In Obit, Matt Katz rues the death of idle time, and Matt Flegenheimer reports on the closing of NYC restaurant Gino’s, a place that stayed “frozen in the ’40s”:

Gino’s eldest loyalists have lived through crippling wars, sea-changing revolutions, 12 presidential administrations — every verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire” by Billy Joel, whom they’ve never heard of. At Gino’s, the most noticeable timestamps were the modest price hikes, marked by thick scribbles atop the old rates on Circiello’s original, handwritten menus.

“What we’re losing is a touch of that time,” longtime regular Gay Talese said from beneath his gray fedora on the last night.

Meanwhile, the blog Lost City–”A running Jeremiad on the vestiges of Old New York as they are steamrolled under or threatened by the currently ruthless real estate market and the City Fathers’ disregard for Gotham’s historical and cultural fabric”–has called it a day, with a depressingly honest post titled (what else?) “Goodbye To All That.” “I’m tired and discouraged, and I don’t relish hanging around just to record the last few living landmarks as they fall in this barren forest, making no sound that the City Fathers can hear,” wrote blogger Brooks of Sheffield. “Nor do I much enjoy scouring the street looking for vestiges of the city I loved, vestiges that are harder and harder to find.” Still, “As a writer, [Lost New York is] the purest and most idealistic thing I’ve ever done.”

Well! How about some old photos of Coney Island sunbathers, by Magnum photographer Bruce Gilden?