Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
As some of you may remember, earlier this month I wrote about 100 Freeman Street receiving a ticket for having excessive debris on their sidewalk. Well, it would appear that bottle(s), cigarette pack, newspaper(s) and over-grown tree pits are not the only things you’ll find strewn there. “Local” writes:
Though you’d recently been unimpressed with the trash left outside 100 Freeman St. — any resident or neighbor can assure you that building’s so-called maintenance earns whatever fines it gets — here’s what one could find left out on the curb there Saturday.
Romeo and Pukiet were spotted around 8 am, lying in puddles of their own puke, undisturbed by a steady rain and later by a police siren. Finally the cops got them up and they trudged arm in arm toward Manhattan Ave., when Pukiet stopped to dirty up the block once more (her man, no doubt a fantastic date) continued walking.
Ironically enough, I spent a considerable amount of time talking to the Co-Pastor of the Greenpoint Reformed Church last night. She wanted my take on what social problems her organization should target. Drug abuse (heroin) and alcoholism were discussed. I told her long-term residents were not the only ones afflicted; I have seen 20-somethings nodding off on my block numerous times. It is a very, very disturbing sight. Most people ignore such “trash” in the hopes it’ll go away. It doesn’t.
Such is the “hip neighborhood” that is Greenpoint, folks. When you move to New York Shitty’s next luxury Condoland be sure not to share needles or asphyxiate in your own vomit!
I honestly don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.
P.S.: I was also furnished with a photo of this woman vomiting but have elected not to post it. It is pretty clear she has enough problems already.
Located adjacent to Greenpoint’s very own sewage treatment plant (at Provost Street and Paidge Avenue), here it is! Those of you who are interested in checking it out firsthand will be able to do so at the official opening September 29 from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. More details about my Newtown Creek experience to come, I’m pooped!
P.S.: Those of you who want a sneak peek at the less savory aspects of Newtown Creek (which are forthcoming) check out the set of photos I have started assembling on Flickr.
First off, I’d like to thank my fellow Greenpointer(s) and 11222-er for getting the word out about yesterday’s fund raiser at the library. While I’ll never know for certain if we helped with the tremendous turnout I beheld, I did overhear an employee say that it went much better than expected.
After leaving, Lisa Vallez and I bantered while strolling along Nassau Avenue. At Guernsey Street we parted ways; she to continue her trek to BARC, me to make a long-anticipated (and very needed) journey home. Rounding the corner I heard the ping-pang of hammers. A veritable anvil chorus of elves were feverishly engaged in constructing (yet) another non-contextual Post Modernist building with ginormous balconies..
Sure, you don’t see any men at work in the above photo. You didn’t have to. The noise they were making (and this includes copious amounts of profanity) could be heard distinctly down the block. Even I was impressed with their mastery of the latter. I took notes.
Come on in, sit a spell!
Variance permits are pretty easy to spot. They look like this. Click on the above image and see if can find one.
A reader of New York Shitty, Astral resident and all-around very nice woman, Rowan, gave me her take on the bedbuggery going down there. She writes:
Personally, I haven’t experienced the bedbug problem (knock on wood!), but I also haven’t been living there that long – only since March 2007. I do see furniture and mattresses that are left out front with warnings about bug infestations, usually in front of 74, but that’s something you probably see, too.
This evening as I was walking to Casa Mon Amour something in front of the 74 India Street entrance of the Astral caught my eye
I honestly didn’t know bedbugs could (or would care to) infest such an item. What a pain in the ass (pun intended). Obviously I need to read Bedbuggers more thoroughly— and often.
As should the person who saw fit to rummage through these bags of clothing placed precariously (and tellingly) close to the above-infested chair.
What’s that burning sensation you’re feeling down there? It’s Greenpoint!
P.S.: I’d like to give the fine folks at Bedbugger a hearty helping of thanks on behalf of a good friend of mine who just discovered she has some unwanted roommates. She really enjoyed reading your site— she only wishes she didn’t have to. Nothing personal.
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
As an old(er)-school Greenpointer, I try to refrain from grousing about the recent wave of 20-somethings moving here. Sure many of them are aggravating— but who wasn’t when he (or she) was that age? Seriously. Occasionally the ingenuity some of my newer neighbors possess even impresses me. Like today.
I found this flyer at Greenpoint Avenue and Franklin Street. Any Greenpointer worth his (or her) salt will tell you this intersection (located in one of the most “vice” ridden ‘nabes in this fine Boro of Kings) is a popular venue for the al fresco consumption of alcoholic beverages.
The above photo (taken exactly a week ago at the previously-mentioned intersection) bears witness to the formidable marketing savvy of the folks at 107 Green Street. Note the party ball. A few hours after it was taken a wino seated himself in the red chair and endeavored to open a brand-spanking new fifth of vodka. The beer might have been gone, but this gent made good and damned sure the party went on! Beer is for south Brooklyn brownstone-dwelling pussies. Greenpoint keeps it real:
Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker!
But back to the most brilliant young capitalists I have ever met.
Unlike many advertisements that seem too good to be true, this one wasn’t.
To the residents of 107 Green Street:
I salute you. It is innovating thinking such as yours that makes America great. I am proud to have you as a neighbor.
UPDATE: I learned from the proprietress of Casa Mon Amour this evening that this Bloody Mary stand was the talk of Franklin Street. Apparently a dissatisfied quaffer complained to her that they were “cheap”. I am no Amy Vanderbilt; but I was always taught that free booze shouldn’t be dissed. To do otherwise is to breach proper Garden Spot etiquette.
