NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_A Whole New Ballgame
The shops and restaurants on Seventh Avenue used to have a "captive audience" attitude: you’re stuck out here so we can damn well be as nasty as we want, serve as lousy food as we want, sell what we want, and charge what we want.
It’s a whole new ballgame now. But that’s how it used to be.
I’m not naming name but there were quite a few nasty shopkeepers on Seventh Avenue back in the day. Some shops didn’t exactly have the vaunted "Customer is Always Right" ethos. Wacky return policies, bad stock, unhelpful service: some of the stores were downright unpleasant.
It was a commonly held belief that Slopers didn’t spend their money on Seventh Avenue (except for books, groceries, toys, teacher gifts, etc.) They’d go into Manhattan to really buy. And I think this created a kind of bitterness; the sense that nobody appreciated the shops nearby. The Clay Pot was always an exception: a home-grown business that Slopers always felt comfortable spending lots of money in.
But there wasn’t money then like there’s money now in Park Slope. In the past, a few brave souls tried to bring good food and merchandise to the nabe – but it rarely worked. There were all those doomed restaurants in the doomed restaurant spots. Before Yamato, there was one restaurant after another. Boom, boom, boom. For years and years. Same with the Maggie Moo spot. Years ago, tragedy struck there when a news dealer was shot and killed. And it’s been a doomed restaurant spot ever since.
On Seventh Avenue until fairly recently, there was no where to buy basic clothing items like nice jeans and t-shirts. For the most part, it was a desert here and everyone felt it. ‘Why don’t they open a Gap here?.’ was and still is a common question. Well, the answer is: there just isn’t the weekday street traffic to support it. That may not be true anymore: Aersoles and other national chains seem to be raking it in. Here’s hoping Seventh Avenue doesn’t become a "mall" of national chains.
The Slope was without decent food for so long that no one really considered going out for special dinners around here except to Cucina.
Well, Al Di La changed all that.
When someone does the history of the Park Slope/Fifth Avenue restaurant scene, they will probably point to the hour and the day that Al Di La opened their doors, and when a few weeks later they got the rave review in the Times.
Now, Park Slope seem to be the food capital of New York City, it’s where the adventurous, non-corporate restauranteurs want to be. There’s passion, there’s taste, there’s great talent out here now.
Who would have thunk it back in the day when Tutta Pasta, Snooky’s, Aunt Suzies, and Two Boots were the only games in town. But boy are there options now: 58 restaurants on Fifth Avenue. Sette, Miracle Grill, and Toast on Seventh Avenue.
Retail is also coming into it’s own now. There was a time when every store on Seventh Avenue was a cutsey gift shop or a real estate firm. There are still too many real estate places on Seventh. But who hasn’t noticed all the trendy, stylish, and smart retailers out here like Loom, Living on Seventh, Lolli, Bird, Baby Bird, Nest, Shangri La and more.
Fifth Avenue is filled with interesting shops like Matter, Diana Kane, Kinara, Nancy, Nancy, Scaredy Cat, Eidolan (one of the first quirky, home-grown retailers), Flirt, Goldy and Mac, and Romp, a very stylish, design-centric store for children’ s toys and furniture.
Not that there aren’t wonderful old-time Park Slope establishments. Little Things certainly fills the birthday party needs of the neighborhood and has the most comprehensive selection of Yuppie toys for miles. There’s the barber shop between 3rd and 4th Streets that seems to be loved by many. New Prospect certainly persists on Flatbush with its 1970′s style healthy, comfort food. And Cousin John’s is an excellent, if excessively buttery bakery that’s been here forever. Community Books, in its latest incarnation with Catherine Bohne at the helm, is beloved. As is Soundtrack, which is owned by a born-and-bred Park Sloper, and has a good selection, is willing to order anything, and has prices that beat Virgin and Tower.
So I’m not knocking anything here. I’m just saying, I’m just saying. There’s more money now which means the merchandise is higher quality, which means the shop keepers are a little more competitive, and the stakes are higher. Better for the shoppers of Park Slope, better fo the merchants. We’re not a captive audience anymore…
I’m just saying…
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
WANTED: A FEW GOOD WRITERS
OTBKB is looking for a few good writers to write POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE while she’s away on vacation.
I can’t pay. But OTBKB photogarpher, Hugh Crawford will take a portrait of you or someone you wish to have a picture of.
Please e-mail OTBKB at louise_crawford@yahoo.com and tell her what you’d like to write about.
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_FIREFLY
Excuse me for ranting. And I don’t mean to "flame" Firefly, the off-price European children’s clothing shop on Seventh Avenue between 4th and 5th Street.
No, they’ve got some gorgeous stuff. Just the kind of things my daughter loves. Sophisticated. Tasteful. High Quality. Some glitter and bling.
It’s what we used to call "Grandmother Clothes." That is, clothing a grandmother would buy as a gift – sweater sets, matching pant and shirt, party dresses. The kind of expensive Euro stuff a mom never buys. Not a mom who shops at Target or
Children’s Place. It’s the special stuff.
And they have great sales. I’ve been known to wander in when they have their big 50% Off Summer Sale sign in the window. It’s hard to resist when my daughter needs just one more summer item, another bathing suit or something.
Well, I did it again. I was lured in by the promise of something really nice and European for a good price. So off I went. Doh dee doh doh…
But there is something about that place. The owner is, well, a little… let me put it this way, she’s really IN YOUR FACE when you shop, which always makes me a tad uncomfortable. "Have a look at this. How about this? What size are your looking for? Isn’t this adorable…"
But she was pulling out some really nice stuff.
Then, I saw a bathing suit and a matching cover-up and decided, y’know, my daughter really does need one more swimsuit…
Big Mistake. Once I got it home, I discovered that European swimsuits run on the small side. A size 10 was way too small for my petite 8-year old daughter. And the striped cover-up was way too short. "Too small, too small," my daughter said handing me back her freshly bought swimwear.
But me worry? The owner had urged me (as part of the hard sell) to take the suit. "Have her try it on at home. You can always bring it back and exchange it," she said. But I guess I didn’t pay close enough attention. She must have said something like: "You can always bring it back and exhange it for something else…that’s on sale." The part about it having to be an item on sale is what I missed.
Well, I went back the next day with my too small swimwear and a saleswoman (not the owner) warned me immediately that I MUST choose something that’s on sale. "Oh, I’m going to exchange it for another suit, I said cheerily. "But what if I don’t find anything now, can I come back?" No, you really need to buy it now," the saleswoman said.
Okay…
Easier said than done. There were hardly any cover-ups left, and certainly none that matched a swimsuit. Finally I settled for a larger swimsuit and a non-matching cover-up. And they were even cheaper than yesterday’s purchases. Woo hoo. I was a happy shopper. For a moment, at least. And when all was said and done the store OWED ME $12 dollars.
