Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
A little piece of Green Street scenery…
for all you hip urban professionals out there who cannot afford Manhattan digs. Be advised that the developer’s rendering of 110 Green Street does not do justice to the scenic views your $400,000+ will buy. So in the interest of making an informed decision, I want to share a little slice of Green Street point life I spied yesterday afternoon with you.
I shit you not, this dude was asleep (passed out?) as the pile driver (seen behind the tree in the above photo) continued its aural assault on everyone who has the misfortune of living within earshot of it. Which (from what I can tell) is pretty much anywhere within a 3-4 block radius, myself included. All you homebuyers better take note, as this dude is clearly very serious about getting first whack at this great real estate opportunity.
And oh yeah, be sure to practice safe sex while you wait! 111 Green Street is already feeling the magic, how about you?
Miss Heather
P.S.: For those of you who may wonder why I have a ‘thing’ for 110 Green, read on. Just over a week ago I told my upstairs neighbor, who I will call Yessenia a (fan-fucking-tabulous) Puerto Rican woman who has resided in my building much longer than myself, about Magic’s— uh— magic. Her question was “So how are the people here going to afford it?”
To wit I said:
They can’t. This 130 unit condominium building is (per the developer) directed towards affluent young families who cannot afford to buy in Manhattan.
Which brings me to this. I knocked around this site (albeit lackadaisically) and no mention of 110 Green was to be found. I think revitalizing ‘inner cities’ and ‘under-served communities’ is a good cause. The fly in my proverbial ointment is though Greenpoint may be ‘under-served’ it is NOT ‘inner-city’— or to use the common moniker nowadays: ‘blighted’.
The crimes committed against my (otherwise very vibrant) community are countless and I doubt the culprits (READ: Exxon-Mobil, our elected officials, et. al.) will ever be held accountable. A 130 unit ‘luxury’ condominium building on Green Street is not going to change this. Much less encourage ‘diversity’. “Yessenia” put it perfectly when she told me the following Puerto Rican proverb:
The last one at the table is the first one to eat.
Earvin “Magic” Johnson’s financing ‘urban renewal’ in Greenpoint is facilitating (to bastardize Clarence Thomas) minority removal.
Bon appetit, Magic!
Interesting Email
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
I take pride in the fact that when my readers find a pile of dog shit, they think of me. What’s more, the following email leads me to believe that public nuisances in general are becoming my calling card. Read on and you’ll see what I mean. Karolyn writes:
Hey. I’ve been lurking your site for awhile and woke up thinking about you this morning. (! —Ed. Note) Don’t be scared, it was largely due to the construction thumping that’s shaking my building a block away. I call the department of buildings nearly every day to register a complaint.
Also, my indoor cat’s developed kidney stones twice in the past 6 months and I’m wondering if you’ve had any problems with your pets. Until October, she was in perfect health and now I’m mopping up bloody drops of urine in our bathtub. The vet said it could be atmospheric (This is really disturbing, thoughts anyone? — Ed. Note) and I’m more than willing to believe it has something to do with all of this stuff going on in the neighborhood.
Happy thumping.
Karolyn
I’m going to be a bit presumptuous here and assume that Karolyn woke up (again) today with Miss Heather on her mind. At 7:20 a.m. to be exact, as that is when they decided to fire up the pile driver this morning. I feel like Charleton Heston’s character in the movie Ben Hur as I write this tome. You know, the scene where he (Ben Hur) is in steerage rowing the boat while some shirtless dude beats a drum.
What’s that I hear? Ohhhh, it is the sound of Magic telling me to speed it up. Gotta run now! Ramming speed, everybody!
Miss Heather
Rage Against the Machine
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Today was the first day of my husband’s vacation. The sun was out, there was a nice breeze and the temperature was nice and comfy. When the weather is this nice I usually open all the windows so as to air out a winter’s worth of accumulated stink from the apartment. Usually. You see, this was not really an option today because Magic Johnson’s crew saw fit to fire up ye olde pile driver at SEVEN FUCKING FORTY in the morning and commenced to merrily pound away until 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon.
