It was a store whose ambiance and irascible tenant could never be replicated. There never will, and cannot ever be another Pop Myer\u2019s.<\/p>\n
His tiny store stood on the northwest side of Crotona Avenue just off Tremont in the Bronx. Overwhelmed by its prosperous commercial neighbors on Tremont Avenue, it seemed to have dissolved into the surrounding bricks of the one-story building that housed it.<\/p>\n
How did I learn of Pop Myer? My friend, Alvin entered the candy store dressed in the most outrageous orange tweed pants. They had a zipper fly that appeared to be made of fossilized teeth from Tyrannosaurus Rex. It’s waist rose to the armpits, and the crotch extended from his upper abdomen to his knees.<\/p>\n
To annoy, horrify and amuse the women sitting outside the candy store on East 172 St, Irv would grasp Alvin\u2019s fly, and twist it into a spiral, while Alvin held his hands to his head screaming, Oy! and groaning Vey!<\/p>\n
My day came to meet Pop Myer. The Central Hotel in the Catskills hired me as a busboy.\u00a0My wardrobe consisted of a pair of dungarees, a brown, and a gray pair of woolen pants. I needed navy-blue pants like I needed a pair of corduroy spats. Where do I get a cheap pair of navy-blue pants? Alvin\u2019s orange pants flashed before me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlvin, where did you get those pants?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t believe this place if you saw it. It\u2019s called Pop Myer\u2019s. Finding the fabric and being measured is more fun than the candy store.”<\/p>\n
“How much did they cost?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou pick out the cloth and he makes you a pair of pants for five dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
“Five dollars? How can you beat that? Men came from all parts of the Bronx to mine into his mammoth mound of twine-tied remnants.<\/p>\n
The following day, Irv, Alvin and I walked across Crotona Park to Crotona Avenue. We crossed Tremont Avenue then came to Pop’s tiny store. Upon opening the door, you hurdled, stepped on, or knocked over tightly wound remnants in order to locate the bundle of your choice. Five dollars was the price for Pop\u2019s pants regardless of the fabric selected. You carried the bundle to Pop to learn whether there was enough fabric for Pop to create a custom-made pair of pants.<\/p>\n
With a cigarette seemingly Krazy-glued to his lower lip, he could be found at the rear of the store bent over a humming sewing machine illuminated by a single light bulb. This was the legendary Pop Myer.<\/p>\n
\u201cPop,\u201d Alvin said, \u201c he needs a pair of pants.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, tell him what to do. I\u2019m busy.\u201d<\/p>\n
As I began quarrying for a navy blue fabric, I heard Alvin yell,\u00a0\u201cIwo Jima positions, take!\u201d<\/p>\n
He ran up a huge pile of remnants near the window pretending it was Mount Surabachi on Iwo Jima. He planted Pop\u2019s yardstick into the peak (the American flag), and he saluted.<\/p>\n
As if it was rehearsed specifically for this occasion, a flow of searing expletives \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0hitched a ride on Pop\u2019s saliva.<\/p>\n
\u201cSon of a bitch! Bestid, Mahmzer<\/em>!\u201d and some foreign curses ricocheted off the lonely bulb dangling in front of him. \u00a0Finally, I found a navy-blue remnant.<\/p>\n \u201cI need them today, Pop.\u201d<\/p>\n With a mouth dry from lubricating the profanity he had just spewed, he rasped,<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you think? I\u2019m a machine? OK, in a half-hour you\u2019ll come.\u201d<\/p>\n He removed the twisted, wrinkled, yellow cloth tape from around his neck, measured my inseam and waist then sent us away.<\/p>\n We returned in thirty minutes.<\/p>\n \u201cDey\u2019re done, but dey\u2019re not pressed,\u201d said Pop. In ten minutes you\u2019ll, come back.\u201d<\/p>\n We returned in ten minutes. Upon opening the door Alvin and Irv shouted,<\/p>\n \u201cPress the blues! Press the blues!\u201d<\/p>\n With a throat dry from his glossary of obsceeiies, Pop shouted,<\/p>\n \u201cDrop dead. Dey\u2019re pressed!\u201d<\/p>\n I carried the blues home, still warm from Pop\u2019s steam iron. Any wrinkles they developed in transit became a permanent feature of the pants.<\/p>\n As the days of bussing tables at the Central Hotel passed, a congealed veneer of the Central Hotel\u2019s cuisine oozing from my clients plates and mouths coated my navy-blues. By summer\u2019s end the pants chronicled a sample of nearly every meal I bussed at the Hotel. They joined the leftovers from the last meal of the season \u2014 in the garbage pail.<\/p>\n Edited from\u00a0Seabury Place: A Bronx Memoir<\/em> by Daniel Wolfe<\/p>\n danielwolfebooks@aol.com<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was a store whose ambiance and irascible tenant could never be replicated. There never will, and cannot ever be another Pop Myer\u2019s. His tiny store stood on the northwest side of Crotona Avenue just off Tremont in the Bronx. Overwhelmed by its prosperous commercial neighbors on Tremont Avenue, it seemed to have dissolved into… Continue reading Pop Myer’s<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[3,61,60,62],"class_list":["post-137","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-bronx","tag-crotona-avenue","tag-pop-meyer-pants","tag-tremont-avenue","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=137"}],"version-history":[{"count":21,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2397,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions\/2397"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=137"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=137"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.danielwolfebooks.com\/danielsblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=137"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}