Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
From The New York Shitty Inbox: The Production Lounge Gets Served
This item comes courtesy of a chap named Matt who writes:
Thought you’d enjoy this. It was posted on the door of the Production Lounge the other day.
New York Shitty Day Starter: Hey, Ho, Let’s Grow!
Filed under: 11222, Crosstown Local, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
Lest yesterday’s “Day Ender” did not make it clear: G trainers are not a happy lot. There’s a special magic that comes with a “gentrifying” community that is highly educated, under (if employed at all) and pissed off—- waiting for the G train. I recently likened the Crosstown Local to a penitentiary to a friend of mine. I said it was a place where one is forced to contemplate life.
Or in this case, alternatives.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: Absolutly Zero Proof(read)
Filed under: 11222, Crosstown Local, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
Today as I was shutter-bugging during Forgotten New York’s tour of Bushwick a gentleman apologized to me for walking in front of my lens.
I wouldn’t want to interfere with Miss Heather taking pictures.
He said. After getting over the initial shock of being “recognized” I replied:
Don’t apologize at all. I’m patient. I can wait.
I mention this anecdote because I have been patiently waiting for my fellow Garden Spotters to tender their two cents on one of the many Absolut Brooklyn subway posters gracing the Crosstown Local.
Today my waiting came to an end. And, quite frankly, I was impressed. Given the high esteem and expectations I have of my fellow Greenpointers this is noteworthy.
What first caught my eye was the giant penis inscribed upon the above gent with chiseled pecs walking his bull dog. That, in turn, drew my attention to this.
Follows are the street numbers for the above depicted (and to reiterate: adjacent) row houses.
400
387
I have on occasion seen street numbers “jump” but I have never to my recollection seen odd and even numbered houses on the same side of the street. Although I had my suspicions I decided to consult the expert; after the Forgotten-NY tour of Bushwick (and dinner) I took Kevin Walsh on a tour of the Queens-bound platform of the Crosstown Local at Metropolitan Avenue. I pointed out to him my eagle-eyed (and anonymous) neighbor’s discovery. Kevin concurred: odd and even-numbered houses are not adjacent to each other.
So there have you. It would appear that this idyllic block only exists in the world of Photoshop, not reality. (As if the attractive, young people gracing this advertisement were not sufficient evidence. People sit on stoops and walk their dogs in Greenpoint. Some gents here, in fact, have moobs— but they are not the result of hitting the gym.). One would think Absolut Brooklyn, which not only had the money to thoroughly inundate our subway system with these advertisements, sponsor Brooklyn Blogfest V and give out swag in return for blog posts would hire an ad agency that would notice this kind of thing. I guess not. Maybe next time they should hire this anonymous Greenpointer— or Kevin— as a consultant?
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: Hookahtime!
From Mediterranean Shawarma on Manhattan Avenue.
Miss Heather
Greenburg Photo Du Jour: McCarren Park
Filed under: 11211, 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
If I had to pick one photograph to exemplify the state of our parks in north Brooklyn this would be it. A young girl sitting on a concrete ledge (which was created when our Parks Department, in its infinite wisdom, decided McGolrick needed this piece of fencing more) amidst bags of garbage and a bottle full of urine. All the while at Barge Park in Greenpoint the band played on. AND ON. It could be heard from several blocks away in any given direction.
Imagine, if you will, trying to throw a birthday party for a group of young children in the playground across the street from this?
I can personally attest that a group of young mothers attempted to do just this. Now imagine trying to do so while a gentleman on stage across the street is screaming the word “Fuck” at the top of his lungs. This did— indeed— happen. How our Parks Administrator— who also happens to be the Executive Director of OSA, Stephanie Thayer, lacked the foresight to know that throwing a concert across from a playground might be problematic is beyond me. Clearly she has other things on her mind. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say making money for OSA.
I know for a fact that a number of board members of OSA (which was in large part responsible for this shit show) have young children. It is not unreasonable to assume that some of them, had the shoe been placed on the other foot, would not have been very happy if this had happened during their child’s birthday party. In fact, I’d go so far as to say if their young ones were subjected to this “language” some of these individuals would raise holy hell. But therein lies the rub: the board members of OSA, having $3,000 a piece to spare each (so as to become board members in the first place) do not have to rely on public park space to have birthday parties for their children. They are able to afford other options.
I suppose some children matter more than others.
Miss Heather
P.S.: I suppose I would also be remiss if I didn’t point out that Barge Park has been waiting for a field house (so as to furnish this park with bathrooms) for several years. The money was supposedly heir marked but nothing ever came of it. Yesterday I counted no less than five port-o-lets provided by OSA/the Parks Department for concert.
It’s very telling our supposed “Parks Advocate” saw fit to provide such an amenity to transient park users but somehow cannot find the wherewithal to provide lavatories for the people who use this park the other 364 days a year? Oh wait, I get it: concerts— not toilets— make money.
Greenpoint Represents!
Filed under: 11215, 11222, BAD ASS, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
As you are reading this post the Second Annual Jello-O Mold Competition is coming to pass— where a very special entry, I understand, will be unveiled! Something so sublime its creator, Victoria, swore me to secrecy until the date and time of this competition. She writes:
Hi Heather,
The photos are attached. The competition is not till Saturday evening so please don’t post these until then. You can’t see them in these photos, but the model includes little LED lights that light up the jello eggs from behind. Its meant to look like the digester eggs lit blue at night.
I have done my best to “keep calm and wobble on” with the secret I have been entrusted to keep. But I have to be honest: it’s been damned hard. I have not even allowed the Mister to see what I am about to show you, dear readers. Here it is: a gelatinous tribute to Greenpoint’s most interesting— and curiously beloved— landmark. Yes, I am talking about none other than “The Shit Tits”.
Once I recovered from my initial fit of ecstasy at this, part of our poop plant rendered in foodstuffs, I voiced concerns that the people attending and judging this competition would not understand what has been placed in front of them. No worries, Victoria has that covered! She writes:
I did write my own little essay on why the Shit Tits are so awesome and printed out a little montage of photos of the real deal so people can see for themselves and fully appreciate my jello genius.
I will openly admit that I am more than a little biased here. But— and this is a big but— if the judges of this competition cannot appreciate the sheer genius of this (and give it the award it so richly deserves) then I don’t need them. As far as I (and I suspect a great many other Greenpointers) am concerned these bad boys are a winner. Tits down.
Miss Heather
UPDATE, June 28, 2010: I have been advised that this masterpiece did not get the grand prize. That went to some concoction involving the virgin Mary. Clearly these people have no taste.
NYS Flickr Pool
You must be logged in to post a comment.