$2nd Street was synonymous with sin in the 1970s.
Fucking Rudy Guiliani closed the porno shops and XXX theaters.
Disney moved into the vacated premises.
Now 42nd Street between 7th and 8th Avenues belongs to fat people eating fast food.
A hell of gross consumption.
The Minnesota Strip was no heaven, but I liked it fine.
1976.
Nothing like it in the modern age.
Hot pants.
Rent boys.
Hookers on the Strip.
Flesh peddlers.
Martinis at Hojos.
And let's not forget the pimps.
And now.
No more Babylon.
But it was something.
And we all knew that.
This morning the thermometer outside the window of the Fort Greene Observatory read a frosty 18 Fahrenheit. My hand touched the glass. It was colder than ice. I bundled up for my walk to the train station, but was heartened by the toasty warmth of the sun. The strength of its glow was not a good sign. 2014 had recorded the hottest temperatures since when the USA first charted the weather in the 1870s.
As cold as it was, I felt the approach of summer and thought about girls in tight Hot Pants with their 2-inch inseams and James Brown's 1971 hit HOT PANTS and the lyrics 'She Got to Use What She Got to Get What She Wants)'. The record hit # 15 on the Billboard charts. No one sings about Hot Pants these days, because none of them ever really seen real Hot Pants.
They were a wonder to behold.
1971.
Hot Pants were everywhere.
