Culture on the Cheap
Spreadin’ The Love: Greenpoint Style
I happened upon this missive (which is scrawled on the side of a warehouse in Williamsburg) while walking home from what was, in my humble opinion, THE BEST FRANK SINATRA BLOCK PARTY KNOWN TO MANKIND. Spreading the love.
While not as “touchy feely” as our friends to the south, Greenpoint does indeed sport its own special brand of “love”. And like so much sewage discharged into Newtown Creek on a rainy day, Greenpoint’s cup of love for our fellow man overflowth. Usually with a little assistance from paint pen or can of spray paint.
Who do we Greenpointers love, you ask? Damned near everyone. With a few notable exceptions of course.
We don’t love the police, for starters.
That goes double if they happen to hail from Queens. We really don’t like them.
“Polocks”? Don’t like ’em.
“John” isn’t too popular either.
If you happen to be Hispanic, wealthy and gay, Greenpoint is not the place to be. Wait, scratch that. We like them. Sorry about that— it’s getting hard to keep track of all this Greenpoint “love” I am experiencing.
It’s nothing personal, mind you.
Some people are just assholes.
In all seriousness folks, life is hard enough as is. Taking the time to write racist, sexist and homophobic remarks— even seemingly funny ones— on public property does not help matters. If I had one thing to say to these people it would be this:
Why not try being nice to people for a change?
Not only does this cost not so much as a dime, but everyone benefits.