Having hit my saturation point (much earlier), at 1:30 I crawled out onto the fire escape and gave Magic’s posse the one finger salute. This was (by my own admission) a pretty futile and immature gesture. However, it was a significant improvement from telling my husband that I wished we had a rifle because I could have gotten off a clear shot and take out the foreman.
Good times.
Anyhoo, I have selected a special tidbit of Greenpoint history to share with you this week. It doesn’t have anything to do with Magic Johnson, but it does involve an act of defiance in the face of a certain, crushing defeat. Without further ado, I give you this police blotter item from the August 15, 1862 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle entitled “Alleged Secessionists Arrested”:
Officer Read of the 47th precinct this morning arrested a ship carpenter named Thomas Bolan, employed at the Continental ship yard at Greenpoint in the construction of the new “Monitor”, on a charge of treason. It is alleged that the accused has been in the habit of expressing himelf rather too freely to his companions in the yard in favor of the secession cause. Among other things, it is charged that he recently said that “he hoped that Jeff Davis would succeed in annihilating the Northern Army because he (Jeff Davis) was an honest man while Lincoln was nothing but a traitor.” He was sent before Provost Marshall for examination.
Although I do not agree with Mr. Bolan’s politics, I have to admire his chutzpah. Talk about balls. Homeboy probably needed a wheelbarrow to haul those bad boys around!
Miss Heather
It’s BAAAACK!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
On April 12, I received an email from the woman responsible for filming the YouTube video of Mr. Johnson’s tool at work. She wrote:
Thanks for passing that info along. I have to admit that was one of the worst days (noise wise) thus far…I’m not sure if it could get any worse than that! I’ve hardly noticed anything since then…so maybe that’s a good thing!
Inasmuch as I hate to tell this woman “I told you so!” (because she is a very nice person), I’m gonna do it anyway.
I
TOLD
YOU
SO!
As of 9:59 a.m. this morning it went back to work. Decked out in full patriotic fettle, no less. No act— however stupid, distasteful, annoying or morally ambiguous as it may seem— is wrong if it’s backed up by the good ol’ U. S. of Fucking A.!
Just ask our president.
So when my neighbors ask “What that’s awful noise?” I tell them (with tongue firmly planted in cheek) that it is the sound of FREEDOM— and if they don’t like it they should go to Cuba or North Korea with the rest of ‘dem freedom-hating, abortion-loving, baby seal clubbing commie bastards!
Having made my point, I think I will put together a little care package for my neighbor: a six pack of beer, ear plugs and a bottle aspirin. Fuck the aspirin, make that valium!
Miss Heather
UPDATE: For shits and giggles I called my buddy at The Gowanus Lounge on his cell. When his voicemail picked up I held my cell up to my living room window (so he could enjoy the PHAT beats). Here is his (email) reply:
Before you started speaking, I thought you had a Eurohell dance track playing in the background. Boomthwash boomthwash boom thwash. Like you were calling from some club that decided to open in midafternoon. Then I realized what it was. Yipes.
And here’s my reply to his reply:
Until about ½ hour ago I had ~$10.00 to my name. Now I have $1.00. $3.00 was spent on doing laundry, the other $6.00 was spent on a 6 pack of Budweiser…
Kinky Crudite on Calyer Street
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Yesterday I saw— without argument— the strangest damned thing I have ever seen in my seven-to-eight years of living in Greenpoint. Those of you who are familiar with my ‘nabe (or the many fucked-up things I have seen here), know that this is really saying something. I did not get a photo of this item because it was loaded on the back of a moving truck with about 2-3 men in tow. They all had nonchalant expressions on their faces, which was sort of odd given the utter weirdness of the contraption they were watching over. I stood in the middle of McGuinness Boulevard gawking at it… and I seriously doubt I was the only one.
I am not even going to bother describing this thing. Instead, I have drawn a nifty little schematic of it from memory.
Given that this truck was headed towards Diamond Street (which is where this came from) it makes me wonder what kind of sick shit my fellow Greenpointers are into. I think I’d just as well not know…
Miss Heather
P.S.: Oh yeah, I’d like to offer up a heaping helping of congratulations to Jen Chung (of Gothamist) for being featured (and looking fabulous) in Wired Magazine. Way to go!
