Makes Hagstrom Mapmakers Squirm

Maybe they should just rename it “Columbia”:

As Columbia University seeks to expand, there is almost as much debate about what to call its target neighborhood — bounded by 125th and 135th Sts., Broadway and Riverside Drive — as there is about the project itself.

Is it Manhattanville, as Columbia contends, or West Harlem?

“It’s an odd sort of a quibble,” said Eric Washington, author of “Manhattanville: Old Heart of West Harlem.”

Either That Or We Bring Back Whoopi For Sister Act 3 (Is There Some Way To Get Margaret Cho On Board . . . Is Margaret Cho Chinese?)

If it were a movie pitch you might say it was Stand and Deliver meets The Joy Luck Club meets Animal House:

Workers at Church of the Transfigur­ation on Mott St. see their greatest success in children of immigrants, who often were born in the United States and stand with one foot in their Chinese past and another in their American future. The church’s Sunday school classes teach the Catholic faith to area children, and some non-Catholic parents see it as a chance for free babysitting, said Sister MaryAnn Scherr, a nun overseeing religious education at the church.

. . .

Every Sunday morning, Scherr and her team of religious educators teach Catholic catechism to parish children. It is a task fraught with complexities, as often these children know very little about Christianity.

“When people come to us, they often come with no religion at all,” Scherr said. “Some of the parents don’t see the value of the religion program.”

Down one flight of stairs from John Hum’s class, Jennifer Yau teaches first graders about books of the Bible, and routinely struggles with non-attentive students.

“This is boring,” said James, a tiny six-year-old boy with an untucked collared shirt, one leg up on his chair, the other dangling above the floor. “I don’t know it.”

“There is no, ‘I don’t know.’ That’s not an option,” said Yau, visibly at wits’ end. “I’m trying to teach you guys something and you’re not really paying attention, so I’d appreciate it if you would.”

. . .

Overall, progress is being made, Scherr said.

“We can have as many as 30 people we baptize each year,” she said. “Many are men.

“We try not to be people who just work to get certificates,” Scherr said. Too often, she says, immigrants believe their participation in church activities will guarantee them citizenship, or at least a green card.

“If they want to really be baptized, then we work with that,” Sherr said. “It’s not completely our job to doubt sincerity.”

As Chinese immigrants come into the city, they bring with them their own ideas and customs. In the Chinese province of Fujian, where most of Chinatown’s newest residents emigrate from, it is perfectly O.K. for someone to spit on the floor, even when inside, since most floors there are dirt, Scherr said. The church staff has tried to limit spitting and educate immigrants on American social conventions.

Anna Wintour Eagerly Anticipates Opportunity To Out-Preserve Woody Allen*

Is the Landmarks Preservation Commission really swayed by a letter from Anna Wintour or Jeff Koons? God, I hope not:

Developer Aby Rosen is beseeching his rich and famous pals to write to a key city panel in support of his controversial bid to build a 30-story tower on the Upper East Side.

Vogue editor Anna Wintour was among the glitterati to respond to Rosen’s call to arms, a form letter that asked some of the wealthiest New Yorkers to show their stripes for the redevelopment of 980 Madison Ave. at 76th Street.

Rosen and architect Lord Norman Foster have pitted themselves against many of the area’s well-heeled residents, who don’t want the 355-foot elliptical glass tower to be added to the Parke-Bernet Galleries.

The residential tower would forever alter the area’s skyline by matching the height of the nearby Carlyle Hotel.

The Landmarks Preservation Council, which has the final say, received hundreds of submissions before today’s 5 p.m. deadline.

The proposal has caused so much controversy that after 150 people turned up a public meeting to testify, the deadline for submissions was extended twice.

While the majority of submissions have called for the council to ax the tower, which is much taller than most buildings in the neighborhood, Rosen has banded together a gaggle of famous supporters.

Wintour, artist Jeff Koons, Betsy Bloomingdale, businessman Ron Perelman and celebrity doctor Patricia Wexler, along with several millionaires, artists and collectors, are among those who have declared themselves in the Rosen camp.

*See, for example.

Ladies And Gentlemen, Please Give A Warm Round Of Applause For Haftorah Reader Jack Benny!

But it’s still unclear whether even the performance will have enough for a minyan:

Impressive, those names in the sanctuary of the little synagogue on West 47th Street in Manhattan: Joe E. Lewis and Sophie Tucker on the stained-glass windows, Jack Benny on a plaque in the rear. The names tell you why, in its golden age, this synagogue became known as the Actors’ Temple. They also tell you something about when that golden age was.

Recently — say, oh, during the last half-century — this temple, with a declining membership and a vanishing budget, has not been doing so well. So starting with an official opening night tomorrow, the Actors’ Temple, for the first time in its 89-year history, will be moonlighting as an Off Broadway theater.

. . .

The temple was a tough sell, with restrictions over and above the usual constraints of a small theater. Sets need to be flexible enough so they don’t interfere with services; food taken into the temple must be kosher; and shows must go dark on Friday evenings and Saturday mornings. (The Saturday matinee is a sore point at the temple, but sometimes you’ve got to give an inch.) Holidays are booked, too, of course.

“You can’t move Yom Kippur because you have a show on,” Mr. Kifferstein said.

Board members talked with the producers of “A Jew Grows in Brooklyn,” a nostalgic comedy that seemed like just the thing, but negotiations broke down, and that show went to the 37 Arts, an Off Broadway theater on West 37th Street.

Maybe Congestion Pricing Will Help

The psychological principle of hating in others what you most see in yourself, writ Sunday Styles:

For status-conscious New Yorkers, Saturday has become synonymous with hordes of pleasure dilettantes wearing gelled hairstyles and quaffing Red Bull, creating hourlong lines at clubs that city dwellers may line up for on Thursday or even Monday, but will not get within five stretch-Hummer lengths from on Saturday. Instead, Netflix and Vietnamese takeout sounds good, or maybe that new Bond movie. It’s a night that people accustomed to quoting Andy Warhol or Diddy may summarize by invoking another New York luminary: Yogi Berra, who said, “Nobody goes there anymore, it’s too crowded.”

. . .

Of course, the Saturday-shy New Yorkers who do go out on the town that night often do so with reservation — and reservations.

Last Saturday, four Manhattanites in their early 30s were huddling over a low table downstairs at Buddakan, the cavernous pan-Asian restaurant in the meatpacking district. “During the weekends, you get a lot of clutter, if you will,” said Brian Kirimdar, 30, an investment banker. He and his wife, Ashley, tend to hide out in restaurants on Saturdays, avoiding all but a few of the Chelsea clubs. “You don’t find too many bridge-and-tunnel people at Cielo or Marquee,” he said. “You really have to pick and choose.”

Indeed, it is no accident that clubs like Marquee, its upstairs V.I.P. room packed with models even on Saturdays, and Stereo, known for its Nikes-only sneaker policy, are more outsider proof.

“No cologne, earrings or hair gel,” said Michael Satsky, an owner of Stereo, standing outside the velvet rope of his club on West 29th Street around 1 a.m., explaining his weekend door policy.