I assumed they’d give me the cash. But how wrong I was. "I’d like to do it," the saleswoman said. "But I’d get fired."
Then she suggested that I see if there was anything I’d like to buy for $12 dollars. At this point, it felt like I’d been in the store for what felt like an hour. There was a cute set of rubber duckies I’d had my eye on for my sister’s baby Sonia. But noooooooooo. "You can’t buy that," the saleswoman snapped. "You can only buy a sale item!"
Another saleswoman, she may have been a manager, looked really embarassed, "Oh I think it would be okay." But then she took it back. "No, you better not. It’s store policy. We might get fired."
Well, now I had to search the store to find something for $12 dollars that was ON SALE. And this was no easy task. I did manage to find a pair of French pants for my sister’s baby Sonia for $7 dollars but I still had $5 dollars to go. Then they sent me off to the $5. basket in the front of the store. Gritting my teeth, I was able to find a cute t-shirt with cherries on it and the French word: Cerises. Tres chic, goddamit (I WAS SO ANNOYED BY NOW I COULDN’T CARE LESS).
I brought my items over to the saleswoman and she did the complicated arithmatic on her little calculator.
"You owe us $1.50." she said without any humor.
I was fit to be tied. I didn’t say anything. The aforementioned and embarassed saleswoman said something like, "I think it’s a wash. Just let her have it." She was rolling her eyes as if to say, "This is so stupid." I appreciated that she shared my point of view.
The other saleswoman put my items into a bag and said, "Well, you had to look around a lot." By way of explaining why she was cutting me a deal on that $1.50.
The clothes are pretty nice. I think my sister will like Sonia’s new pants and cherry (excuse me, cerises) t-shirt. Hopefully the other suit and non matching cover-up will fit my daughter.
And if it doesn’t, that’s it.
You won’t find me shopping at Firefly no more, no more. You won’t find me shopping there no more.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_LONG LOST FRIEND
A friend I haven’t seen in 14 years turned up in Park Slope on Monday. I was walking down Third Street and saw him standing on my stoop. He just stared at me until I figured out who he was. I knew immediately – he looked exactly the same – and yet it took a moment to register. Then we embraced and laughed. And then embraced some more.
He and his partner moved to Findhorn, a utopian community in Scotland all those years ago. They lived in a trailer for ten years until they got a house on the outskirts of Findhorn. Nine years ago they had a beautiful daughter, who is visually a perfect blend of them both; she attends a Waldorf school there.
My friend is an artist with a remarkable gift for life drawing (see above). At Findhorn, he is developing an arts and exhibition space. His partner heads up the Foundation’s weaving department.
We used to work together in the corporate media business. I was a video producer and he was a designer at a small, creative company in the West Village called Zacks and Perrier. It wasn’t the most interesting work in the world but the pay was good, the projects were good, and the people were great.
Even then, my friend was visionary: he only freelanced six months a year and spent the rest of the year traveling and painting. But even working just six months a year, it was obvious that he longed for something more in his life. He said that with humor-tinged seriousness practically every day. So many people do. Few actually do something about it.
When Zacks and Perrier merged with another company a lot of people’s lives changed direction. I know mine did. I hated the new company (it was called: The Partnership Works) and couldn’t wait to be released from working there. Eventually, I was laid off with severance and began to do work that really mattered to me, which eventually led me to writing. My friend hung on for a while but then moved to Scotland. "I never looked back," he said the other day. "But I did think it was strange that I just walked away from all those years at Zacks and Perrier and never saw anyone again."
But he had a great influence on me. For one thing, he was the first person I knew who lived in Park Slope. This was back in the early 1980′s and I was very Manhattan-centered then. But my friend was religious about this neighborhood. He bought a small coop on Garfield Place between Sixth and Seventh Avenues for $9,000, was a member of the Food Coop, and talked up the Brooklyn Museum, the Library, the Botanic Garden, and Prospect Park. He was the first to use the term "stroller gridlock" and he encouraged me to move out here and not, say, Carroll Gardens or Cobble Hill. "There’s nothing to do there. In Park Slope we have so much cultcha."
I’m pretty sure he used a thick New Yawk accent to say culture. He’s a funny guy full of Yiddish phrases, with a light, sarcastic, sometimes ironic approach to things. Yet, he is also extremely serious about life – someone you can have long conversations with about spirituality, art, the meaning of life, the silliness of things.
Seeing him the other day brought back a flood of memories, jokes, people I hadn’t thought about in years. And I’m sure my friend rarely thinks about that stuff in Findhorn.
But talking together, these small bits of remembered moments were like tiny gems we were finding on the floor. It felt good to honor that time, that place where we devoted so much energy.
I can see that my friend has found a place to live that truly suits him. His family can exist on practically no money there (he who used to dabble in day trading). The quality of life is good, the healthcare is free, his daughter’s school is inexpensive, and they can stay where they are for the rest of their lives.
And it’s a very unique place dedicated to to the sacred, deep listening and personal sharing, the spirit of service, and the opportunity to work alongside community members. He said that when he moved there he found out there was another way to exist, another way to look at life and oneself.
Park Slope seems really foreign to him now. Life is so much more simple where they are. I found myself feeling very conspicuously Park Slope-ish with my iced coffee, my cell phone, my Netflix envelope in my purse, my date book scribbled with too many appointments, my incredibly Brooklyn-centric view of things.
My friend and his family return to Findhorn in a few days. He’s invited me to visit and it’s something I might do. Just to have the chance to see this former Park Sloper in the place he now calls home — the place he is really meant to be.
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_Alternative Films for Kids
Because it’s summer and a hot and humid one at that, we’ve been to the movies an awful lot in the last few weeks. We saw CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY,which all of us, passionate fans of both Tim Burton and Roald Dahl, enjoyed thoroughly (critics be damned). We managed to avoid Herbie. And I actually enjoyed Madagasgar and The Fantastic Four (okay I was prepared to hate both and my expectations were rock bottom).
There were several films this summer that I wasn’t sure would be appropriate for my 8-year old daughter but actually turned out to be right up her alley.
BEWITCHED is good, post-modern fun. A trip down memory lane for me, my daughter enjoyed all those snippets of old Bewitched episodes. Plus Nicole Kidman. She loved it.
THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS is a well-acted and entertaining look at four teenage girls that I found to be simultaneously fascinating, clawing, funny and tear jerking. Okay, we both loved it.
MAD HOT BALLROOM, a documentary about competitive ballroom dance teams in the New York City public schools delivers on every level: it’s a smart, feel-good film that’ll have you laughing, crying, thinking about social injustice, and enthralled by raw talent. We both loved that one too.