Night Smelling Committee
Filed under: 11101, 11222, 11354, Blissville, Blissville Queens, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Long Island City, Long Island City Queens, Maspeth, Maspeth Queens, Newtown Creek
A weekly feature I have inaugurated of late (albeit irregularly to date) is featuring an odd, provocative and/or strangely relevant chunk ‘o’ Greenpoint history for all to savor.
To steal a phrase from my buddy Judy McGuire, Man, oh Manishevitz do I have a fun tale of “Oy vey” before the l’oi ill’splay to share today. Oil spill or otherwise, Newtown Creek stinks… even back in 1892, when the Mayor of Brooklyn came down to inspect the stench personally. The following article is from the August 27th, 1892 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. I have taken the liberty of condensing this VERY VERBOSE article and bold-facing my favorite passages. Enjoy!
SMELLS FOR THE MAYOR
Two Newton Creek Samples Were Quite Enough
His Honor’s Brief Trip Upon the Slimy Stream With the Health Commissioner, the Corporation Counsel, Alderman Fitzgibbon and a Committee of Citizens— Relief Promised.Mayor Boody had cold and rainy weather for his visit of inspection yesterday to the much complained of factories on the shores of Newton Creek. The citizens from the Fifteenth and Seventeenth Wards who accompanied him would have been much better pleased over a heavy and sultry day. The smells would then have been at their worst, so far as the daytime is concerned, for after all it is at night that the vileness of Newton Creek odors is most apparent and oppressive. As it was Mayor Boody in a very few minutes yesterday got quite enough of creek smells and was more than satisfied long before the committee of citizens was.
The mayor, accompanied by Health Commissioner Griffin and Corporation Counsel Jenks, was driven in a carriage to Chapman’s docks at the head of Grand Street. He was met there by the committees of eastern district citizens. The only other representative of the city govenment was Alderman Fitzgibbon, who accompanied the Seventeenth Ward delegation and whose home is within the district invaded by the noxious smells…
Alderman Fitzgibbon and other members of the party welcomed the mayor, health commissioner and the corporation counsel and escorted them to the steam propeller Mascot. It was raining smartly then and a stiff breeze was blowing, but the heavy, sickening odor from the neighboring fertilizing factories and from the filthy creek itself saluted Mayor Boody’s nostrils even before he left his carriage. Health Commissioner Griffin bore the smell like a veteran, but Corporation Counsel Jenkins looked unfeignedly sick from the start. The smell seemed a little worse than he had prepared himself to meet.
Through the slimy waters the boat coursed, while members of the committee sitting in the wheelhouse with the mayor told him they were sorry the tide was not low, for then the smell would be many times worse. Mayor Boody, intimated, with a laugh, that the situation as it was seemed sufficiently atrocious. A stop was made at Cord Meyer’s bone boiling establishment on Furman’s Island, only a hasty and superficial examination was made, but the smell was such that Mr. Jenks turned away in disgust and gasped for fresh air. The mayor tried hard to conscientiously sniff all the odors that were to be caught, but began toshow signs of not relishing the task. When the party re-embarked the boat steamed to Andrew Wissel & Co’s place, also on Furman’s Island. Wissel has the contract to remove offal from King’s County, and out of his unsavory stock he manufactures fertilizing preparations. Wissel’s son in law, a young man of pleasing manners and speech, tried hard to convince Mayor Boody that the atmosphere was not polluted, but the mayor’s nostrils were as wide open as his ears, and with a significant sniff and a still more more significant look he started off towards the boat.