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Although I will be at work during most of the festivities, here is the itinerary I received from the co-presidents of Friends of the Greenpoint Library:
The event will begin at 11:00 a.m. Judging will be from 12:30-1:30 pm… We will be taking down names of potential buyers (3 per work) from 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Starting at 2:00 p.m. the actual sale will take place. If the first person on the list is not present, the second person on the list will have the opportunity to buy and so on.
They also need volunteers to lend a hand with the following:
Installation and set-up: 10:00 a.m. -11:00 a.m.
Refreshments table: 11:00 a.m. -2:30 p.m.
Distribution of art to buyers: 2:00 p.m. -2:30 p.m.
Break-down/clean-up: 3:00 p.m. -3:30p.m.
$25.00 is a very small price to pay for not only a work of art, but to help our local library. Besides, who wouldn’t want this hanging on his or her wall? The woman who took my contribution recognized the dude on the couch immediately; he was sleeping on her stoop that morning.
I got a chuckle out of this skewed fire hydrant on Guernsey Street last night. If I had a dollar for every piece of property I have seen that was mowed down or jacked-up by the shitty drivers here,* I’d be a very wealthy woman.
Shouldn’t these things have water in them or something? Filling fire hydrants with petroleum strikes me as being counter-productive. Then again, this IS Greenpoint.
*If you’re wondering, my favorite to date was the clock in front of the Garden. Remember that? It was up-ended by a truck and the driver elected to take it with him.
I have decided a new project is in order: determining which block in Greenpoint has the most houses sheathed in vinyl siding. Given the scope and seriousness of this project I need help from you, dear readers. Those of you who want to nominate a block*, please shoot me an email at missheather (at) newyorkshitty (dot) com.
You immediate attention to this matter is greatly appreciated.
*I also want to make it clear that any tips about new stuff going on in The Garden Spot (especially art openings and other cultural events) are greatly appreciated. I like giving other artists a little exposure— but please give me as much advance notice as possible. I can be forgetful at times.
I have cornered “The Worst Buildings of NYC” flickr pool as of the writing of this post. Leonard Lopate had no idea what Pandora’s box he opened when he (or more likely, his staff) solicited photographs of ugly buildings. “You want ugly?” I thought to myself.
I’ll show you ugly!
This was no idle threat: it was a promise. One I am still endeavoring to complete.
The Garden Spot is filled with
eyesores development. Real estate shills like to call it gentrification. I call it horse shit.
This is 37 North Henry Street. It is also one of the ugliest pieces of pre-fab
shit progress I have ever seen.
Wednesday evening I spoke with a “student” from Columbia University*. He wanted to hear my take on the upcoming Greenpoint Library fund raiser and local “art community”. One of his questions was:
Describe your history as an artist. Is it your profession? Do you make stuff just (for) yourself, family and friends?
Questions like the previous make me stop and take a deep breath. Inasmuch as I like helping students with their projects (and believe you me I felt like the subject of an experiment: gentrification vivisection), his choice of words pissed me off.
I am a third generation artist. My mother is a painter; her aunt (my great aunt) was a painter. She’s dead now— my great aunt that is. Both were/are college-educated in this craft. I am not a painter, though I got my BFA is in painting. Magna cum laude, no less. I received my MFA in Sculpture at Parsons School of Design.
I do not make stuff for myself, family and friends. Well, I make stuff for myself sometimes— but I have no interest in galleries whatsoever (they’re no different than temp agencies, real estate brokers or pimps in my book). I am more interested in forcing people to think. And I do— usually without even trying. Which brings me back to above-mentioned turd.
As a sculptress (and Notary Public!) I do not profess to know the vagaries of architecture (or FAR), but I do have a grasp of design principles and three dimensional reasoning. The architect responsible for 37 North Henry clearly does not.
Describe your history as an architect Anthony Cucich? Is it your profession? Do you make
FeddersFriedrich Specials for yourself, family and friends? Inquiring minds want to know!
In any case, your craptacular building (located just off the BQE) also offers scenic views of the Kosciuszko Bridge and auto emissions for one’s olfactory pleasure! Only two units left folks, move right in! To repeat myself, this “builders closeout” is one of the aesthetically unappealing
pieces of shit buildings I have seen erected in Greenpoint. Ever. This is no small accomplishment.
*The same guy who wrote this. A week after I posted this. The only good thing about this situation I can think of is at least the de Give got a nice chunk of publicity. Otherwise, I’m glad to see a newbie journo (whose cell phone number is from Minnesota) is doing his homework, e.g.; trolling blogs and tendering his findings to The Brooklyn Paper.
Describe your history as an newspaper? Is it your profession? Or do you just crib from local yokels (and that is clearly what you thought I was) for yourself, family and friends?
If the opportunity afforded itself, I’d use The Brooklyn Paper as stationery. I would pretend to be a journalist and my asshole would be the pen (not unlike most of the people employed at the previously-mentioned periodical). But alas, the inferior quality of this paper irritates my rectum.
I line my cat boxes and junk folder with ‘em instead. Although I never signed up for it, I get Brooklyn Paper spam regularly nowadays. Thank you for wasting my time, memory and intelligence.
Filed under: Area 51
Those of you who are interested in reading the EPA’s confirmation of what most us already knew click here.
P.S.: As it would happen, I will be taking a boat tour of Newton Creek this very weekend! I wonder if I’ll see any oil?