Memories of New York Magazine (Part 5)

Perks of the Job

In addition to the priceless education I was getting back in the 1970s and a sneak peek of cultural events about to take place in the city, my job at New York magazine had other perks. There were reviewer’s copies of soon-to-be-released books and musical recordings. I left any books or record albums I did not want on a table in the back of the office. One day in 1978, Ellen Aronoff, the classified ads manager, approached with one of my discards. 

“Are you sure you don’t want this record?” she asked. 

It was Darkness on the Edge of Town. At the time, I was not familiar with Bruce Springsteen.

We also had access to film screenings, concert, ballet, and sports tickets, invitations to gallery and restaurant openings and newly staged museum exhibits. The staff attended an exclusive preview of the magnificent King Tut exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum in late 1976. I had the great fortune to attend performances of the opera Hansel and Gretel and the ballet Sleeping Beauty during Christmas week at the Metropolitan Opera House.  

I witnessed the Metropolitan Opera debut of soprano Catherine Malfitano in the role of Mimi in La Bohème and the first run of the opera Miss Havisham’s Fire and the final run of Beverly Sills in The Merry Widow. I saw Mirella Freni in Faust and La Bohème. And my soon-to-be wife and I were at Avery Fisher Hall to hear Boz Scaggs on a sweltering night in July when the lights went out all over the city. It was the blackout of 1977. With an open night on his tour schedule, Boz invited everyone back two nights later for an encore performance after the power was restored. 

That October, I had a press credential for the World Series and witnessed Reggie Jackson’s three-homer game against the Los Angeles Dodgers for the victorious New York Yankees. I appeared on the cover of New York (with other staff members) in 1976 for Tom Wolfe’s “The Me Decade” story.

Cloned Nazis

There was a screening one night in early fall of 1978 at the Loew’s State Theatre in Times Square of the film The Boys From Brazil that the editorial staff was invited to.

  
“Are you going with us?” Ruth asked me. 

 “Who wants to see a movie about cloned Nazis?” I said dismissively.

The next morning, Ruth arrived in a bad mood, vociferously regretting having gone to the wretched film. She loudly informed everyone in the office that I was the only one on staff with the sense to have declined the invitation. I didn’t have the nerve to correct her, having decided at the last minute to attend.

On another night, in 1976, we saw Martin Scorsese's film Taxi Driver with a raucous crowd at a theater in Times Square. It felt like we were all characters in the film we were watching. There were other screenings in private rooms and large theaters (Robin and Marian—at Radio City Music Hall—The Omen, Murder by Death, King Kong, Silent Movie, The Bad News Bears, Marathon Man) and Broadway and Off Broadway plays (Godspell, Shenandoah, Uncle Vanya, Annie, Apple Pie, Hair, Richard III, Equus) that were more fun than edifying.

Even the daily life at the magazine brought wonderful and unpredictable fun. There were wordplay and ridiculously silly and hilarious over-the-top attempts to come up with puns for different pieces in the magazine. The most outrageous and scatological suggestions never had a chance to seeing the light of print. 

I remember Alan Rich suggesting "Port Noise Complaint" as a hed for a non-existent story on the deafening din in the New York harbor. In the May 10, 1976 issue of New York, Alan reviewed both the Royal Shakespeare Company's marvelous production of Shakespeare's Henry V (with Alan Howard in the title role) and the underwhelming Harold Prince/Richard Rodgers collaboration of Rex, a version of Shakespeare's Henry VIII (with Nicole Williamson in the title role and Glenn Close as Princess Mary). Rex was the rare Rodgers flop. It would close its Broadway run after just 49 performances. I wish I still had the LP of the production. The hed I wrote and which ran for Alan's review was "Hank Cinq and Hank Sunk."

I cannot hear a Johnny Mathis Christmas song without thinking of my former colleague Merry Clark, who once ruefully told me about the moment she realized that Johnny was not singing to her. When I reminded her of that not too long ago, she said, “He’s still not singing to me!” 

Close-up With the Copy Machine 
And in the course of a late-night Christmas party in the office, one booze-fueled contributing writer had a memorable close-up encounter with the magazine’s copy machine. I wasn’t an eyewitness but I did see the evidence in the form of a stack of black-and-white reproductions that Ruth Gilbert kept in the bottom drawer of her desk. As it turned out, it wasn't all that memorable for the writer, who had a hazy recollection of the scene. Days later, his anxiety was not assuaged by reassurances from Ruth and Merry that nothing had happened. The incident would later be rewritten by Tom Wolfe in his novel The Bonfire of the Vanities.

I loved getting up in the morning for my job at New York magazine. New York set the tone—and the bar high—for every other city and regional magazine that followed. I’ve tried to describe how exciting the challenge was, how stimulating it was to be a part of the creative team that worked so hard and took such pride in producing consistently outstanding journalism. The days were long and sometimes exhausting, but what an exhilarating time it was.

            

Still, for as rewarding as the work was, the compensation was not reflected in the salary. Mine was a job that paid just $12,000 annually. Even in 1979, that was not a reassuring figure on which to start a family. So, I began to think about looking for a new job. Elizabeth Crowe, a senior editor, had left New York to become editor-in-chief at Parents magazine. She offered me a position as assistant editor. I thanked her for the opportunity but declined. If I was going to make a move, it would be vertical, not lateral, I told her.

Condé Nast

Another former colleague, Kevin Madden, had left New York as advertising manager to join Condé Nast Publications’ newest start-up, Self magazine, in January of 1979. He told me that Condé Nast was looking for a new editor for its sports division. (Wait, Condé Nast published sports magazines?) It was not a well-publicized property among the company’s more glamorous titles: Vogue, House & Garden, Mademoiselle, Vanity Fair, GQ, Glamour, Allure, Architectural Digest, Gourmet, Bon Appétit, Self. 

Kevin’s tip led to a first interview at CNP, which went well enough that corporate secretary and Vice President of Personnel Pam Van Zandt called me back for a second interview. I was offered, and accepted, the job as editor-in-chief at Street & Smith’s Sports Group.

To be continued