A whole creek full of stench producing establishments remained, but Mayor Boody asked to be taken back to the Grand Street dock, where his carriage awaited him, “I have had enough of this,” he said. “I realize that you have a grievance and I want to live to help you.” “It is a crying shame.” said Corporation Counsel Jenks. The he stopped suddenly and listened without comment to members of the committee who explained that the odors which had sickened him were nightly pervading miles of Brooklyn thoroughfares and ruining the comfort and the health of thousands of people. The health commissioner had little to say, but both the mayor and corporation counsel freely promised to do what they could to abate the nuisance. “We will use all the power possible,” the mayor said in substance, “but it is your duty also to exert yourselves. A nuisance exists here and it is for you to prove it a nuisance. Everybody who suffers from this nuisance should be prepared to come downtown and testify against it. The trouble has been that when two or three citizens came down to testify that these smells were a nuisance the other side invariably presented a greater number of witnesses who were willing to swear that no nuisance existed.”
The mayor and his party were cheered by the delegations as they re-entered their carriage. Afterward some of the delegated sailed the length of Newton Creek and paid a brief visit to Rosenberg’s fat rendering and bone boiling establishment near Calvary Cemetary Bridge. At no time during the afternoon, however, was anything like a thorough examination of the alleged nuisances on the creek shore made.
In the evening an executive meeting Seventeenth Ward citizens was held at 101 Monitor Street. Henry T. Steinhaner presented a report of the mayor’s visit to the creek and also reported, with much detail, the result of several night trips which have recently been made by Seventeenth Ward citizens to Newton Creek factories. This report is not to be made public… the intention being to use it in the courts as evidence. Members of the night smelling committee say, however, that their experiences have been quite stirring at times, and that some day they will make interesting reading.
And they have! It is interesting (and a little depressing) to learn that even in 2007 nothing has really changed. Same shit, different century.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint likes to throw them some D’s
Yesterday evening after meeting a buddy of mine for dinner, my husband and I decided to walk home. This seemingly insignificant decision netted me a real prize.
I found this trace of turd terrorism in the barren no man’s land between north Williamsburg and Greenpoint: Berry at N. 11th Street. Moving forward, I would like to suggest that this poster be used as the demarcation point between the two ‘hoods because throwing one’s (or someone else’s) “D’s” into another person’s face is exclusively a Greenpoint avocation. While anthropologists fret over our simian brethren’s ability to make tools, we are furiously throwing the fiercest fucking D’s on the East Coast! Long live the Devolution!
Miss Heather
P.S.: Although dung throwing is perfectly acceptable, be advised that Greenpoint has an explicit anti-fart policy, so mind your fucking manners.
Brownfinger
As I was parsing through my inbox this week I came across a compelling question from one of my commentors. Dupreciate’s email read as follows.
While we’re chattin, I was wondering if you’ve seen this short/doc series yet:
http://www.vbs.tv/shows/index.php?show=Toxic%20Brooklyn
Has less to do with dog poop and more with crude oil – interested in your take on the ordeal.
While I could have answered his question in two or three sentences, I was feeling chatty and contemplative this particular morning. As a result, “Dupreciate” got a two to three paragraph missive that eventually degenerated into a balf-baked Socialist/sociological rant to savor over his lunch hour. While far from perfect, I believe this tome merits sharing. Here it is, in all its abject glory…
Hey, I just watched episode #2 of this series and got the general gist. Although I do not make it very explicit on my blog, I am appalled by all the irresponsible development going on both in Williamsburg and Greenpoint. Although the previous sentence may sound like some vague bullshit statement, I chose my words (READ: irresponsible) very carefully, as it encompasses a variety of very troublesome issues, not just the oil spill. Here are a few of them:
Simply put, the practice of trusting the developers police themselves needs to stop. If Scarano and the number of properties damaged by shoddy construction practices (like 106 Green Street) does not attest to the need for strong government intervention, nothing does.
If these very people cannot be trusted to erect a building that is in compliance with building code and zoning laws, why the fuck should we expect them to give a damn about the environmental hazards that may or may not be present underneath them? Soil testing (as I understand it) is not mandatory. It should be. Petroleum is not the only toxin that we should be concerned about. For example, there was once a Paris Green manufacturer near McCarren Park. I do not expect you to know what “Paris Green†is, so I will tell you: it is a very toxic paint that was popular during the Victorian era. If my memory serves me correctly, arsenic is one of its by-products. Or it was cyanide? I do not remember which.
