The Lamelight

I used to go to chuch.  Not regular church, although Mom did try and force Catholicism on me.  I mean I used to go to clubs, lots of clubs, and one of them was held in a church.

The Church of Sin

The name of the location was Limelight, or Avalon depending on who you asked.  Often times a long line full of twinks greeted you, or girls if you were going during straight nights, and once you were checked for id you were led through a passage with glowing steps overlooking an honest to dog church mural.  It was at this point that I was already too drunk to focus on what was on the mural, but I imagine it was something you’d typically find in any church.

I’d go to these clubs not necessarily because I enjoyed the clubs you see, but because I was new to New York and Fly G was my only friend.  He loved going to these clubs, but his enthusiasm was infectious and so I wanted to go to these clubs.

I’m more of a cheap dive bar and lounge kind of guy now.

I'm in there somewhere

Nevertheless I noticed that Fly G tagged a photo of me on Facebook.  I was curious because he hadn’t taken a photo of me.  What I saw was myself and several other people tagged in a crowd of the interior of the limelight. We weren’t actually in the picture but the sentiment was that we’d gone there.  It was then I saw that Fly G had tagged our names in defiance against the new renovation of the Limelight.

“LIMELIGHT/AVALON BEFORE THEY RUINED IT! THE GOOD DAYS OF NYC NIGHTS!” was Fly G’s caption.

The good days of nyc nights were something of sentimental value for me.  It wasn’t the overpriced drinks or pushy bouncers.  It wasn’t the lurid dark room where I lost my wallet because of some less than savory activities.  It also wasn’t when I ended up bringing leftover coke to Fly G’s place, or when I got a kiss from the bartenders.  It was never the place but it was the people so tied to the place.

The building itself wasn’t of any value, but my memories of the people I was with were certainly invoked with that time and place and that building.

Fly G then posted the renovated limelight.

Now it's a mall

Well maybe I was wrong.

My memories of overpriced drinks and laughter with friends had been steamrolled into a tacky gift mall and I felt affected by it.  Has there ever been something as gauche as a mall?  This encroaching AIDS from Los Angeles crusts around New York every so often.  I swear it has followed me from Los Angeles because I left there as malls exploded into Metropolitan shopping centers.

Malls and New York don’t mix. They should have had the decency to put a mosque in there.  Fly G has fallen into a great depression since he snapped pictures of the mall.  His response is a “save the clocktower” style of rant.

“The staircases and balconies are still there! It can still be saved!” He says.

My response is to run away as fast as you can, before you turn into a mall.