Perhaps you’ve reached the point where you’ve seen everything worth seeing that’s in the theaters and you don’t know which DVD’s to rent from Netflix anymore. My friend Nancy Graham has created an ever-expanding and useful blog site called Alternative Films for Kids. She describes it as "a browser’s guide to some independent films, world cinema and
animations that will add welcome variety to a Disney-based diet. Not
all were produced with children in mind, but all may be enjoyed by
children."
An expat Park Sloper, Graham is a writer and animator with a master’s degree in Cinema Studies from NYU, who really knows movies (both experimental and mainstream). She’s also a resourceful homeschooling parent who, with her husband, is bringing up two kids in a big house in upstate New York with as little contact with mass culture as possible. The kids make their own movies, read a great deal, and watch from a hand-picked selection of alternative films like those mentioned on her site.
And their taste in film is by no means boring or safe. NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS is a family favorite as are Ingmar Bergman’s MAGIC FLUTE and Cocteau’s BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
Alternative Films for Kids includes reviews of: MARCH OF THE PENGUINS, The FILMS OF CHARLES AND RAY EAMES, THE PUPPET FILMS OF JIRI TRNKA, KIKI’S DELIVERY SERVICE, AND THE COSMIC EYE a collection by animator Faith Hubley.
Graham’s site will turn you on to films you never heard of, as well as films you may never have thought to share with your children. Her comments are always informative and thought provoking, even if you don’t hate post-1960 Disney as much as she does. There are recommended age ranges here, but Graham reminds parents to pre-screen for sensitive young viewers!
The site is being added to constantly and should grow into a large resource for parents in need of alternative viewing options. Graham went looking for a site of this kind on the web one day, couldn’t find one, and decided to start her own. Born out of need is the way a lot of good ideas happen. Luckily, Graham decided to act on it and Alternative Films for Kids is the result. Check it out.
SCOOP DU JULY 28_Weather. News. Stuff to Do.
BROOKLYN WEATHER: What’s it gonna do today? Check here for Brooklyn weather.
OTBKB SPECIALS:
HOT TIP THURSDAY: CONCERT: JJ Byrne Park hosts a concert series. Tonight: Buzz Universe
plays an ecle ctic blend of rock, jazz, reggae, funk and groove. 6:30
pm. Fifth Avenue, between Third and Fourth streets. (718) 768-3195.
Free. Bring a picnic and sit on the grass.
–Check out the OTBKB Store for "Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn" and "It’s Only Natural" T-shirts. More designs coming soon.
CITY NEWS
HEAT WAVE/ Con Edison and the city’s Office of Emergency Management are asking Harlem residents to curtail usage of non-essential electrical appliances for the time being. Crews are working in the area to correct feeder cable problems. The affected areas are from the East River to the Hudson River between 110th and 115th streets, and along Harlem River Drive to West 163th Street. This evening’s conditions come after a citywide request by Con Ed for everyone to conserve energy. The utility says so far there are no reported outages Wednesday. There were scattered outages in Brooklyn and Queens Tuesday, but Con Ed officials say all major power problems around the city have now been fixed. Con Ed reduced voltage to thousands of customers in northern Brooklyn while it repaired problems with three feeder cables. Temperatures rose into the mid-90s today, following two days of 90-degree temperatures so far this week. All New Yorkers are being asked to save power wherever possible by reducing air conditional use and turning off lights and televisions when not in use.
BROOKLYN BEAT
CAR CRASH IN CATSKILLS DANCE CAMP/ A Dodge Neon ferrying a group of young people from a dance camp along a rural highway in the Catskills veered into oncoming traffic shortly before noon yesterday and slammed into a dump truck, killing all six of the car’s occupants instantly, the authorities said. The driver of the dump truck was slightly injured. Pieces of a mangled Dodge Neon were removed from the highway Wednesday in Mongaup Valley, N.Y., after it collided with a dump truck. Six people in the car were killed.The driver of a dump truck was slightly injured after his vehicle and a Dodge Neon collided yesterday in Mongaup Valley, N.Y., killing all six people in the car. The crash was near a Catskill vacation area for Hasidic families. "The only word you could use is horrific," said Stephen Lungen, the district attorney for Sullivan County. The car was being driven by a counselor from the Atlanta Dance Camp in South Fallsburg, N.Y., who was bringing the others to a nearby lake to go swimming, teenage counselors at the camp said last night. The camp is owned by a woman from Brooklyn, Anna Kapitannikova, whose 16-year-old son, Ilya, a dancer, was among the dead, they said. The small Neon, whose occupants ranged in age from 7 to 25, was "totally destroyed, totally torn apart," Mr. Lungen said.The accident occurred on State Route 17B, a two-lane highway with a 55-mile-per-hour speed limit, in Mongaup Valley, about five miles west of Monticello and about 80 miles northwest of New York City. Read more at the New York Times.
ATLANTIC RAIL YARDS/ The Metropolitan Transportation Authority was scheduled to announce who will win the rights to develop the Atlantic Rail Yards in Brooklyn today, but the agency instead gave the favored bidder more time to sweeten the deal. At an MTA board meeting Wednesday in Manhattan, instead of making a final decision between competing bids from Forest City Ratner and the Extell Corporation for the property, the agency announced it is entering into an exclusive 45-day negotiation period with developer Bruce Ratner to see if he will agree to pay more money to build his planned development over the rail yards. Ratner’s plan calls for a sprawling commercial and residential development anchored by a new basketball arena for the New Jersey Nets. Ratner offered $50 million in cash for the development rights, in addition to other investments, while Extell offered $150 million in cash.The MTA has a mandate to get as much for the property as it can, and several board members said while they preferred the Ratner plan over Extell’s, his price was too low. “I think that the bid that we did get from Forest City, while complete and well thought out, frankly was not as high as I expected,” said MTA Chairman Peter Kalikow. “I expected the MTA to receive more money.”
On Thursday, the "Today" Show continued its series called "Christmas in July" at the Urban Assembly for Law & Justice High School in Brooklyn, New York. Principal Elana Karopkin has worked tirelessly to make this a strong academic environment for her 200 incoming students (9th and 10th grade) was thrilled to receive the donations,which ranged from furniture, school supplies, and other much-needed supplies for her 11 classrooms
HAPPENING/TODAY/THURS JULY 28:
Thursday July 28: STAY COOL at BAM Rose Cinema: Rize (PG-13) 85min. 2:30 (Fri-Sun only), 5, 7:15, 9:20pm. Me and You and Everyone We Know (R) 95min. 2:20 (Fri-Sun only), 4:40, 7:30, 9:40pm. March of the Penguins (G) 80min. 2:10 (Fri-Sun only), 4, 5:50, 7:40, 9:30pm
Thursday July 28: DANCE: Young Dancers in Repertory offers a free dance class for children ages 4 to 14. 10:30 am to 11:30 am. Sunset Park, 44th Street and Sixth Avenue. (718) 567-9620. Free.
