Greenpoint
Cafe Cito Bogota
What To Do In Ridgewood
Filed under: Area 51
Yesterday the Mister and I planned to take photographs. I wanted to go to Bed-Stuy, he wanted to go somewhere “different”. In the spirit of compromise (and ever since I got married I have been nothing but compromised) I made a proposition:
Let’s go to Ridgewood and Bushwick.
And that is exactly where we went. Over eight years have elapsed since I have set foot in Ridgewood. I looked at an apartment there. It was very nice— perhaps a little too nice. $1,200 a month rent for such a beautiful and large apartment was indeed VERY tempting, but I couldn’t shake the feeling this neighborhood was simply not for me and I elected to live in Greenpoint instead.
Today, February 11, 2008, with eight plus years of experience under my belt I can tell you, dear readers, why I didn’t move to Ridgewood: it is boring. Really boring. Sure there is nifty architecture and a certain Archie Bunker-esque appeal to the place, but the endless chain stores and shitty food (How can someone fuck up a grilled cheese sandwich? If your inquiring mind wants to know, go to the diner at Seneca Avenue and Woodbine Street and find out!) left me wanting.
Thankfully I found ample entertainment at the intersection of Gates and Seneca Avenue: let’s look at the barbecued minivan!
Why not watch other people savor the sight (and toxic aroma) of this carcass of excess as well!
This must have been some conflagration.
It even blew out the window of the local check cashing establishment. Wow.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Oakland Street
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Any and all Greenpointers who want to see a remnant of pre-Robert Moses Garden Spot glory should check out the southwestern intersection of McGuinness Boulevard and Nassau Avenue.
When you reach the Polskie Deli, you need not do anything more than look up. Before McGuinness Boulevard (in all its resplendent glory) came into being, it was a humble street called Oakland.
I have spent much time researching the thoroughfare that was Oakland. Most of what I found involved bar room brawls of one sort or another. But after Mr. Heather and I (working as a team) managed to kill our keyboard with bourbon Friday night (clearly that candy-ass piece of crap couldn’t hold its liquor), I decided this tome from the April 15, 1886 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle was the finest. Enjoy!
Lesson #1: Don’t pick a fight with a prizefighter.
Lesson #2: Especially if you happen to be three sheets to the wind.
You don’t tug on Superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t tug on the mask of the lone ranger and you don’t mess around with
JimWilly Dacoy.
Miss Heather
Intimation of Gentrification: Troutman Street
Filed under: Bushwick
Living in north Brooklyn I am often confronted with the question as to what constitutes gentrification. More specifically, I ask myself exactly what are the warning signs a neighborhood is poised to shed its rags and earn the kind of respect afforded to localities brandishing bratty babes that publicly piss on trees? It is an excellent question. And I think I found the answer on Troutman Street.
You know your neighborhood is well on its way to becoming an affluenzic breeder Valhalla when the local tagger’s nom de guerre is a childhood behavioral disorder.
Miss Heather
P.S.: I wonder where “Chronic Bed Wetter” bombs the ‘hood? I suppose I should just follow my nose.
Bed-Stuy Photo du Jour: Lafayette Street
Filed under: Bed-Stuy
Last week I shared with you, dear readers, what is in my opinion one of the ugliest and most oppressive “homes” I have ever seen. How the neighbors of this eyesore cope with having to look at this depressing monolith every day is beyond me. But I have a creeping suspicion they might be getting a little help from upstairs.
Or would that be downstairs and down the block? In any case it just goes to show how amazingly convenient a place New York City is. Anything a person could possibly desire can be delivered right to his (or her) doorstep: furniture, groceries and— as the numerous shopping carts in the above photograph attest— souls.
Hallelujah!
Miss Heather
Crosstown Local Cavalcade Volume V: Politics
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
My grandmother always told me there were two things that one never, ever discussed at a party:
- Religion
- Politics
I wholeheartedly agree, especially in regards to the latter. Some people enjoy nothing more than listening to pundits talk District of Columbia shop. If political intrigue was not popular (with a certain set of people, mind you) I doubt there would be so many blogs, web sites and print publications dedicated to the subject. However, when I encounter such subject matter existentialist boredom inevitably follows.
