Tonight I though I would polish off Christmas 2008 with a couple of photographs courtesy a la the Mister (from right here in Greenpoint!) and one of the most obnoxious display of holiday spirit I have ever seen. It hails from North 6th Street and well, seeing (and listening) is believing.
Wouldn’t you love to be this person’s neighbor? I for one prefer this more subdued but curiously rave-like Hannukah set up on Franklin Street.
By Mister Heather.*
*Who was, I shit you not, asked by the local constabulary what he was doing as he took the above photograph of our sludge tank.
It wasn’t until we looked at this photograph (taken by Mr. Heather) later that we realized he had caught a plane piercing the one of the ghost towers. Weird.
From Franklin Street.
Photo Credit: scoker3
Last night the Mister arrived home with a great big bag with “Camera Land” emblazoned on it. Its contents were easy enough to deduce: a brand new digital camera. Last night he put this new toy to good use by taking some killer photographs of fireworks. Great shot!
Yesterday we learned that there is a minuscule island in the East River dedicated to U Thant, the third Secretary General of the United Nations. Today, dear readers I wish to share with you whose visage graces the northern-most end of Governor’s Island.
The above mural reads “To The Struggle Against World Terrorism”. I’m not too sure who the gent to the left is, but the one to right was easy enough to identify.
Granted, the above image sucks (Mr. Heather has my old camera, which has seen much better days) but one can nonetheless discern who this chap is. It is none other than our fearless leader: George W. Bush. And he is keeping a taciturn eye on lower Manhattan.
I recently discovered a really neat old building at 866 DeKalb Avenue.
It used to be the home of Crystal Steam Laundry. Fred K. Weis was its proprietor.
At this advertisement from the November 19, 1902 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle indicates, they charged a mere 5 cents per pound of laundry. What a deal!
Here’s a detail of 866 Dekalb’s new neighbor. Is that a Fedder’s box I see?
No, make that FOUR Fedders boxes for four times the air conditioned FUN!
Perhaps I am reading too much into this, but who wants to patronize a gynecologist who appears to ply his trade in a disco? Just a thought.
I am constantly amazed by the photographs my husband is taking nowadays— like this gem from Bushwick Avenue. Since I scored an AIA Guide to New York City dating from 1968 Mister H has been OUT OF CONTROL.
Mr. Heather took Mr. Lindsay’s advice to heart. With a vengeance. He ventured into Bushwick this weekend and I could not stop him. I grabbed his leg (like the faithful wife I am) and exclaimed:
Mr. Heather made it back. Intact. Clad in black (which is how he left our apartment—so much for “fronting”).
I suppose the douche bag bashers were off duty Saturday?
*I’ve called my husband the aforementioned and much worse on many occasions.
Filed under: Mr. Heather's Kamera Korner
This morning I moderated the following comment regarding this post:
I understand that you are upset. So â€¦if the camera is too much for you to bear, Iâ€™ll happily accept it as a gift. Just tryinâ€™ to help a palâ€¦
Sorry Anulla, I can’t do it. Had I given my camera to you, that would mean once I bounced back from my malaise I would have to take back my old camera from Mr. Heather. Today I bounced back. What’s more, Mr. Heather took his “new” camera with him as he accompanied me on my first “walk” since being hassled by the police last week.
Wanting to make sure my husband wasn’t using his new toy to “case” houses or take salacious pictures of women changing in front of open windows, I looked at what he shot. The following (located on Herbert Street) was my favorite.
I will refrain from criticizing Mr. Heather’s composition. I have two art degrees: he doesn’t.
The same goes for the anatomical knowledge of the person who drew the above image. While lacking ears, the rather lengthy, hairless tail suggests the above animal is a rat. I always thought mice liked cheese, but we’ll let that go.
Hmm. What do labor unions erect in front of buildings that upset them? Wait. Give me a minute… I know this one…
Oh, that sweet Mr. Heather of mine!!! It takes me right back to our wedding day: after getting married at Brooklyn Municipal Hall our best man (who was a woman, our best man was a lesbian— or the other way around) took a picture of us in front a giant scab-busting rat. That was the photo we sent to our respective parents announcing our wedding.
Organized labor, my wedding day and lunch at Fernando’s afterwards…