Thursday July 28: R&B CONCERT: Metrotech Center hosts a summer music series. Today: Sharon Jones, "Queen of Funk." Noon to 2 pm. Jay Street entrance to Metrotech Center. (718) 636-4100. Free.
Thursday July 28: TRANSIT MUSEUM: Toddlers, ages 2 to 5, are invited to a session of transit stories, songs and a tour. $5, $3 children under age 17 and seniors. 1 pm. Schermerhorn Street and Boerum Place. (718) 694-1873.
Thursday July 28: BAMCINEMATEK: presents "After Vigo" series. Today: "Kes" (1969). $10, $7 students, $6 members. 4:30 pm, 6:50 pm and 9:30 pm. 30 Lafayette Ave. (718) 636-4100.
Thursday July 28: CONCERT: JJ Byrne Park hosts a concert series. Tonight: Buzz Universe plays an ecle ctic blend of rock, jazz, reggae, funk and groove. 6:30 pm. Fifth Avenue, between Third and Fourth streets. (718) 768-3195. Free.
Thursday July 28: STORIES IN THE GARDEN: Annual event hosted by The Hoyt Street Garden. Kids and parents invited. 7 pm. Atlantic Avenue and Hoyt Street. (718) 237-0145. Free.
Thursday July 28: TWILIGHT TOUR: Enjoy an evening stroll and cruise around the Prospect Park Lake. Boat ride on the electric boat Independence, followed by a guided exploration of the park’s nature trails. $25. 7 pm to 9 pm. Enter park at Lincoln Road and Ocean Avenue. Reservations needed. (718) 287-3400.
Thursday July 28: MUSIC: Freebird Books and Goods presents The Poison Lovers in a live music performance. 7 pm. 123 Columbia St. (718) 643-8484. Free.
Thursday July 28: SALSA BY THE SEA: 27th annual Seaside Summer Concert Series features La India, Wisin and Yandel. $5. 7:30 pm. Asser Levy Park, West Fifth Street and Surf Avenue. (718) 469-1912.
Thursday July 28: CELEBRATE BROOKLYN: Summer performing arts festival presents Milly Quezada in a merengue program. $3 suggested donation. 7:30 pm. Prospect Park band shell, Ninth Street and Prospect Park West. (718) 855-7882.
Thursday July 28: PLAY: The Sackett Group presents its premiere season as the resident company at the Brooklyn Music School Playhouse. Production is Tennessee Williams’ "Suddenly Last Summer." $19. 8 pm. 126 St. Felix St. (212) 868-4444.
Thursday July 28: IMPACT THEATER: presents "The Institution," a comedy by Gerald Zipper. $15. 3 pm. 190 Underhill Ave. (718) 390-7163.
Thursday July 28: ART, BEER & MORE: New York Like a Native hosts a tour of Williamsburg. Visit several galleries and end at the Brooklyn Brewery. $16. 1:30 pm to 4 pm. Meet in front of the Williamsburg Art and Historical Center, Broadway at Bedford. (718) 393-7537.
Thursday July 28: MOVIES WITH A VIEW: Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy hosts an outdoor film festival – displayed on a 2-story inflatable movie screen – with the theme of "water" in honor of the NY harbor. Tonight: "Dr. No." Music begins at 6 pm. Film begins at sunset. Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park. (718) 802-0603. Free.
Thursday July 28: PLAY BALL: Brooklyn Cyclones play against Hudson Valley. $5 general admission, $10 box seats. 7 pm. Surf Avenue and West 17th Street. (718) 507-TIXX.
Thursday July 28: BARGEMUSIC: Classical music concert features a program of Bach, Beethoven and Mussorgsky. $35. 7:30 pm. Fulton Ferry Landing, Old Fulton Street at the East River. (718) 624-2083.
Thursday July 28: OPERA: The Opera Company of Brooklyn will perform Pasatieri’s "La Divina and Signor Deluso." $10 in advance, $15 at the door. 7:30 pm. Voorhees Theater at New York City College of Technology, 186 Jay St. (212) 567-3283.
THIS SOUNDS COOL/UPCOMING, ONGOING, MISC. EVENTS:
Through August 14: The play "Walk on Two Moons," based on the book by Sharon Creech, follows a girl on a road trip with her eccentric grandparents as she and her best friend tell stories about life back at home.The play is a production of Theatreworks/NYC, which provides theater tickets to children who cannot afford them; paid tickets benefit the organization’s outreach programs. It is directed by Melissa Kievman, with music by Lucas Papaelias. Through Sunday, August 14, Monday and Friday, 10:30 a.m. and 1 p.m., Tuesday, 1 p.m., Wednesday, 7 p.m., Thursday, 1 p.m. and 7 p.m., Sunday, 2 p.m., Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher St., between Bleecker and Grove streets, 212-279-4200, $35.
Through August 1: The Williamsburg gallery Pierogi 2000 presents its summer group show, with works on view by Dawn Clements, James Esber, Kim Kimball, and others.The latest edition of the gallery’s biannual literary and arts journal, Pierogi Press, was edited by author Rick Moody. Through Monday, August 1, Thursday-Monday, noon-6 p.m., Pierogi 2000, 177 N. 9th St., between Driggs and Bedford avenues, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 718-599-2144, free
Mondays in August: SOUL MUSIC IN BROOKLYN The second installment of the Martin Luther King Jr. Concert series features crooners Peabo Bryson and Regina Belle (Monday). Upcoming concert highlights include the O’Jays (August 1), Hezekiah Walker (August 8), Chaka Kahn (August 15), and the Mighty Sparrow (August 22). Mondays through August 22, 7:30 p.m., Wingate Field, Winthrop Street between Brooklyn and Kingston avenues, Brooklyn, 718-469-1912, free.
Through August 13: My Brooklyn: The Winners. 4th Annual Photo and Essay Contest Brooklyn is both a geographical reality and an emotional landscape, enriched by the stories, memories and dreams of the 2.5 million people who live here, and the millions of others who’ve come before. It is a place that inspires profoundly personal feelings, and yet Brooklyn is also an experience we share. Central Library. Grand Army Plaza.
July 4-29: AFTER VIGO: A festival of films by and inspired by the great French filmmaker, Jean Vigo. When Jean Vigo died in 1934 at age 29, his legacy consisted of two shorts, one featurette, and one feature. Yet in the years since, a second legacy has blossomed; disciples of Jean Vigo—ranging from François Truffaut to Lindsay Anderson—have acknowledged and quoted from his work. In tribute to the centennial of Vigo’s birth, BAMcinématek presents the works of Vigo with a brief sampling of films inspired by or capturing the revolutionary and emotional spirit of his work.
