Quicklink: Drawbridge Goes On…

Gothamistsc

Gothamist really nailed this headline (click on the above image for the full “story”). The Brooklyn Barge Bar is about a lot of other things than booze. Thus why I am sharing for everyone’s edification the statement issued by Community Board 1 Brooklyn’s SLA/DCA Committee recommending this liquor license be denied. Enjoy some facts for a change, gentle readers!

CB!BBBnys

Community Board 1 Brooklyn voted against this liquor license being granted.

Sewage Discharge Point, Broklyn Barge Bar

Who does not want to feast upon a $22.00 skirt steak next to a sewage discharge point?

Brooklyn Barge Bar site, 5/13/2015

I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

Brooklyn Barge Bar Site, 5/13/2015

P.S.: If Bedford + Bowery is listening: exactly when are you going to approve my comment? Simply curious.

Still waiting

New York Shitty Photo du Jour: Dead End

April 26, 2011 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

From Noble Street.

Miss Heather

New York Shitty Day Starter: The American Playground

March 26, 2011 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

Kicking off this sunny— if brisk— weekend I present to you this bit of leisure time captured at the American Playground yesterday.

For those of you who are wondering, the area adjacent to 49 Noble Street is still cordoned off due to falling debris. For those of you keeping track this makes over three months and counting.

It would appear, however, that some kind of detritus catcher has been put in place. What can we expect in the way of action to follow this most auspicious development?

If this (from the Department of Buildings web site) is any indication, I’d say not much.

Miss Heather

Quicklink: Ignoble Street

January 18, 2011 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

Greenpoint residents have a message for the shadowy owner of a waterfront lot — tear down this fence! The chain-link fence bars traffic or pedestrians from the western end of Noble Street, which offers wonderful views of Manhattan and access to the waterfront. It is owned by firebrand developer Joshua Guttman, who owns the former Greenpoint Terminal Market building and several other sites nearby. The warehouse building was the site of a massive fire four years ago, and some believe that lax security led to the arson…

My buddy over at Queens Crap writes in regards to the above passage from this story by the Brooklyn Paper:

He’s kidding, right?

Who’s to say? What I want to know is if our “community leaders” and/or “open space advocates” have asked Mr. Guttman when he plans to conduct repairs on 49 Noble Street. As some of you might recall this building’s losing battle against the elements; lack of proper maintenance; and/or gravity resulted in the closure of part of the American Playground last December.

For those of you who are keeping track this barricade has been in place for one month now.

Miss Heather


Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: American Playground, Revisited

December 19, 2010 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

American Playground 12192010

Yes folks, it would appear that the area adjacent to 49 Noble Street has been cordoned off by our Parks Department. Exactly how long this barricade will remain in place is anyone’s guess.

Why I find this laudable, I would like to offer one piece of constructive criticism.

Signs in Polish and Spanish need to be put in place. It has been my observation quite a few patrons of this park are not fluent English speakers— much less English readers.

Just a thought.

Miss Heather

From The New York Shitty Inbox, Part II: What’s Up At The American Playground?

December 13, 2010 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

A lady named Michelle writes the evening of December 12, 2010:

Hi Miss Heather,

Was walking my dog a few nights ago and we happened upon a curious notice posted at the American Playground on Franklin – right across from Word.  Seems the place has been condemned and is “imminently perilous to life.”  I’ve seen these outside gnarly looking buildings that seem like they may cave in on the squatters living in them, but any idea why American Playground has earned the notice?

Would send a picture, but I’m never out there with my phone.

Just curious.

As you can imagine I found this more than a little disturbing so this morning I headed over without delay.

Sure enough, there was a Vacate Order on the premises— but why?

When I checked the Department of Buildings database I could find no indication whatsoever such an order was issued. On a lark I then checked the Department of Buildings database regarding the adjacent property, 60 West Street*. What I found was quite interesting.

Was this the reason such an order was served? There is no way to tell conclusively (this complaint is from last year) but I would not rule it outside the realm of possibility. Especially since I have it on excellent intelligence that falling debris from this property has been an issue in the past. But I suppose for the time being we’ll have to be content to walk away from this mystery with more questions than answers. On that note, I would like to leave you with this final question.

If the American Playground has a Vacate Order in place due to “conditions imminently perilous to life”, why is it open today? Thoughts anyone?

Miss Heather

*Which, as some of you may recall, is a live poultry storage facility.



White Birds Can’t Jump

February 4, 2008 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

On Saturday, February 2, 2008 I wrote:

I suspect it is safe to speculate that a number of the people reading this post are busy getting ready for this weekend’s Superbowl festivities. While I think it is pretty neat that New York made it this year, I am not big on sports and will probably find some other way to amuse myself.

Well, as luck would have it, I didn’t have to try very hard to find a way to pass my time. Yesterday, while most people were tapping kegs, rolling out the crudites, ripping open bags of potato chips and prepping French onion dip, I was standing watch over a chicken.

