When we got back from our Thanksgiving Holiday, the first thing we heard – before we even got through the door of the hotel actually – was an outpouring of resident appreciation for Chris Shott’s Observer article about the Chelsea’s supposed manager, 26 year old Glennon Travis.
Certainly it is a must read for anyone interested in understanding what’s going on at the Chelsea. One 
important thing that Shott points out is the perception that Glennon shows favoritism toward transients at the expense of permanent residents. Though this formulation oversimplifies the problem, as Glennon is actually nasty to transients whenever they express an interest in the history of the hotel, it points out BD Hotels ultimate goal: to rid itself of all permanent tenants as it converts the Chelsea to an exclusively transient hotel. They are using Glennon to alienate us so we’ll get sick of his bullshit and move out. (Photo: Richard Born and Glennon Travis)
It’s actually a master stroke of harassment on BD’s part, because, even without his abrasive personality, someone like Glennon is almost completely incomprehensible to any sort of creative person. Though I’m not generally one to brag, when I was 26 I was sitting at a table in a cheap rooming house, chain smoking cigarettes and banging away on an old typewriter as I drank myself into a stupor. For someone to squander his youth in the way that Glennon is doing – dressing in suits and writing memos – is to me a tragedy of unexampled proportions.
Glennon says to watch for the good stuff coming up. Though he is clueless in this regard, here’s what will most likely happen: In time, BD will hang Glennon out to dry, and then they will trot out a new, marginally more appropriate manager to “save” the Chelsea. Yippeee! And I’m sure there will even be a few people stupid enough to believe the hype.
On a positive note maybe this will be a wake-up call for Glennon, and he’ll take to the bottle – or alternately the needle – and with any luck be able to salvage what’s left of his misspent youth.
Oh, by the way, I’m pleased to note that Living with Legends is a now officially a “gossip site” we should get even more traffic now! — Ed Hamilton
Living with Legends
Hotel Chelsea Blog
8 responses to “Bizarro Baby Dictator: The Misspent Youth of Glennon Travis”
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Oh my,. Have you ever seen two such dull looking people? And where did they pick up their seemingly shared sense of fashion, The White Plains Register circa 1954? It’s not even good retro. Did they buy their matching dull blue shirts together? They are the King and Peon respectively of Dullsville. We are sad.
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Is it just me or does Richard Born have a really pained look on his face. It must go with the territory when you stand that close to Glennon.
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BD Hotels will kick GT out the door like an old shoe as soon as he finishes doing their dirty work.
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It make me sick just to see them in a photograph, let alone to see Glennon around the hotel. They could not look any less Hotel Chelsea like. Neither man looks comfortable in this photo.
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Oh My God. They look like insurance salesmen.
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i think they look like irs agents.
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Yeah,like irs agents, at a big irs party. these two are the two who really rip loose at a party. as you can see in this photograph. Neither is comfortable without a tie knotted tight at the neck, but after one more fashionable scotch, of an obscure brand they read about in GQ and ever after ordered, they were able to take off their ties and be semi-relaxed with it. Semi-relaxed may be an overstatement. More likely, they were able to remove their ties and not succumb to total and immediate panic. From what we see here, it probably took a few more GQ-endorsed scotches to feel semi relaxed sans cravatte. Note the pained smile of Richard Born.
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Hippy dippy’s offspring = Glennon. Give the twit a break- He is nothing more than the product of a misspent generation’s misspending. Have you bothered leaving your rooms to walk through the neighborhood lately? The Dunkin Donuts is queued by tennis racquet totters and soap-salesmen cementers. Or are you still drunk in front of your typewriter. SO COOL YOU ARE- drunk in front of a typewriter. The Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Generation is what you managed to produce. AND Glennon is just one of your many. Glennon and a population of jackass-always jack-phoned-in consortium who don’t have a clue ’cause you never taught them that there’s a difference between Pharell and Phaedrus. As far as I can see- this whole witch-hunt-finger-point is as inept as the generation’s chrestomathy composed by your word-tinklers I see hyperlinked on the right. –ok, minus the contribution of the wise Terry Southern. He was great.
Consider alt-f’ing yourselves on your latest laptop typewriters for such predictably uninspired baa-baa-shear-your-sheep behavior.LikeLike
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