At the BAMCafe: Listen Up, Brooklyn! Jul 8—30 From burlesque to Barbara Streisand drag to "dirty-gospel" to country western to salsa music. Spend July with the hometown kids, celebrating the amazingly diverse array of Brooklyn’s native musical talent.
Thursdays in July and August: BLUES CONCERTS at the Old Stone House. Located in JJ Bryne Park. Fifth Avenue between 3rd and 4th Streets.
NOTICE
Brooklyn Free School has a few openings still left for the 2005-2006 school year for children ages 5-15. BFS is an independent, non-profit democratic school that empowers students to become the key decisionmakers of their own learning and how their school is run. There are no standardized tests, homework, report cards, or mandated curriculum at the school. It is the only program of its kind now operating in NYC. Here’s what parents are saying about the school: "Before my 13 yr-old son entered BFS, he was not reading at all. Now he’s not intimidated by reading and what’s more, he’s reading at an adult level." And: "Before we came to this school it was a daily struggl to get my sons to go to school. Now they wake me up to go." If you’re interested in learning more about the school or would like to arrange for a tour, reply to me at bklynfreeschool@msn.com. Also, please take some time to visit the Brooklyn Free School webstie to get a better idea of the exciting community we’re building. Alan Berger, Director
FYI:
City pools are OPEN. The Parks
Department offers free swimming lessons at many of the department’s
53 pools. The pools will be open from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. through Labor
Day.For more information, call 311 or visit the city’s website at
www.nyc.gov.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
ONLY THE BLOG KNOWS BROOKLYN RESTAURANTS_BROOKLYN FISH CAMP
by Paul Leschen
Mary had a little Fish Camp whose
clientele was…OK, I won’t go there. A certain blogger and I met
for lunch last week at Brooklyn Fish Camp, a bright baby-blue beacon
of the seafaring life on the formerly raunchiest block in Park Slope.
It is an offshoot of Mary’s Fish Camp, in the West Village, and
because of its proven track record, is an instant classic.
Along with the Blue Ribbon restaurants
and the brand new Night and Day, Fish Camp is part of a West Village
migration to Fifth Avenue. These dining spots have an advantage over
the homegrown competition in that they have already played the game
on even more dangerous turf and won. To pay West Village rent and be
able to afford to build a second home in occupied Brooklyn is a hell
of an accomplishment. It can also mean a shrewd business sense…but
no matter what corners Fish Camp cuts (small wine list, only one type
of oyster, small cramped space) they’ll make it up to you by
providing fresh, generously-portioned and dependably tasty seafood.
Dinner on a crowded night proved
impossible for me the first time I tried to eat there. 
The line
couldn’t fit in the small bar area, and fists were flying. Lunch
was another story; the room seemed calm, the pace relaxed. I was able
to appreciate the cool black and white photographs on the walls that
serve as an NYC-stylized replacement for ropes, anchors, and wooden
steering wheels.
Start with a beer; the tap selections
are perfect for clams and fishes. The wine list is small and
familiar—I’d rather a more varied selection of whites, maybe a
Gruner Veltliner or something austere from France. Appetizers lean
toward the unkosher. We shared a half dozen firm, saline Malpeque
oysters—nothing wrong with ‘em.
I had to get the lobster roll. It’s
famous round these parts. Maybe a lesser-known lobster roll would
cost less than $23. The trick, I think, is that the lobster chunks
are removed from the shell and tossed in a relatively light
mayonnaise-based sauce right before being served. The roll itself is
fresh baked and holds up to the salad. I can imagine paying $15 up in
Maine somewhere for a scoop of premade lobster salad atop a dry
commercial-quality roll. Still, Brooklyn Fish Camp’s lobster roll
is the most expensive sandwich I’ve ever had and many of you,
despite the unquestionable deliciousness, will feel ripped off. It’s
a sandwich. Served with a mound of fries. Which are addictive.
My highly literary and congenial dining
partner ordered the Mako Shark BLT. There weren’t any flaws, it was
well built and the shark filet was expertly grilled. But I didn’t
see stars. 
Maybe more profound bacon like that available at Stone
Park would have put this one over the top. The spicy onion rings get
an A for effort, but onion rings are greasy and there are only so
many square inches of them that I can ingest without having visions
of myself splayed face-down on the floor of a small rural house while
photographers point wide-angle lenses at me for my photo spread in
the supermarket tabloids as “world’s fattest piano player.”
Everyone’s food looked better than
ours, especially the catch-of-the-day entrees, and yet we both
enjoyed ourselves. I can trust these guys, at least during off-peak
times. And I’m finding more and more that dining in the
neighborhood is all about trust (when it’s not about being
adventurous).
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_Strange Day
Disasterous things happened to a friend of mine on July 27th for three years running. It was many years ago when we were both teens. But I still think of her every year on that day. No matter where we are. She’s always in my thoughts on that day.
This year she is in the south of France, one of her favorite places
to be. You can bet that she’s taking it easy. After the third incident
all those years ago, she vowed never to even move on July 27th;
I’m sure she doesn’t take it that far any more. But I’ll bet she
doesn’t fly on airplanes or do anything risky. I just have a feeling.
The day has that kind of power over her. And me too.
The first incident occurred on a hosteling trip in Camden, Maine. The group was hiking when the group-leader fell off a mountain to his death. That’s all I know. The teenagers had to find their way out of the park to get help. I remember she told me about it a few weeks after it happened and I was stunned that something so dramatic, so real could have happened to her. And it seemed unspeakably sad.
The second incident came a year later. Also on a hosteling trip. A friend of hers fell into a glacier lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. He couldn’t get out for more than an hour and nearly died. Fortunately, he was saved and lived to tell the tale.
The third incident occurred in a national park in Washington State. Again she was on a hosteling trip. This time the group was poncho sliding down an icy pass. My friend went flying into a tree and broke both of her legs. She had to be helicoptered out of the park (strapped to the outside of a helicopter) and taken to a hospital in Port Angeles where she was wrapped in body cast; she couldn’t leave the hospital for three months. Eventually, she was able to fly back to New York having missed three months of eleventh grade.
The year after that, we were together on July 27th, which felt sort of exciting and scary, too. We didn’t do anything on that day and joked that we were just going to sit very still. Afterall, the day was cursed. We were in a summer arts program in North Carolina feeling far away from home and family and spent the day in a local park having a picnic, swimming, taking it very easy.
When I was a teenager, I really looked up to this friend (and still do) for her sense of adventure, her fearlessness, her drive. Some people might say that going on hosteling trips three years in a row was pushing it a bit. Strange to say, I think I actually envied her these disasters: they seemed so dramatic even if they were tragic. Isn’t that what teenagers live for: drama, the real stuff.
