, and I think that's true, but I also think it takes a certain level of blindness, an inability to see or understand the implications of what you're trying to accomplish.

I find myself constantly afflicted with this aforementioned blindness, though usually, thankfully, it seems to work out in my favor. I think because if you do have that blindness, a negative response to your actions doesn't really phase you. So maybe bad things have happened when I've blindly gone after the things I've wanted, but I've just never noticed them. What's that saying about ignorance being bliss? And what on earth am I talking about?

In the past, people have asked me how I've been able to do certain things--how did you get so-and-so to appear at your reading? How did you get your article in such-and-such publication? "Well," I always say, "I just asked." There's really no big secret to it. On many of these occasions, I have been blind to negative outcomes and I just do what I want to do. If it doesn't work out, okay; or, in the immortal words of my mother, "NEXT!"

Such was the case again this week when I was presented with an interesting dilemma--there was an article from the February 5, 1985 issue of The Village Voice I wanted to read as a reference for an article I was working on for another publication, and I couldn't find it online. The piece, titled "I Spy," was written by famed former Voice film critic J. Hoberman, Jim to friends. I contacted him and asked if he had a copy I could read. I didn't think there was anything really special about doing this. I guess my mother had also told me to simply go to the top first, and if that person can't help you, then try someone else. So I went to the source, and to my delight, he responded in the affirmative--yes, he did have a copy I could read, but he didn't have a scanner. Could he mail it to me? Or, he said, I could find the Village Voice archives at the NYU Bobst Library. If he mailed it to me, the piece wouldn't get to me until after my deadline. Would I be able to meet him in person? I asked. I would be glad to get him a coffee or whatever pastry his heart desired as thanks. While I waited for his response via email, I called up the libraries just in case he wasn't available.

It turns out I could only go to Bobst Library if I had an NYU student ID (nope), an NYU alumni ID (also nope...and neither did HanOre, an actual alum, so I couldn't even borrow it), or permission from the New York Public Library in the form of what's called a METRO pass to use Bobst--meaning that whatever I needed was not available in the NYPL system so I, sad and pathetic researcher that I am, had no place left to turn except Bobst and they would take pity on me. So, before wandering down that path, I called up the NYPL--did they have what I need in microfilm? No--they only had the July to December issues of the Voice, or so it seemed. Well, that was one element crossed off my list. Now it was time to call Bobst, to see if my treasure was buried in their microfilm...and it turns out it wasn't there either. Jim was now my only hope.

And to my delight, he was available. We would meet for coffee. "See you there then," he wrote. "I'm a grizzled guy with glasses." I chuckled.

*

"Hi Jim, I'm here outside of the Anthology Film Archives in a leopard coat and cowboy boots. Thanks again for meeting me today, and I'll see you soon!" is probably on the list of the most "me" things I have ever said. 

But I am easy to spot (no pun intended), and shortly Jim appears, in a maroon beanie and black leather jacket pinned with some kind of band button I can't decipher. His beard matches his self- description and I appreciate his self-awareness. We attempt one coffee shop, but it's full so we try another. Shortly I have a latte in his hands and a tea in my own and we are sitting and chatting. He takes out a padded folder and removes his piece, a perfect photocopy, and hands it to me. After all of the library-calling and emailing, it feels less like a treasure map and more like the treasure itself. I am so excited to read it, but I am also excited to chat with him about his work and the golden age of The Village Voice. He tells stories and laughs and we talk about freelance writing, and it's a lovely time. He shares details of his life--his teaching gigs at Cooper Union and, soon, Columbia; his past and forthcoming books; growing up in Queens--and asks me about mine. I am honored that he has been kind enough to take an audience with me, but also that he is interested in my own life. On our way out, I ask him if he hates it when people ask if he's "seen any good movies lately." He does, he laughs, then we shake hands and part ways. He says he is interested in reading my piece when it comes out.

This is where the blindness comes in for me, I think. I didn't just say, Jim Hoberman, legendary and accomplished film critic, I am going to ask you to coffee! I just said, here's some research I need to do, and this is how I'm going to get it done.

So yes, Jim was the film critic at The Village Voice for almost 25 years; he has written several books about film, has taught at Cooper Union, Harvard, NYU and, shortly, Columbia; and he has twice served on the board of the New York Film Festival; and, as he writes in his website biography, "the thing of which he’s most proud is surviving for over 35 years in New York without the benefit of a normal job." But he's still a person, as we all are. We all put on our pants the same way. Some of us have just been putting them on for longer and in more distinguished places, but those of us who haven't have the opportunity to catch up and get there, too.

And this is not to say that I haven't been scared meeting other people in the past. I was notably fearful about what kind of salad I should order while having lunch with James Wolcott. But I was still there--courage is not the absence of fear, after all; it is acting in spite of it. 

I am scared of so many things, often without reason--failure, butter, rejection, every time I pitch Vogue, texting guys I am dating, mayonnaise--but I try to notice what scares me, recognize the fear is holding me back and do it anyway. Eat the butter, text the guy, pitch Vogue, fail, get rejected, then get back up and do it all again.

I guess if you ask me how end up doing certain things, if I am ever scared, this has been the very long-winded version of my answer. I just never let fear stop me.

