9148. THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW, Pt. 319

319. GOONS TO SPIEL IT

There used to be

a Chinese toy store

right in the middle

of all that Chinatown

crossroads stuff.  

Crowded with 

items, a befuddling 

middle-aged Chinese 

guy running it, 

maybe he was 

40 then, a few 

little kids around. 

It was the very 

first Star Wars time, 

so whatever that 

was. 1980-82. 

What used to 

really annoy me 

was how slowly 

but sure enough 

all this American 

Star Wars crap  -  

the big white 

Millennium Falcon 

models and all that  

- began encroaching 

on this regular stock. 

Which regular stock 

is what kept bringing 

me there. It's hard 

to explain but, 

back then, there 

was still an overlap  

-  enough of one 

so that his version 

of 'toys' to be sold 

was still some 

Chinese idea of 

what American 

kids liked. The 

stuff was bizarre. 

Truly. And dirt 

cheap. And I still 

have a few things 

from then that I'd 

buy and just stuff 

away, because 

they were so 

obviously primitive, 

basic, foreign-weird, 

and unique. That 

was what drew 

me in, and here 

they go with their 

basic American crap

already, crowding

it out, I'd think.

There was another 

odd-imports store 

around the corner, 

not toys, but 

everything else  -  

in the same vein, 

everything was 

remarkable. Things 

like pencils to 

scissors to washcloths 

and soap. Combs 

and even locks and 

keys. All of the 

imports-from-Mainland

China stuff was 

totally remarkable. 

That distinction 

was important, 

because unlike 

today, Mainland 

China, the Mao 

one, was still almost 

a forbidden land. 

Millions of small, 

motivated, crazed 

people, communards 

going about their tasks 

-   cultural revolution, 

taking sides, killing 

each other off, 

settling scores. Mao 

Tse-Tung and Chou 

En-Lei, those were 

some serious dudes. 

Back then it was all 

still new to us 

Americans, with

 Nixon's opening 

to China and all 

a mere 8 or 9 years 

previous. Mainland 

China was what 

they called themselves, 

and they meant it. 

Taiwan, Formosa, 

all the Chiang Kai-Shek 

stuff meant nothing. 

That was bush-league. 

Chinatown itself 

was split, maybe 

not 50/50, but the 

local population 

went both ways. 

It was dependent 

on your viewpoint 

(and sometimes 

your safety) where 

you ate or hung 

out. There were 

Tongs around 

(gangs of alliance, 

pretty violent 

sometimes) and 

they had their 

ways of taking 

their measure. 

I'd have to guess 

that these two 

stores were on 

the mainland side 

for sure, based on 

what they imported 

and sold. But, no 

matter  -  the weird 

toys I'd get were 

strange metal 

things, ray-guns 

that sparked, 

made strange 

noises, model 

cars that looked 

like something 

from Mars in 

1940. Mao caps 

(hats, not noisemakers), 

model glue, unlike 

any American glue 

I'd ever seen, and 

models too  -  cars 

and animals and 

houses, and 

airplanes.Toy 

soldiers. It just 

went on. It was 

a paradise. Over 

the years it's all 

fallen back, 

melded into 

other things. 

That toy guy, 

last I saw, was 

about 70, and I 

guess his kids, 

I guess it was, 

were running the 

place while he

stared around, 

dazed. Last I 

saw, half a 

year ago, 

it's gone 

totally.

-

If you walked 

around with

the wrong attitude 

about it, all of 

this could get 

you pretty mad  

- both the Chinese 

and the Italians 

were fairly 

ridiculous, in 

the way they 

clustered, and 

held together, 

to all that 

old-world stuff, 

bizarre and 

ancient, and 

never modernized 

or wanted to get 

along with the 

new place they 

were in. Except, 

that's the way 

all of New York 

has always been  

-  all those enclaves 

and local populations 

of immigrants pouring 

in, remaining unsettled 

and mimicking their 

homeland. I don't 

know where any 

of that 'melting pot' 

crap ever got started 

from  -  probably just 

some dumb-ass politician's 

way of being glib and 

stealing votes, but the 

only real 'melting' that 

ever went on was in 

the mishap of 

communication as people 

crashed into each other. 