I imagined losing someone I’d only known for a few weeks but had grown quite attached to and even called by a cute nickname. I pictured her trying to save her friend who nearly died in that icy Colorado lake. And her stories about the park ranger who visited her at the Port Angeles hospital…It was all so…grown up and, dare I say it, exciting. My life paled in comparison.
Ah, the strange logic of a teenage girl. But that’s how I thought about things then. And I still take it easy on July 27th, try to anyway. I wouldn’t want my life to take a dramatic turn. Not now anyway.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_The Anti-Camper
My daughter is loving Kim’s Kids Day Camp and that’s a good thing. At the beginning of
the summer she was vehemently anti-camp. She tried a day camp two years ago and
said, "Never again," It was a gymnastics day camp and I guess she had big
expectations: she probably expected to spend the entire day jumping on
a trampoline and doing cartwheels.
Turns out, the kids had to
do quite a bit of exercise in the morning. Warm-ups. And my daughter wasn’t
too crazy about THAT. One time they went to a public pool on Douglas
Street in Brooklyn and OSFO claims the water was really, really
shallow: "Two feet high, Mom. Not so great for swimming." She didn’t
much like the kids either.
Okay, okay. So I let her quit
after a week and she happily hung around the house. I tried not
to think about the hundreds of dollars wasted.
Last summer,
day camp was, of course, out of the question. We spent
afternoons at the pool in the Mariott Hotel in downtown Brooklyn, where we enjoyed the sauna, the whirlpool, and a chance for my daughter to take
swimming lessons.
As this summer approached, I wasn’t sure what my daughter would be up for. When I found a chess camp at a
place called "Let’s Play Chess," a small storefront on Fourth Avenue
between 8th and 9th Streets, I was surprised when my daughter said yes. For
three intensive hours a day, it was chess, chess, and more
chess. I signed her up for one week as an experiment and my
"anti-camper" seemed to enjoy it.
At the end of the week,
the teacher gave my daughter a trophy because "she improved the most of
everybody this week." That was a big thrill. But there were no girls at
the chess camp. My daughter was
itching to hang out with girls and to go swimming.
That’s when
she asked if she could join her best friend at a camp called Kim’s Kids
where they do swimming, hiking, and special trips.
"But you
hate day camp," I said. "I know. But I want to try this one," she replied. "Well, if I’m going to pay the money, you have to promise
not to quit. You have to make an effort to like it," I said
firmly. "I will," she said.
I had to jump over hoops
to get her into Kim’s Kids which is run by a fifth grade teacher at
PS 321 who really knows what he’s doing. But I
was able to do it. I begged, I pleaded, I filled out the forms
and handed over a check for $475 dollars.
After the first day
at Kim’s Kids, I knew it was a go. "It was great!" my daughter exclaimed, still wet from the beach with swatches of sunburn under her
eyes. "And my counselor is really pretty," she added. All the kids look
exhausted but like they had enjoyed themselves. From that day on, I knew we’d found a camp that even a avowed "anti-camper" like my daughter could enjoy.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_GREEN METAL TABLE GREEN PLASTIC CHAIRS
This is definitely the summer of the green metal table and the green plastic chairs. Given to us last year by neighbors who moved back to Manhattan, they’ve been in constant use this summer.
And they’ve added a very festive dimension to summer on Third Street. This weekend, we ate dinner on Saturday and Sunday out there. On Saturday, a friend who is moving from 2nd Street to 16th Street, brought over the contents of her refrigerator and made quesadillas, which were utterly delicious. We drank bright red Rose, the drink of the summer, and talked until after ten, when weariness set in and the kids were too tired for fun.
On Sunday, my downstair’s neighbor called: "Are we gonna be hillbillies again tonight?" I loved the image: lawn chairs in front of a trailer, six-packs of beer, bags of chips and sour cream dip. We are a version of that sitting on our green plastic chairs with our bottles of Rose, our attempts at gourmet potluck.
But we’re hillbillies just the same. Park Slope style. I wonder if people think: There’s that building where everyone sits outside all the time. What’s with that?
They can think what they want. This is where we want to be, what we want to do.
My husband made a batch of his now-famous chicken curry with almonds and dried cranberries. Everyone had more than one helping. They couldn’t help it. It was that good. Sunday was a three bottles of Rose kind of night and some Czech beer, too. The children stayed inside for the most part, watching Madagascar in the first floor apartment. Steering clear of their parents, they were having their own kind of fun.
Sitting on a green plastic chair is a great way to watch the world go by. I saw a family we know walking to Fifth Avenue for dinner, more than one couple sans children out for a date night, crowds of teenagers lumbering from one end of the block to the other, dog walkers, twenty-somethings ambling to The Gate, the beer pub on the corner of Third Street and Fifth Avenue.
We provide scenery for them (Look at those people eating dinner in their yard). And they’re our constant movie, the on-going flow of strangers and friends walking from Seventh to Sixth, Sixth to Seventh Avenues. They keep us entertained, are somewhere to put our eyes.
The table is chained to the fence. But we leave the chairs out, unchained, every night and no one has walked off with them. Yet. We’d be lost without them. It’s the summer of the green metal table and plastic chairs. The only place to be. On Third Street.
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_BROOKLYN HISTORICAL SOCIETY
On Saturday, my mother and I decided to check out the Brooklyn Historical Society. For years, I’ve noticed the building on the corner of Perrepont and Clinton in Brooklyn Heights but I never knew what it was. Well, the scaffolding is off and the historic building has been restored to its former glory. And what a glory it is:
The four-story Queen Anne style building was completed in 1881 and was designed by architect George B. Post. Post’s bold use of extensive terra cotta ornamentation on the façade, and innovative truss system to support the ceiling of the central library, has long been revered by architectural historians. The building’s masonry of unglazed terra cotta and repressed brick was the first building in New York City to use locally produced terra cotta. The facade is adorned with heroic busts of figures from history, sculpted by Olin Levi Warner, interspersed with representations of American flora by Truman H, Bartlett. Post employed artisans in the spirit of the Aesthetic Movement to embellish and enrich the interior spaces of the building. Stained glass in window lunettes and a central laylight are believed to have originated from the studio of the noted glass stainer, Charles Booth. Decorations throughout the building include Minton tile floors, custom made bronze hardware (designed by Post), and elaborately carved black ash woodwork in the library.
It was fun to walk through the exhibit, Brooklyn Works: 400 Years of Making a Living in Brooklyn, with my Brooklyn-born-and-bred mom. She provided a running commentary because she knows just about everything there is to know about Brooklyn. The exhibit tells the story of the working people of Brooklyn — their occupations, the many challenges they faced, their resilience — and how Brooklyn’s workforce contributed to shaping the nation. A must-see show for everyone in Brooklyn, I would also recommend it for tourists.
