NO WORDS_DAILY PIX BY HUGH CRAWFORD

NEW POSTMASTER IN BROOKLYN: BETTER SERVICE?

Emily Keller tells us everything you need to know about Brooklyn’s new postmaster in the Brooklyn Courier.

Joseph Chiossone is the new postmaster of the Brooklyn Post Office.    
If you’re sick and tired of waiting in line at your local post office to buy stamps, renew your passport or send a package, the new postmaster of Brooklyn has a suggestion for you: don’t.

Joseph Chiossone, who was officially appointed to the position in early March after acting as Postmaster of Brooklyn on and off for several years, said he plans to decrease lobby wait times by informing customers of services offered by mail, online, and at automated machines within several post office lobbies.

He also plans to make delivery times a little earlier by increasing efficiency.

“Some of the delivery times, I understand, have been a little late. We are trying to work to get all of our mail delivered by 3 or 4 o’clock,” he said.

Chiossone said he plans to increase efficiency by communicating his expectations to current employees better, rather than by increasing staff, which he called adequate. “It’s all about managing people,” he said.

Although Chiossone said he is satisfied overall with the services provided by the Brooklyn Post Office and does not plan to make any drastic changes, he will focus on improving customer service.

“The service in Brooklyn for the most part has been pretty good,” he said, referring to first class, overnight and express service in particular. Of all the letter-sized envelopes dropped in Brooklyn mailboxes each day, 95% will arrive at destinations in Brooklyn the next day, Chiossone said.

However, “We do have pockets of problems,” he admitted. “Our customers know where they are and they let us know…and we naturally strive to improve those.” In particular, he said, “We’re looking to reduce our lobby wait time.”

KIDS AT SODA BAR: YAY OR NAY

Smells like the Stroller Manifesto all over again. Kids and Bars. It seems to arouse a lot of controversy. Over at Daily Heights, they’re having it out about whether kids are taking over Soda Bar, a bar in Prospect Heights.

Why would anyone want to bring your kids to a
bar? wouldn’t the social time be better spent at the park, museum, zoo,
etc. maybe something that is fun for the kid and not just the parents.
bars are dark, kinda dingy with lots of weird strangers who are
drinking. If I were a kid again a bar is the last place I would want to
be. I know you don’t want to give up your social life, but it’s not just about you anymore.

AIDS AWARENESS IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS

Yesterday a letter came home in the Oh So Fiesty One’s (OSFO) backpack from PS 321’s principal, Liz Phillips. In it, she informed the parents that the New York City Department of Education has developed a new HIV/AIDS curriculum for grades k-12. The curriculum is designed to raise awareness about ways to stay healthy and to help develop empathy for people who are ill. OSFO is already a little nervous about these health classes the teachers are talking about. "What am I going to learn in health class," she asked me yesterday. Today, she asked me if the boys and girls were going to be separated when they talk about it. I told her that I didn’t know.

At PS 321, there will be age appropriate lessons that help children children learn about staying  safe, making good choices and being healthy. In the upper grades, HIV/AIDS will be talked about more explicitly. Children will learn in science how the immune system works and will have classroom based lessons on how to resist negative peer pressure.

They will be teaching these lessons as part of the health education and science curriculum in late April and early May. They will also be sending home a blue pamphlet for parents from the Department of Education on HIV/AIDS education.

The schools are holding meetings for parents about the new curriculum. There’s one at PS 321 on April 4, at 8:40 a.m. in the Auditorium to discuss the rationale for the curriculum and the kinds of lessons they will be teaching each grade.

9/11 RECORDINGS RELEASED

From New York 1 about the release of transcripts and recordings of WTC 911 calls on 9/11.

Nearly five years after the World Trade Center attacks, some families have received transcripts and recordings of 911 calls their loved ones made from the doomed towers, a day before the audio recordings are released to the public Friday morning.

Due to the sensitive nature of the tapes and to protect the privacy of the families, only censored versions of the tapes will be released to the public. Only operators and dispatchers will be heard, with the callers’ voices muted out.

The recordings are the result of the three-year-long lawsuit involving a group of nine families who lost loved ones on September 11, 2001.

They argue the tapes are an integral part of piecing together what happened on the day of the attacks.

The New York Times requested the names of the callers be audible on the public tapes in those cases where the dispatcher said the name aloud. A judge ruled in favor of the Times on Wednesday, but the city is appealing that decision.

ZUZU’S IS BLOOMING

I walked past the site of the old Zuzu’s Petals on Seventh Avenue between Union and Berkeley Place and saw what I think is a new laminated sign (okay it’s been there for six months – I didn’t notice).

There have been signs on that storefront ever since a fire forced Zuzu’s out of their longtime location. Here’s the latest missive from those lovely Zuzu ladies. On top of the note there was a movie still from "It’s a Wonderful Life."

While I was jotting down the words, one of my neighbors, a reader of OTBKB, walked by. We read the note together and she told me about a rose she bought at Zuzu’s that lasted two weeks. TWO WEEKS. I told her about the two dozen roses I got at Key Food that were THORNY and lasted ONE DAY. ONE. Moral of this story: Get your roses at Zuzu’s.

This is the scene from "It’s a Wonderful Life" when George Bailey fixes his daughter’s Zuzu’s damaged fose and tucks the broken petal in her pocket.

Since August 26th 2004, the day of the fire that cost us our home of 33 years, we have focused all our energy on rebuilding and restoring our showp, our business, our lives with the help of so many loving friends.

The morning after the fire, we posted a note here which asked what we learned. There have been many lessons. But these are perhaps the most important:

Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.

The love you take is equal to the love you make.