The photocopy of Jim's piece

Grounds and Leaves

Perhaps once or twice you've been like me, stumbling around Union Square aimlessly looking for a coffee shop with both free WiFi and enough seats to be able to sit and use it for an extended period of time. Finding a good cafe to work in can be difficult and annoying, especially when you're lugging your laptop around, already beginning your workday with a roadblock. You might say it should be easier, but I patently refuse to patronize corporate coffee joints where there are so many independent businesses all over the city that I could support. In order to ease your frustration and ensure a positive coffee shop work environment for you, here is a short list of some of my favorite spots in Manhattan. If you go to these places, many of which I have sat in for hours and hours at a time, I promise you will not only get your work done, but you won't be in a dark, cramped corner battling a temperamental internet connection while you do it. In my pursuit of 1) coffee shops with 2) free WiFi that is a 3) independent business, these have become some of my favorite locations. Fun fact: I know nothing about coffee because I can't drink it for health reasons--at all of these places I can only speak for their tea (often English Breakfast Tea with milk and one Splenda please, if you must know), so please keep that in mind.

1. Everyman Espresso
136 E. 13th Street

Everyman Espresso is easily my favorite work location in the city. I don't remember exactly how I found it, but it's gotten to the point where I've learned the names of the people behind the counter and greet them warmly because I see them so often. They're friendly, and they aren't jerks when you tell them you want a Splenda in your tea instead of organic agave syrup. Everyman doesn't serve meals, but they do have pastries and bars for sale if you get hungry, and they allow outside food if you want to bring in something from the several surrounding to-go joints. Also, the coffee shop is actually in the lobby of the Classic Stage Company, so you'll see an occasional celebrity passing through on their way to a rehearsal or call time in the theatre (a recent sighting was Taylor Schilling, when she was doing Ivan Turgenev's A Month in the Country with Peter Dinklage). WiFi is always on point, they play funky tunes (Chaka Khan, Nine Inch Nails, Robyn) and I've never had too much trouble finding a place to sit.

2. Ground Support
399 West Broadway 

Ground Support is great because it has a nice little menu of pastries, salad, and sandwiches, and their sandwiches are half-off after 5pm. Not to mention they also have small PB&J sandwiches on baguettes for a $1.25 if you're trying to save a buck or two. Their tea sizes are nice and large, baristas are cooler than you with interesting tattoos in only black ink and they have good taste in music (aside from the one time I was in there and they played Thin Lizzy's "The Boys are Back in Town" four or five times in a row). There's a lovely sun roof in the back room, and a large glass window in the front room that give the space great light. WiFi behaves pretty well and pretty consistently. Occasionally they have free books in the back, or maybe they just did one time, but I was able to grab a copy of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark so I was pretty psyched about it. When it's nice out, they open the back doors and everyone sits on the Eileen Fisher stoop even though technically I guess you're not supposed to. If you're lucky, you'll run into rad writer Harris Sockel, who works in the area and frequents the spot. Also, lots of other attractive men who are graphic designers or work at startups and use the cafe as their office.

3. Tisane Pharmacy
340 E. 86th Street

Working at Tisane makes me feel like I'm in a 1950s drugstore, but updated and with high-end moisturizers I can't afford. There's a blue-tiled counter with barstools and flavored syrups on tap resting on top of it. There are also two small tables in front, but I usually prefer the one closest to the window because it's also the one nearest an outlet. Sometimes there's an older woman who sits there reading a book and I internally glare at her, when I should really just ask her if we can please switch tables because my computer's dying please? They have pastries from Balthazar and at least one kind of deal each day. They also have a punch card where you can earn a free beverage. There are endless varieties of loose tea, which they'll shovel into a little pouch for you as a personal teabag. I sit there for hours (no problems with WiFi) and nobody bothers me.

4. Think Coffee
73 8th Avenue

Whenever I have to be in Chelsea or the West Village at some point after working for the day, I head to this spot. It's important to note that there are multiple locations of Think, and not all of them have WiFi, but this one does. Lots of young people work there, I imagine since it's in NYU territory. I recommend getting a table in the front where there's a nice big window because it's a little dark in the back, but you have to move fast because people will jump on that real estate pretty quickly. They make a mean grilled cheese if you get hungry, but they have a variety of other sandwiches available as well. All their containers and paper products are made from recycled materials, and the coffee is fair-trade.

5. Irving Farm Coffee Roasters
224 W. 79th Street

I've had to have some meetings on the Upper West Side when people say, hey, let's meet at [corporate coffee shop name redacted]! And I'm like, no, let's meet here! Irving Farm is another scenario where there are multiple locations, but it's not a chain, and all of the locations are in New York--either in the city or in the Hudson Valley. Tables are wood and chairs are metal but not uncomfortable, and it's easy to find a spot if you're working by yourself or with a friend. Full disclosure--I've never actually worked here using the WiFi so I can't speak to the quality of it, but I know it's difficult to find an independent joint in that neighborhood with WiFi, so I wanted to mention it. They have a menu of great breadth and depth--you can get everything from salads to pretzel sticks and all varieties of coffee/tea beverage. Everyone is busy working there, so you don't have to overhear inane conversations where a college student is wondering why the guy she's having sex with isn't texting her back, and you aren't distracted with your own loud thoughts like JUST GET OUT NOW AND STOP WASTING YOUR TIME WITH STUPID BOYS WHO DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU OR TREAT YOU LIKE A HUMAN AND JUST LOVE YOURSELF PLEASE. They also have some outdoor tables in the warmer months if you'd like to work outside (though I'm not sure what the WiFi situation is with that).