Unless of course it is written on subway posters advertising the movie Rambo. That’s another matter altogether.
While waiting for the Crosstown Local on the Smith – 9th Street platform, I am reminded that the age of Imperialism is, indeed, over.
And the Queens bound platform at Nassau Avenue raises awareness about how the shadow under John Rambo’s nose makes him look like a rather (in)famous 20th century world leader. Cover up the right hand side of his face and see for yourself: the resemblance is uncanny.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photo du Jour: McGuinness Boulevard
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
I cannot believe with as many times as I have walked by this mural (on McGuinness Boulevard just north of the BQE) I never noticed that this seemingly cute little bunny was a headhunter. Or maybe he (?) is the Cthulhu bunny and instead of candy this playful little scamp leaves shrunken heads in the baskets of unwitting children? Given the way some children behave nowadays, I can only hope so.
This horrific little hare is yet more proof that the neighborhood we call Greenpoint yields its treasure in the most unexpected of places: in plain sight.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Kingsland Avenue
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
One thing I love about Brooklyn is each neighborhood has its own unique take on what constitutes a cozy and inviting home. For example:
In Bushwick polychromatic statuary is the way to go.
Bedford-Stuyvesant prefers to festoon their fences with flamingos.
And in Greenpoint nothing says “welcome home” like a Jason mask standing watch over your stoop. Yes sir, we Greenpointers love us some homicidal maniacs! Fake flowers, cutesy woodland creatures and colorful plumage are for wimps.
In fact, we like Jason much we are not content with him merely gracing our homes, we also take him on the road! So much for Jesus. Any Greenpointer worth his (or her) salt knows the son of god cannot protect you from the utter lunacy that is the Greenpoint motorist. In the Garden Spot Jason is our co-pilot.
Miss Heather
Bushwick Photo du Jour: Greene Avenue
Filed under: Bushwick
Anyone who has experienced elementary school English knows there is something seriously wrong with this sign: Peper Bros Isn’t. Nothing breaks my heart more than sloppy grammar.
Miss Heather
The Bicycles of Bedford-Stuyvesant
Filed under: Bed-Stuy
Anyone who has lived in New York City for any appreciable period of time can attest that bicycle theft is a serious problem. Stealing and reselling bikes is a cottage industry in Greenpoint, and there has yet to be an anti-theft device invented by man that will deter would-be thieves from filching any and all ten speeds that tickle their fancy.
As morally repugnant as their choice of profession may be, I really have to hand it to these folks: the inventiveness and tenacity they employ is downright admirable. If this energy and brain power was properly harnessed, these petty criminals would be world leaders and Nobel prize winners. But they aren’t and so the age old question goes: how can we ultimately stop bike theft? I suppose only time will tell, but I suspect the people of Bed-Stuy may very well have found the answer: build a better bicycle.
This three wheeler hails from Lewis Avenue. I do not know how the owner managed to secure it to the light pole, but I imagine anyone trying to remove it will get a concussion or a broken arm as a reward for his efforts.
Of course invoking grievous bodily harm may not be everyone’s cup of tea. In which case confusion will probably suffice. “So this would-be thief wants some wheels?” this denizen of Bed-Stuy asked himself. Well, why not give them to him? A LOT OF WHEELS: bicycle wheels, wheel chairs, and the like will keep your klepto busy disentangling his new prize until the police show up.
Brilliant. Simply brilliant. But I have come to expect as much from my friends in this much-maligned and underrated neighborhood.
Bravo, Bed-Stuy! Bravo!
Miss Heather
Bushwick Photo du Jour: Troutman Street
Filed under: Bushwick
A long time ago I was a real estate agent. During my brief sojourn into this hellish career decision I became acquainted with a certain type of client: the person who simply must live in a building with a doorman. Mind you, I have nothing whatsoever against doormen. Most are very nice chaps. What I do not like, however, is the kind of person who feels he or she must be waited on hand and foot. And I learned yesterday I am not the only person who bears this sentiment.
If any of you are shopping for an apartment in doorman building in Bushwick, don’t waste your time with 287 Troutman Street.
And yes that means U.
Miss Heather
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