Posted on 06/02/2002 8:10:42 AM PDT by Luis Gonzalez
So we went to New York City for some urban excitement, which began when we saw our hotel. To avoid hurt feelings, I will call it by a made-up name, ''The Hotel Shpennsylvania.'' It's in midtown Shmanhattan, across the street from Shmadison Square Garden. The Hotel Shpennsylvania was apparently built around the time that North America became a separate continent. I am told that, at one time, it was quite elegant. Of course, I am also told that, at one time, Elizabeth Taylor was a virgin. Our first whiff of the Hotel Shpennsylvania experience came when we entered the lobby, which is furnished in a functional yet practical style, consisting of: a floor. There is more seating provided on the lunar surface than in the lobby of the Hotel Shpennsylvania. This leaves plenty of room to stand, which is what we did for quite a while, in a check-in line approximately the length of the Great Wall of China, but not moving as fast. If you have a loved one who mysteriously disappeared years ago and has not been heard from since, you should consider the possibility that this person is simply attempting to check in to the Hotel Shpennsylvania. The good news was, we finally got a room. The bad news was, it was room 436. If you ever get a chance to stay in this room, I advise you to say: ''Thanks, but I'd prefer a Dumpster, if there's one available.'' I say this because room 436 is a very Spartan. I use the word ''Spartan'' not only in the sense of ''austere,'' but also in the sense of ``last renovated in 500 B.C.'' The walls, ceiling and floor appeared to be made of compressed grime; you got the feeling that if you took a damp cloth and started wiping the walls, you would wipe a hole right into the next room. These walls had no decoration of any kind, unless you count stains. One of the window shades had fallen down, revealing a sweeping panoramic view of: a wall. There were no chairs. There were two sad old beds with mattresses that felt like they were stuffed with dead squid, and a battered desk with a sign on it informing us -- I am not making this up -- that new furniture had been ordered for the room, but it had not arrived yet. This sign appeared to be several years old. When you turned on the bathtub taps, what came out looked like some kind of weak soup. Maybe this was a hotel selling point (``All Rooms With Hot and Cold Running Broth!''). Of course we should have marched down to the desk and demanded a new room, or even checked out. But we did not, for two solid reasons: (1) We didn't want to wait in the lobby line again, and (2) We are shmorons. So instead we went out for the evening. Then, like characters in a bad horror movie who, against all common sense, go down into the dark basement, we returned to room 436. We enjoyed a restful night until about 1 a.m., when the couple next door returned to their room. This couple was really hitting it off, if you know what I mean. I did not realize that it was physically possible for humans to hit it off that many times in one night. We could hear them clearly, because compressed grime does not block sound well, and they were hitting it off with intensity, passion, and what sounded like at least four head of cattle. During those brief periods when the couple was resting, smoking cigarettes, watering the livestock, etc., we would listen to the people in the room on the other side, who apparently were in town for the International Convention of Loud Talkers With Insomnia. They were having a fine time, the kind of time when everything is so hilarious that everybody must repeat it at least four times. A distinct aroma drifting through the grime made us wonder if they were using shmarijuana, but of course that would be illegal, even in New York. Whatever it was, it quieted them down for brief periods, during which the couple on the other side would rouse the steers again. Before we knew it, it was dawn. Other than that, we had a fine time in New York, a truly great city with some of the world's best museums, theaters, restaurants and shopping. Some day we will go back and actually see these things. On this trip, we mainly napped. When we do go back, we won't stay at the Hotel Shpennsylvania. We'll stay somewhere farther from the ''heart of the action.'' Such as Shmontana.
Dave Barry...not millions.
There is one odd thing (among other odd things) about the place: the door to the rooms have two curious smaller doors in the middle, one on the outside and one on the inside. Between these inner doors is a cavity about 8" wide. I really have no idea what the function of these doors are. It must be some strange artifact from a past age. The only thing I can think of is perhaps it was a place for overnight laundry, shirts and etc., to be delivered and hung as the guest slept. Has anyone seen this sort of thing before? Is my guess correct?
I second your observation. I visited Manhattan and the New York City area once. And once was enough for me to determine that I never want to return there voluntarily. The entire city was a grimy cesspool. No museum, no attraction, no anything was worth the visit. I mean, I will never ever go there again unless I'm forced at gunpoint
Your guess is correct. I've heard that in the old days you could even call and have things picked up (from the door closet) for pressing and they would be returned to the door closet in just an hour or so, while you waited.
TV Pays money. Newpapers and Books make unemployment insurance look like a big raise.
If he is very lucky his books pay him about 4 bucks a copy and he has sold a few hundred thousand. But like recording contracts the book deals are in the details. Pubishing companies have little items in the contract that charge things against the royalties. It may say four bucks but it ends up being a lot less.
If you want to make money on a book you have to be big enough so they know your first book will be a success. Then you can negotiate a contract that makes you big bucks. Rush for instance made a couple of million on his two books.
But I doubt if Barry got a very good deal. I doubt very much that he is even close to being rich.
If you want to be rich in the media, get a major Radio or Tv show and make it a hit. Then you can negotiate the second contract for big bucks. Larry King worked for many years on his first contract with CNN for 50 grand a year. That is what Ted Turner offered a 35 grand a year Mutual radio talk show host and that is what Larry took. He was tickled pink to get a long term 50 grand deal.
Larry's last renewal was for about 8 million a year. But Barry is not within 30,000 miles of where Larry King is.
Pubishiers sign people to long deals small bucks and not much else but the fame. The woman that created and wrote the origianl Nancy Drew books just passed away. She was paid a total of one hundred twenty five dollars for each book she authored. And that was it. She wrote 7 books and earned a total of less than a grand. Her books earned the publisher millions. She got less than a grand ... total for 7 hit books.
In the movies, reporters, columnists and authors make big bucks. But in real life....... .
Odd that their virtual tour doesn't extend to Room 436....
-archy-/-
Because he wouldn't have had anything to write about.
Don't keep us in suspense- we Freepers need to support each other!
I actually stayed there several years ago when I attended a convention located there. After checking into my broomcloset, I went down and asked to be moved to a newer room. I was informed that I DID have one of the newly decorated rooms. It at least was clean, but the double bed was wall-to-wall and the plumbing was probably heisted from an old Roman viaduct.
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