Farewell, Maxwell’s: Kissing a New Jersey Landmark Goodbye

Some buildings become so ingrained in our psyche, returning to them after some time away can feel like rekindling a storied friendship. I remember as an adult roaming the halls of my former elementary school, feeling like I'd stepped back in time, as if absolutely nothing had changed, not even the paint on the walls or the gum stuck to the lockers. Maxwell's in Hoboken, NJ, is one of those friendships I wished to rekindle, if just for one more night. 

Being a struggling musician most of my youth, I have the unique perspective to admire Maxwell's not only as a patron, but a performer. You see, being a small-time songwriter in New Jersey, Maxwell's was my Madison Square Garden. I had talented friends who performed there, and my ultimate goal was to set foot on that stage and see my name listed on their website's calendar. In August of 2008, after successfully pestering the promoter, that dream became a reality. And despite 2/3 of the 65 people in the audience being our families and close friends, it was a palpable thrill nonetheless. I’d made it to Maxwell’s. The same stage that hosted Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days” video and where Nirvana performed in support of their debut album “Bleach” was now permanently a fixture of my musical resume. I was infinitely proud of myself. It was shortly thereafter when I started a family and the time I normally devoted to recording albums and performing in clubs became scarce. I felt, despite my inner urge to create music and perform it, I had reached the top of the mountain, at least in my mind. I don’t even remember how much I was paid that night. But I do remember how I felt standing on that stage.

Three weeks ago, I’d spotted an article on Facebook about the untimely closing of Maxwell’s, and my heart sank. It was like hearing an old friend had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. How could this happen? Maxwell’s was arguably the most popular hotspot for nightlife in an already burgeoning Hoboken scene! But much like the dying friend, fairness and logic don’t always prevail. There was little I could do but reminisce, before making plans for one last visit. And as it turned out, the reason for that last visit came shortly thereafter. An ex-bandmate of mine, Josh, still performing in the area, managed to secure a set for his new band, Secret Islands, two days before the club’s official close date. It was perfect, I thought, so I did something I rarely do – I bought tickets in advance.

True to form, it took me roughly 35 minutes to find a parking spot in the always unnerving war for a space on Washington Street in Hoboken. And when I finally did find one, it was 12 blocks away from the club. After speed-walking those 12 blocks, I walked in the door to Maxwell’s at the exact moment Josh’s set began. It was timing I had never experienced before. And it was perfect. Thinking back to my days as a regular performer, those were the kind of nights I lived for, when just about everyone you had ever met had shown up, and the energy was so high and positive that complete strangers started to gravitate to the front of the stage. It was a joyous celebration of the club we all held so dear to our hearts. It was intimate and communal, exactly what a show at Maxwell’s should be and always had been. It was so intimate, in fact, that between songs, Josh spotted me in the crowd and shouted, “Hey dude!” It spoke volumes of how informally personal this club was. 

I remember seeing folk artist Ron Sexsmith and punk band Smoking Popes at Maxwell’s years ago. And in both cases, they ate in the restaurant before heading over to the band room to perform. And that’s what I’ll miss most about Maxwell’s. While it held a certain degree of prestige to be on the bill there, the artists were almost always unbelievably accessible, and the worst seat in the house was the best seat in any arena. Put simply, Maxwell’s helped keep the performance of music as intimate and affordable as it should be. Farewell, old friend.

Sincerely,
Joe DeProspero
@JoeDeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com

Do's and Don'ts of Door-Opening

There are few situations more awkward than being faced with deciding between holding a door for someone and letting it close on their outstretched arm. If you're leaving a department store, it's not as terrible since you're likely never to see this person again. But if you're unfortunate enough to work in an office building, the face you crush could potentially be approving your time off someday! So, let's get into some guidance on opening a door for someone else...and how to react when it's done for you.

 This guy surely had ulterior motives, but at least he was polite.

Mouthing "thank you" is not cool

Why do people think that silently moving their lips to the words "thank you" qualifies as gratitude. It doesn't. You have a tongue for a reason (well, for multiple reasons). Use it. Don't be afraid to be polite. Be afraid to be an asshole.

Don't make me run

If I'm three steps behind you, holding the door for me is a no-brainer. But if I'm across the street, on my phone, looking at my feet, please don't hold the door. It's like when my doctor tells me to drink 8-10 glasses of water a day. Ain't nobody got time for that!

Your friend's "thanks" doesn't cover you

We've all been there. You try holding the door for one person, then their buddy follows closely behind. Then, it's as if all of Osama Bin Laden's siblings got let out of a station wagon. You find yourself collecting tips, playing a role you didn't sign up for. And only the first one through so much as thanked you. Unacceptable. We're all responsible for expressing gratitude. This goes triple for the jerks walking through the open door while on their cell phone.

Make eye contact

I've been guilty of not following my own advice on this one, but it's basic human decency to look someone in the eye when they're doing you a favor (or when you're doing them a favor). And if they happen to be cross-eyed or have one eye that's looking somewhere over your left shoulder, pick the eye that's most centered and stare lovingly. It makes a difference.

Thanks for reading.

-Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
Follow me on Twitter here. 

Five Ways to Walk Into Work Without Saying Good Morning

Welcome to my new blog! This one is meant to analyze the social interactions we have with one another everyday. I expect each post to be brief, exact, and to make us all think (maybe a little too much) about the ways we are social (and antisocial) in our lives.

With that in mind, here is my list of five ways to walk into work without having to greet your co-workers.

1. Keep your head down

Sounds obvious, but it's the most direct way to avoid interaction before you're ready to in the morning.And you can double-check to ensure you're wearing two of the same shoe.

2. Pretend you're on the phone

We've all done it. The overly intrusive intern is walking toward you with a cup of coffee and every intention of picking your brain about last night's episode of DWTS. It's way too early in the morning to interact with anyone, much less this guy. So take out your smartphone and fake a conversation with your mother.

3. Run to your desk like you're late for a meeting

Nobody, and I mean nobody engages in conversation with someone who's running indoors. It's a social deflector that says, "I'm late, so don't make me more late." Works every time.

4. Look annoyed

As the great George Costanza once said, "If you look annoyed all the time, people think that you're busy." And they certainly won't want to talk to an annoyed person.

5. Use a vacant office as a sanctuary

I've actually done this myself, and it works like a charm. If you see a potential conversational landmine coming your way, duck into the nearest unoccupied office or cubicle and simply hide there for a few minutes. I should note that doing this before anyone sees you is crucial to the plan.

Thanks for reading.

Stay as social as you think necessary.

-Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
My parent blog: www.aparentchaos.blogspot.com