Afterwards we went upstairs (we skipped the Brooklyn Dodgers’ show which looks great) and discovered the Othmer Library, said to have the most comprehensive collection of Brooklyn-related materials in existence. Here’s an interesting fact: one in seven Americans can trace their family roots to Brooklyn and the Othmer Library was recognized by the U.S. Department of Education as a "major
research library" under Title II-C of the Higher Education Act.
The Othmer Library is a designated interior landmark by the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission. The interior is graced by an ornate wood design of black ash, with carved classical columns and details. Wooden book stacks support a surrounding balcony. The high windows are capped by stained glass lunettes, believed to be from the studio of Charles Booth, a noted Aesthetic Movement designer, active in New York in the 1870′s.
This Wednesday (7/27/05), the public has a chance to enjoy the Othmer Library. As part of the Walt Whitman Sesquicentennial Series, BHS and the Poetry Society of America are pleased to present the last of four readings in commemoration of the 150th anniversary publication of the first edition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. This reading will be done by Nick Flynn, Mary Karr, Pablo Mendina, Dennis Nurkse, and Sapphire. The reading series is being held in conjunction with the BHS’s summer-long exhibition of its three early editions of Whitman’s poem (1856, 1860, 1881-2). Free with admission.
Quotes from the BHS website.
THE SUDDENNESS OF DEATH AND LIFE
New York Daily News writer, Michael Daly, penned this piece about Nicole Sutton, the Brooklyn woman on Wyckoff Street, who was killed by a stray bullet. Her baby managed to survive the assault and was delivered by C-section after the mother’s death.
By yesterday morning, the blood had dried to a dark maroon on the pavement and somebody had tied two red fabric roses to the black metal bench on Wyckoff St.
This was where 33-year-old Nicole Sutton was sitting Friday night, escaping the heat that must have been a particular torment to a woman some six months pregnant.
The place on the bench was her usual spot and as always she had her radio. She was listening to her favorite singer, Mary J. Blige when Joshua Brown came down from watching a movie in the 20th-floor apartment where she lived with her boyfriend.
"She had a blue skirt on, blue shirt," Brown would recall.
Brown had been unable to lock the apartment door when he left and Sutton gave him her key. He rushed back upstairs to lock the door.
"Before somebody comes in the house," Brown would later say. "That’s how easy it is for things to happen around here."
Extell Bids $150 Million vs. Ratner’s $50 Million
A press release from Develop Don’t Destroy Brooklyn:
The Metropolitan Transportation Authority released the two bids on Atlantic yards late Friday afternoon. Extell Development Company has bid $150 million in cash for the MTA’s Vanderbilt Yards (aka Atlantic Yards), while Forest City Ratner Companies (FCRC) has bid $50 million for the same 8.4-acre property. Extell has bid $56 per square foot, while Ratner has bid $15 per square foot. The MTA, also on Friday, appraised the Vanderbilt Yards at $214.5 million.
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_Brooklyn Historical Society
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_Subway Breathing
For at least three years after September 11th, I felt anxious every time I rode on the subway. The first two years after the attacks were the worst. When the train went through the tunnels, I was in suspended animation until we arrived at a station. Then I’d go back into fear mode, holding my breath until we arrived at the next station.
It had something to do with feeling claustrophobic and thinking too much about being stuck underground with a a car full of desperate people. The thought of being blown up was definitely more than I could bear. But I did worry about never seeing my family again.
On numerous occasions I got off the train I was on. One time I jumped off at Bergen Street because there was a police investigation going on there. During the Anthrax scare, a train I was on crawled slowly from Christopher Street to Houston. When we got to Houston I said to the person I was with, "That’s it. I’m not staying on this train."
The subway is, in some ways, the epicenter of our New York lives. It’s terrible to fear the most expedient, democratic and inexpensive form of transportation. We New Yorkers spend a great deal of time underground. It’s like being afraid of your own living room.
I ended up spending way too much on taxis and car services. I avoided going into the city and developed what I would call a form of agoraphobia, the fear of leaving Brooklyn. I really let my fear get to me: I indulged it, I gave into it at every turn. And when you indulge a fear it gets worse and worse. The best way to overcome a phobia is to do the very thing you fear.
For some irrational reason, I felt the safest on the F Train and the most unsafe on the 2 or 3. I couldn’t bear those small stations between Wall Street and Chambers Street. And on the 4 and 5 train, bypassing the World Trade Center station was so eery, so spooky, so strange.
I felt most at risk in Manhattan. When the subway got to Brooklyn I often found myself beginning to relax. And when the train got to Seventh Avenue, I felt a kind of elation; a sense that I had, once again, survived the worst.
But that’s no way to live. As the years passed, the fear started to lift. A meditation practice, which I began in July of 2002, was a big help. Meditation is a wonderful way to relax your body and calm you thinking. It’s my secret weapon against anxiety: I use it on airplanes and and in the dentist chair. I use it to get through the scary moments in my life. Breath in, breath out, I feel myself in the present moment.
Eventually, my fear of the subway susided. I was able to ride on the subway now without thinking of dying in a terrorist attack. Amazing. I can read a book or a magazine, stare into space, people-watch, or just fall asleep on the subway again just like I used to.
The subway is a form of transportation not a death machine.
And then came July 7th. The recent attacks in London (and before that, Madrid) confirmed my worst fears: subway and trains were a natural terrorist target. And yet, I don’t find my fear returning. In fact, the day of the London bombing, I took the subway into Manhattan without worry – I read Paul Auster’s NEW YORK TRILOGY and didn’t think once about dying. I did feel a great deal for those Londoners who, on the way to work one Thursday morning, were blasted to their deaths. It was a public and personal tragedy.
On a rational level, I know that New York’s time will come and I dread it with every fiber of my being but I don’t think I will return to my Brookly agoraphobia, my avoidance of subway trains and Manhattan.
I just can’t bear to live that way anymore. Using meditation is not a way to avoid the sick realities of the world we live in. It just a way to help keep our spirits alive during these terrible times.
Breathing in, I know I am breathing in.
Breathing out, I know I am breathing out.
Breathing in, I notice that my in-breath has become deeper.
Breathing out, I notice that my out-breath has become slower
Breathing in, I calm myself
Breathing out, I feel ease.
Breathing in, I smile.
Breathing out, I release.
Breathing in, I dwell in the present moment.
Breathing out, I feel it is a wonderful moment.