If you want to scare yourself shitless, go through the Brooklyn Daily Eagle archives and run a search on all the industrial accidents that have occurred in the north Brooklyn area. Mind you, that’s only what merited reporting. This does not include 150 years+ of surreptitious illegal dumping.
About a year ago I read an interesting book about how the slums in Detroit came into existence. Although there were a number of city-specific factors at play (like the demise of the American auto industry), there are others that I find relevant to what is going on not only in North Brooklyn, but in NYC at large. I am talking about the destruction/neglect of affordable rental property. One of the biggest mistakes Detroit made was its (over)development of properties for sale at the expense of rental property. They let the inner city decay as the ‘burbs flourished.
I strongly suspect the ‘luxury housing’ that is being built here is going to make slums flourish as well. Once you render a neighborhood prohibitively expensive to the middle class (which is the backbone of Manhattan’s workforce— and I consider any family whose yearly income is $45,000 – $100,000 as being ‘middle class’), they move further out. This completely undermines the purpose of rent-stabilization— which is largely responsible for PREVENTING New York City from becoming another Detroit. Pardon my pinko thinking, but once a city begins to neglect the core of its worker-force, a whole lotta bad is going to follow.
Speaking for myself, the properties that have been razed in my ‘nabe have facilitated crime. About ¼ of my block has ceased to exist, and the result is my having to shoo junkies from hanging out on my stoop. Magic Johnson’s condos are not going to fix this social problem. If anything, it is only going to make it worse. I find it impossible to believe that they are going to dredge up 130 families to buy into this monstrousity. So, the property (and many others like it) will probably have high vacancy rates. High vacancy rates = high crime.
All the while, the working class and elderly (who sorely need housing and add value to the neighborhood at large) are being driven out in droves. This is more than a little depressing. My husband and I often wonder if/when we’ll be next. I hope this long-winded socialist tome has given you a clear picture of my take on this subject.
H
I am neither a city planner nor an economist, but it doesn’t take a so-called expert to recognize the rapacious land speculation that is going on in north Brooklyn (or all of Brooklyn, for that matter). Not unlike the barons of industry before them, these land jobbers are squeezing our neighborhood down to the last dollar, quality of life (or inadequate infrastructure) be damned. Thus, the finger buildings will continue rise until it is no longer in the developer’s financial interest to build them.
Even Williamsburg’s canines have caught ‘finger fever’. I guess the real estate there has gotten so expensive, even the dogs have to maximize their air rights.
I found this ‘Turdhenge’ at 111 N. 4th Street. Note the mezzanine on the turd to the right. Not to be outdone, Greenpoint has also gotten high-rise hysteria. As I noticed at 200 Franklin Street yesterday.
I wonder if this ‘product’ is part of the new waterfront (re-zoning) I have heard so much about?
Miss Heather
R & R
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Having completed my day’s work, I am headed up to the roof for a little R & R. The sunblock has been slathered, the refreshing beverages selected and reading material pulled. My sunglasses are perched atop my head itching to be put to good use.
Those of you who have ever wondered why I put up with sporadic hot water problems, a Superintendent who is a blithering idiot, or the hipster junkies who like to loiter on my stoop, look at the above photo. When you have a view like this (as I do), you learn to let a few things slide.
Off I go!
Miss Heather
Let the litigation begin!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Yesterday evening I received the following email from Larry Schwab, the manager of 131 Huron Street:
As promised, I am informing you that 110 Green Street Development LLC has brought an Order to Show Cause against [myself] 131 Huron St Assoc Inc to show why he should be granted a license to enter onto my property. The hearing will be held at Part 16 of the Courthouse located at 360 Adams Street Brooklyn NY on April 27, 2007 at 9:30 AM.[this can change as legal maneuvers take over] In his papers the Petitioner 110 Green Street Development LLC, depicts himself a victim of unreasonable neighbors (! — Ed. Note). He alleges to have acceded to all demands previously set forth. Is that true??
Will keep you posted
Larry Schwab
This is a catch 22 if I ever saw one. Even if 110 Green Street is denied access to Schwab’s property, who’s to say they won’t pull a ‘106 Green’ and let themselves in anyway?
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