Yes, you read me correctly: a chicken.

Larry Bird on Milton Street

This chicken — who somehow found her (?) way onto Milton Street.

As with most days when I get hit with a mindfuck a minute, it all started innocently enough: with an argument with Mr. Heather. At noon I arose to find him on the computer, as is his usual habit. I notice a take-out container on the coffee table. I open it: inside is one cubic inch of red velvet cake. Recognizing this confection as being the one we purchased at Kombit the evening before, I asked:

How was the cake?

Mr. Heather: It was terrible. Way too dry.

When I encounter a culinary item I find distasteful I rarely endeavor to eat all but one bite. If I do not like something I will cease eating it. Mr. Heather— for reasons known only to him— is not so easily deterred. I did not ask him why he left only one minuscule chunk of cake, that would have invited a lengthy explanation which I, having just awakened, was probably not prepared for. I go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee instead.

Thereafter I proceeded to the bedroom to change clothes. Mr. Heather was busy preparing a load of laundry. Under the impression we were going for a walk (this was agreed upon the night before) I ask him what he is doing. He replies:

I am going to do a load of laundry.

Me: I thought we were going for a walk.
Mr. Heather: I thought you could help me do some laundry first.
Me: Um, no.
Mr. Heather: Well, can’t you wait?
Me: No.

I will spare you the gory details of what followed. Suffice it to say it involved a lot of passive-aggressive manipulation on the Mister’s part. Disgusted, I offered a compromise:

Fine, I will go to Williamsburg and cash out a gift certificate. You can meet me there later. I don’t want you going with me anyway. I am not in the mood to hear you curse about hipsters every fucking five feet.

And lo, a deal was made! I put on my coat and headed to Willy B on foot. When I reached Milton Street, this is what I found:

Tweeners and the chicken

A pack of tweeners and a woman looking at a chicken.

Having never seen a chicken before (save perhaps on their dinner plate) the children took great delight in chasing her. She was not as enthusiastic and elected to hide behind a dumpster.

Larry Bird behind the dumpster

When one of these gutter snipes shouted “Let’s put it on a raft and dump it in the East River!” I decided it was time for action: I called 311. Before I continue I’d like to say a few things about 311. Having the pleasure of living in Greenpoint, which can best be described as being in a state of (an over) development free for all, I have called them on numerous occasions. The operators, always courteous, vary wildly in regards to their ability to direct me to the proper agency. This time proved to be no exception.

Call #1

Me: Yes, I’d like to report that there is a chicken wandering around on Milton Street between Franklin and West.
Operator: What?
Me: There is a chicken loose on Milton Street in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. A number of young boys are tormenting it. Can you get someone down here to pick it up?
Operator: Is the chicken injured?
Me: I don’t know. It’s walking around but isn’t very happy.

After being put on hold with the Center for Animal Care and Control for over five minutes I got frustrated and hung up.

Call #2

Me: I know this is going to sound really strange, but there is a chicken at large on Milton Street between Franklin and West. A number of preteen boys are chasing it, can the C.A.C.C. please come by and retrieve it?
Operator: Is the chicken injured?
Me: Beats me, I don’t know anything about chickens.
Operator: I am going to forward your request to the local precinct and they’ll follow it up.

As I got off the phone I noticed the woman with me was engaged in a shouting match with the “parent” who was charged with “supervising” these pack of prepubescent p(h)ucks. Larry, in the meantime, had seen fit to enter the basketball court. Knowing that we had him cornered, the woman and I stood watch over him.

Five minutes go by. My fellow Samaritan calls the 94th Precinct directly* and reports Larry Bird. The operator assures her a police car is on the way.

Waiting for the police

We watch the chicken.

Fifteen minutes come to pass, she calls the 94th Precinct again. After informing the operator that she has been waiting fifteen minutes for the police to show up, she was told she has only been waiting for five minutes.

Larry Bird on the court

We (continue to) watch the chicken. Larry Bird— cornered, confused and cute— tries to keep warm.

Twenty minutes later the police arrived and with them came the crowning coup de grace: they were the same officers who detained me last December for taking photographs of Christmas Decorations. I had told the woman standing guard with me about this incident (people tend to engage in discussions when guarding a chicken, it makes the time go by faster when waiting for the 94th to arrive) and of all things, she happened to be a photographer.

Me: Aw shit.
Woman: What?
Me: Those are the cops who detained me. If you don’t mind, I’m getting out of here. I do not want to talk to these people. You can handle it, right?
Woman: Sure, go.

And go I did. FAST.

Wherever you are little Larry Bird, I hope you are safe and sound. Perhaps you’ll find your way to a nice animal sanctuary upstate where you can shoot hoops in peace.

Miss Heather

*Because I know the phone number for the 94th Precinct by rote memorization and gave it to her. Long story.

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