-Thich Nhat Hanh
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_COREY, THE MAN BEHIND THE MYTH
I was pleased as punch to see that Corey, the veteran barista at the Mojo Cafe, has been spending time at OTBKB. In addition to being on friendly terms with most of the parents, caregivers, children and unescorted adults who drink their coffee at the Mojo, Corey is in charge of weekday lunch at the Mojo when many 4th and 5th graders from PS 321 cram into the Mojo for bagels, hot dogs, and Krispy Kreme donuts. He runs a tight ship: insists that the kids throw out their garbage, act respectfully and settle down when necessary. But the kids love him and seem to treasure their Mojo lunch. Corey deserves to be recognized for his firm and caring supervision of those kids.
Seems that he tracked down the posts that compared Park Slope cups of coffee. I know I told Michael, the owner of the Mojo, that OTBKB-Restaurants found Mojo to have one of the 2 or 3 best cups of coffee in the Slope. So maybe Michael told Corey about the blog. Interestingly, Corey is working out a plan to franchise the Mojo. He’s thinking big and looking for interested investors. This guy has plans…
Hey, it’s Corey the man behind the myth. Yes, all of those places like
Starbucks and Conn Muff have inferior coffee. I also believe they have
inferior staffers as well but hey that’s a matter of opinion. Most
people know me as the guy who’s always gonna try and keep you coming
back. If you have kids they probably know me as well. I am currently
working on a way to turn Mojo Cafe into a franchised
commodity. My only problem is: I dont have the financial resources, but
trust me, I’m working on that. So when you hear about the IPO you better
get on the bandwagon.
Clearly, Corey is a man with a dream. And he’s put in the time required to really get to know the coffee/cafe business. At this point, he’s probably earned the equivilant of an MBA in the coffee business. He’s obviously a trusted employee over there and it would be great if he could leverage this experience into his own entrepreneurial venture. Corey, good luck to you.
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_Third Street Suburbia
The people in the building next door have a really snazzy hose that they use to fill up their dinosaur pool. This morning while they were trying to decide whether to reinvigorate their deflated dinosaur, I asked if I could use their hose to fill up the old green turtle pool we keep in the basement. We really need to get a new one. Ten years is a long life for a plastic pool. But it’ll probably make it through one more summer.
The woman next door, a mother of four children, was happy to hand the hose over the iron fence that separates our yards. Amazingly, despite the many taped over holes on the bottom of that green plastic Little Tykes pool, the water stayed in for most of the day. Her kids ended up "swimming" in our pool and the dinosaur never got inflated.
And the kids were keeping cool on Third Street.
The hose was really the hero. What more could you want on such a hot and humid day. In certain neighborhoods, kids still open up fire hydrants to keep cool. But in Park Slope most basements have a hose and sometimes a pool.
The hose inspired lost of play: my daughter and her best friend decided to wash our downstair’s neighbor’s car using that groovy hose. And what a ball they had. It went on for hours – and that’s one clean white car. Dressed in their swimsuits, the girls sprayed and sponged, soaped and polished.
All thanks to that hose. I’ve always thought that hoses were the perfect summer toy for children. And on a day like this, it was the perfect way to keep calm and collected and cool, cool, cool.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
POSTCARD FROM THE SLOPE_NEIGHBORS MOVING
Last night, I found out that a family that lives on our our side of Third Street is moving. I don’t even know their names. I guess I was relieved that they’re moving to Windsor Terrace and not Montclair or somewhere else in New Jersey.
At least it’s Brooklyn. And it’s not that far away
Their daughter will still go to PS 321 so we will see them there. But she is in fifth grade and then she’ll graduate. And then who knows.
I think their daughter looks looks like an interesting girl: long hair, tomboy clothes, smart eyes. They have a baby, too. I think the woman works as a reporter at a business magazine; the man is a scientist. They once had a stoop sale and there were lots of musical insturments, good CDs and books and her mother’s vintage shoes (oops. That was someone else’s stoop sale).
As is my habit, I’ve invented little stories about them. For years I thought he was a musician because of the guitar they sold at the stoop sale. When the baby was born, I thought the woman looked bedraggled and sad when her maternity leave was over and she had to go back to her daily work schedule.
They live in the same building as the drummer in my son’s band: where the band practices, loudly, every Friday night. They are the people who telephoned during one practice; the band got the band all nervous. The drummer’s mother said: "The neighbors are on the phone…" One of the kids took the receiver and the woman said: "That Pixies’s song you’re playing is one of my favortie songs. Play it again."
And so they played the song, "Where is my Mind" again.
Tonight the woman said they’re going to come back and visit and listen to the band from the street. They even told their buyers that there is a band in the building. They’ve been warned.
My son is worried. Worried that the new neighbors will complain about the noise when they practice. He has reason to be concerned.
I am jealous and sad. Jealous because, well, you know me: they can afford to buy a house that will have lots of space, a garden, room for storage. And I’m sad that I won’t see them much anymore. Even though we never talk. Even though I don’t know their names. Even though I don’t really know them at all.
How do you honor the loss of someone you don’t really know but they walk past your stoop day after day and smile? That is a peculiarly New York City kind of loss. Do you just let them go in a New York minute or do you find some special way to say good bye?
I really don’t know. But here goes:
Good bye neighbors. I don’t even know your names. But I liked having you on my side of Third Street. I really did.
NO WORDS_Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
TONIGHT AT BROOKLYN READING WORKS
Brooklyn Reading Works (BRW) started because Mary Warren owned a men’s clothing shop in the south Slope called Fou Le Chakra with a tiny cafe in the back. It seemed like the perfect spot for a small, extremely intimate reading series. I immediately thought up a list of writers to invite and BRW was up and running.
Well, Fou Le Chakra is a thing of the past. The last BRW reading was in May with Susan Karwoska and Marian Fontana, the night before the shop closed. It was a great reading and the joint was packed. Fou Le Chakra went out with a bang.
The very next day, Kim Maier offered the Old Stone House as the new home for Brooklyn Reading Works. In June over 60 people came out to hear Carlton Schade, Lauren Yaffe, and Sophia Romero read their engaging work.
Tonight, OTBKB takes off her blogging shoes and puts on her fiction and poetry ones. I will be reading a story about a Janis Joplin obsessed teenager and a self-abusing Manhattan housewife, as well as some poetry.
Mary Warren is a transplanted southerner who is firmly rooted in Brooklyn. She has a 7-year old son, a shop called Shangri La, and is currently getting certified as a financial planner. A former journalist, she has an MFA from Brooklyn College in creative writing.
I think it’ll be a fun night and I hope to see you there.
At 8 p.m. The Old Stone House is in J.J. Byrne Park on Fifth Avenue between 3rd and 4th Streets. Refreshments. Free. A small donation to the Old Stone House is optional but much appreciated.
Brooklyn Reading Works at the Old Stone House has a full fall schedule of great writers, including Regina McBride, Shelia Kohler, Matthew Zapruder, Nancy Graham, Ellen Ferguson and Cathy Caplan and more Go here for BRW’s fall schedule.
