Remembering 88's Jay Jeffries
Twenty years ago when Greenwich Village was a happier, friendlier place, and Grove Street was affectionately known as Piano Bar Row, 88’s opened on 10th Street just below Bleecker. At the time, it was naively considered an off-the-beaten-path location, a somewhat unlucky spot as the space had previously housed three not very successful restaurants. However, once the r
enovation was completed, 88’s quickly became a popular hangout for the large cross-section of piano bar aficionados. It had a long, comfortable bar that attracted many die-hard regulars, and a warm, open piano bar space where you could always run into a few of your friends and stop to hear some terrific song styling. That was, of course, when the staff who worked there could actually afford to live in the neighborhood, before the rents soared to improbable heights and the Village became littered with high-end stores that nobody seemed to shop in, and a cup of coffee was still called a cup of coffee and not some fancy “Fratalian” name with a price tag that’s higher than the drink prices were back then. It was back then when New York was truly the city that never slept and you could pop into 88’s in the wee hours of the night for one penultimate bar stop before hurrying off to the 5 Oaks for, what was then, the last “last call” of the night. By many standards, 88’s had a nice long ten year run, even though its closing presaged the slow decline of the piano bar community in the neighborhood. You walked through the door and you seemed to know just about everyone in the room and everyone knew you. It was a home away from home. That camaraderie was evident once again last night at the Judson Church where the irrepressible and irreverent Ruby Rims held a benefit “Remembering 88’s” as former staff members and customers got together to celebrate and catch up after some of us had not seen each other for perhaps ten or fifteen years. It was a chance to re-live some joyous memories when Rochelle Seldin would sing “Piano Bar Hell” and Helen Baldasarre would wow them with “The Sin in Cincinnati.” There was Margaret Wright who opened the cabaret room to sing the wryly amusing “The Shape of Things,” and Luis Villabon who has gone on to appear in “Naked Boys Singing” and many other shows, admitting that when he began work as a bartender, he didn’t know a Rolling Rock from a martini. There was Nancy Timpanaro, several pounds lighter, putting “Great Big Baby” to rest. And Lois Sage who has been living in Orlando for the past eighteen years, not only to stir up potent memories singing “Don’t Rain on My Parade” but to introduce us to the next generation of talent, her 16-year-old son, Alexander Oyen, who stopped the show with “Taking the Wheel.”
Lina Koutrakos was also on hand to prove she is a walking master class of cabaret art, and Terri White showed she can still conjure up a laugh and a tear while she holds her audience in the palm of her hand, ably accompanied by the redoubtable Bobby Peaco. But I must admit my favorite moment was when Jay Rogers told a hilarious story about the jazz singer Diane Schuur coming to 88’s one quiet night. Jay, who is opening in Paul Rudnick’s new play at Lincoln Center, has got to be one of the funniest men in New York City. Oh, I’d be remiss if I forgot to mention that all of this was flawlessly coordinated and musically directed by John McMahon who also sang “Loser City” which he wrote with yours truly. And even intermission was a unique experience with the opportunity to reconnect with old friends and indulge in a bit of nostalgia. Suddenly, twenty years seemed like a blip on the time continuum. Those were the days indeed! Jay Jeffries
