Haven for arts, Chelsea Hotel sold to hotel chain

 THE New York hotel that inspired writers and artists from Mark Twain to Sid Vicious has removed the longtime manager who nurtured their sanctuary, raising concern about the future of an institution.

The Chelsea Hotel, where artists like Christo toiled before becoming famous, is about to get a renovation.

But Stanley Bard will no longer be in charge.

Mr Bard, one of three longtime owners, was ousted by his partners in a board vote last week, though he may stay on as adviser.

The partners chose to replace him with BD Hotels, a large hotel management firm that vows to preserve the hotel’s charm while upgrading its wiring, plumbing and mechanical functions.

“It’s emotional for me and somewhat painful. I spent 50 years creating something,” said 73 -year-old Mr Bard, who started at the 12-floor, 250-room hotel in 1955.

“There’s something in the walls. There’s something here that I feel is very important to protect,” he said.

It was Mr Bard who decided which struggling artists deserved a break on the rent and welcomed the hippies and punks who were rejected elsewhere. He never minded when artists sloshed their paints on the walls and floors of their studio apartments.

“It’s a crazy place with really sane people in it,” said artist Robert Lambert, a five-year resident whose canvases crowd his fifth-floor room.

“Stanley Bard is the conductor.”

A partial list of those who stayed there includes Twain, Sir Arthur Clarke, Stanley Kubrick, Arthur Miller, Andy Warhol, Dylan Thomas, Tennessee Williams and Jane Fonda.

The hotel charges between $US285 ($337) and $US785 a night but also reserves rooms for permanent residents.

Their artwork adorns the halls, where the smell of marijuana has been known to drift.

The new managers hope to reach an agreement so Mr Bard can remain as the face of the place where punk rocker Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols killed his girlfriend Nancy Spungen in 1978 and where Bob Dylan, according to his own lyrics, wrote Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands.

“We would love to work with Stanley. He is the heart of the Chelsea,” said Ira Drukier, one of the principals of BD Hotels.

Mr Drukier said the new management would still be liberal with artists struggling to pay the rent, but that improvements were needed.

“You should be able to switch from your computer to your blow dryer without all the circuits blowing out.”

The etiquette of the office bathroom has become the latest “huh?” in my mental arsenal of baffling things. 

I’ve voiced my concern to several friends and acquaintances, and now I post it here.  The concern pertains to the women’s bathroom, one particular stall.  It is the stall farthest from the door, the stall notoriously known for being the most spacious.  It is the stall for those with a disability that prevents them from using a regular stall with ease. 

For whatever reason, office workers insist on using this stall for the dropping of the deuce.  It is the farthest from the door and therefore, I suppose, the most polite place to do the business.  Personally, I don’t get it.  Didn’t they read the book? Everybody poops!  This includes elephants and mice.  It’s okay if you gotta go.  Just go.  It’s okay if it stinks. That’s normal.  Make use of the courtesy flush if the embarassment of a bowel movement in a public restroom is overwhelming.  Office toilets flush so fast anyway–you could successfully courtesy flush as bookends to the deed, and one in the middle if necessary.  Or, do what some of the ladies do–enter the stall to do your business, and then remain completely still and quiet until everyone else leaves the restroom.  As soon as you are alone, poop like the wind.  Faster than the wind, even.  If someone enters, pause.  It’s a sort of camode chameleon.  I am equally confused by this phenomenon.

However, if you have brains, just go.  For the love of goodness, just do your business, flush(it still kills me that people forget this part of the deal), wash the digits and get on with your day.  It really is just that simple. Nobody cares, really, they don’t. 

This is what concerns me:  the abuse of the handicap stall.  Why do office women insist on dropping the deuces here, and only here?  My concern lies with those in the same building, on the same floor who use the same bathroom, who actually USE the handicap stall.  Not only do they use it, but they NEED to use it, because the other stalls are not suited for their needs.  I think it’s downright rude to constantly be dumping in the only stall that some workers can use.  Real nice.  If I had a disability and I could only use the handicap stall, I would be pissed off about the constant potential stinkage.

I am guily of using the roomiest stall for other purposes–two times a day during the week, it is my phone booth.  I ride the bike into work and this is the easiest, most spacious place for me to change into my business casual and get on with it.  I don’t piddle around in there–I get dressed, I get out, done and done.  And my deuce droppage?  Done in the first stall(my slight form of protest), or whichever one is available if that one is occupied.   

I know, perhaps it is a silly thing to baffle me, but it does!  I’m concerned with how timid and sheepish grown women are about these natural occurances.  I’m concerned, but not surprised.  I would not have brought it up, but this morning I did my change thing in the last stall and noticed that someone had put a can of air freshener in there, next to the toilet dispenser.  Proof to my theory that others are treating this as their throne of droppage.  I wish I could explain how close I am to hanging a sign in there that says “Please crap in the other stalls available to you, you inconsiderate, selfish, scared little dumpers.  No one’s shit smells like roses.  Get over it.”

And speaking of crap,  I do not like Hillary Clinton’s little Sopranos-spoofing campaign ad/commercial about choosing a campaign song.  Horrible.