You can still here all that

'we're all together; we're 

one' garbage today, and 

it's all still false. The 

whole nation is based 

on the lies of corruption.

The same sorts of people,

just grinding away for

lucre. There were places, 

back then, in Manhattan, 

and Brooklyn, where 

you could go and get 

your head handed to 

you if you were from 

the wrong street in 

the Piedmont or Tuscan

or Sicilian or Szechuan

region of wherever  -

back in the old country   -

and showed up here 

on that same wrong 

street  -  same grudges, 

same vengeance, 

everywhere, every 

culture. It was a mess. 

The amalgamation 

that sometime was 

assumed to have 

occurred never really 

did occur  - which is 

why Mafia rub-outs, 

like Joey Gallo's, and

 the Anasatsio one, and

the Columbo one, and 

fifty more, plus the 

Chinese Tong wars 

and murders, occurred. 

It was all grudge-match 

stuff with a genesis in 

the other, far-off, 

places and just 

never put to rest. 

You could catch a 

bullet just for breathing. 

There was one Chinese 

Street, a twisty, curvy 

one, Pell or Doyers, I 

get them mixed up, 

where, close-packed, (a 

new Chinatown Post Office, 

new in the 60's anyway 

had now replaced a 

lot of this), there was 

a series of barber shops. 

One after the other, all 

redundant, and all 

stupid, with Chinamen 

staring out, or just 

sitting around. In 

my studies of the 

area, I found out 

some amazing facts 

in what I read. That 

Post Office, for 

instance  -  already

 a wreck and 

crummy-looking, 

maybe ten-years 

after its Kennedy-era 

construction  -  was 

a cover to get rid of 

of some of the 

unwelcome and 

tawdry aspects of 

the past there. One 

hundred years before, 

this place made the 

old Barbary Coast 

of San Francisco, 

with all its intrigue, 

look like Sleepy-ville. 

Each of these barber 

shops sat over a maze 

of subterranean tunnels, 

all under Chinatown, 

and eventually leading 

to the East River and

to dungeons and caverns  

-  these tunnels were 

controlled by the 

overlord gangs and 

Chinese gang chieftans

 of the era. People would 

disappear. You could 

enter one of the barber 

shops for a trim, and 

within five minutes 

have your throat 

slit and be on your 

own way to Hell 

beneath the streets; 

or just maimed and 

wounded and never 

heard from again. 

These tunnels ran 

everywhere, 

represented an 

entire secret 'economy' 

and a rule of their own 

law. There was so 

much, and constant, 

activity above the 

streets  -  hordes 

of Chinese, running, 

fast-paced, yapping  

-  that the normal 

person passing 

would never realize 

all that was taking 

place below them. 

It came as a surprise 

to me too.

-

Before that it was

'Mulberry Bend,' 

and 'Five Points,' the 

most deadly and 

dangerous part of 

original New York.

The ground there is 

filled with bones.  

The only solution to 

any of it, as order 

was finally established

and the new city formed 

a 'Government', was to 

tear it all down and 

cart everyone away  -  

which is why that 

entire area now is all

government buildings,

police headquarters, 

state and federal 

courthouses, and office 

and headquarters of 

things like Family 

Court of NYC, 

welfare and social 

security offices and 

state-medical clinics. 

It had to be 'disappeared'. 

That's what governments 

have always done  -  

break down and hide 

away the nasty past 

that no longer want 

you to see. They 

make up a new past, 

and hire goons to 

spiel it. If you don't
know about any of that,
it doesn't effect your
current view, obviously  -
but once things like this get
uncovered, you really
begin seeing things, and
understanding that here  -
like everywhere else - 
there's a lot more than
meets the eye.