There is much to be said for the kindness of strangers and the loyalty of old friends.

We count ourselves lucky for being part of the Park Slope community. Because of that, Zuzu’s Petals blooms again. Perhpas better than ever.

SMARTMOM: Cupcakes are on my Mind

The folks at the Brooklyn Papers say it’s okay to post my Smartmom columns on OTBKB. So here goes last week’s column about cupcakes. Cupcake photo by NYCnosh.

The Oh So Feisty One’s ninth birthday is here — and that means it’s time to make the cupcakes.

Homemade cupcakes for the classroom birthday party? Who’s kidding whom? It’s a rare mom in Park Slope who makes those cupcakes from scratch anymore.

Smartmom’s friend JollyBeMom is that rare mom — but then again, she’s a professional baker whose luscious chocolate cupcakes are to die for. Not every mom can bake a cake that looks like Chartes Cathedral.

But like everything else in the Slopeosphere, cupcakes are fraught with socio/political and psychological meaning.

They have, in fact, become synonymous with good mothering.

Trouble is, for the vast majority of moms — those who work full-time, parent full-time, volunteer full-time or juggle it all — classroom birthday parties mean Duncan Hines Devil’s Food Cake mix, Betty Crocker frosting, and a smattering of red dye #5 sprinkles, prepared in a kitchen still stacked with dirty dinner dishes. Gross.

Betty Crocker frosting is so sickeningly sweet that five out of five dentists don’t recommend it, even for their patients who like lousy frosting.

But it’s so easy.

To say that Smartmom was in denial about this year’s cupcakes would be a vast understatement. So busy was she working on an assignment for Dumb Editor that there were no cupcakes dancing in her head — until the day before the party.

When, she wondered, would she have time to make those cupcakes?

Smartmom tried to reach Hepcat at the Edgy Computer Startup, but he gave her a quick “gottagorightnowbye” and said he’d call her right back.

Desperate, Smartmom called Harried Harriet, who regaled Smartmom with tales of what happened last year.

“At 2:30 on the day of the party, I was hurtling down Eighth Avenue in my Volvo with cupcakes on the passenger seat.” She was stopped by cop in front of Saint Saviour’s church (God help her), who accused her of bypassing a school bus that was discharging kids.

“He threatened to give me a ticket. I didn’t say anything about the cupcakes — how could I?”

Heart racing and slightly traumatized, Harried Harriet arrived at the school with seconds to spare. “It was fairly ironic, when you think about it: I had endangered the lives of children on a school bus in order to get to my daughter’s classroom in time to deliver cupcakes.”

There’s got to be another way. So Smartmom called Designer Mom, who’s always good for a time-saving parenting tip. “I get mine at Two Little Red Hens,” she said. “I can’t make them as well as they do. Plus, I’ve got better things to do.”

But then her voice changed and she said with barely concealed bitterness: “But last year, Thrifty Mom looked at them scornfully and said, ‘Jeez that must have cost you a bundle.’”

Indeed, there is a stigma attached to bringing bakery-made cupcakes to class. In private school, it’s downright unthinkable, according to Smartmom’s emissaries from Berkeley Carroll, where the rule seems to be: the more money a parent spends on tuition, the more time she is expected to spend baking.

Thank goodness OSFO and Teen Spirit went to public schools, where it is acceptable to use a cake mix — or even bring cupcakes from Costco.

Late Thursday afternoon, Smartmom decided once and for all that she was going to get OSFO’s cupcakes at Two Little Red Hens, but when Smartmom broke the news, OSFO looked stricken. She loves to spread that canned Betty Crocker frosting — high in transfats — onto hot, just-baked cupcakes.

But Smartmom wasn’t about to bow to a 9-year-old. Nonetheless, she slept fitfully that night, fearful that Two Little Red Hens would be sold out when she showed up the next morning. What happens if some other mom swoops and grabs the entire stock of miniatures?

At 8 am, Smartmom and OSFO took Eastern Car Service to Two Little Red Hens and asked the driver to wait. To her great relief, there was a full tray of miniature cupcakes behind the bakery glass. White cake with white frosting and rainbow sprinkles, they were a veritable bargain at $1.50 each. Feeling like a birthday sport, Smartmom ordered 30.

Spending $45 dollars on cupcakes was a pittance compared with a phone-therapy session. When they got to OSFO’s classroom, one of her teachers saw the label and squealed, “That’s my favorite bakery in the world! I can’t wait.”

These are for you, Smartmom said. God knows you must be sick to death of Duncan Hines.

Smartmom held her head high, vindicated and proud. This wasn’t about being too busy to bake. This wasn’t about childhood neglect or not being a good-enough mother.

Hers was a crusade to save the teachers and children from the curse of the Duncan Hines Devil’s Food mix and the gloppy Betty Crocker frosting.

Or that’s at least what she told herself.

SHOE LAMENT

A blogger I know and love (Laments of the Unfinished) had this to say about shoe addiction, and the ways she is and isn’t similar to Carrie Bradshaw.

I think I have an addiction to shoes. I’ve always loved shoes, but when
I found myself online looking at shoes after midnight the other night,
I realized that perhaps it’s time for me to get some help.

I’m no Imelda
Marcos or Carrie Bradshaw (or GlamourGirlVIP who had to insure her shoe
collection when she shipped them back to London), but I just rearranged
my shoes and while I have an entire shoe rack of black shoes, I have no
intention of stopping.

Or I said I’d stop when I came to this
realization, but then I saw a pair of white leather wedge slide sandals
on sale until the 17th and I just have to get those (actually, in the
process of writing this blog, I went ahead and bought them).

Now
some of you might ask, "how many shoes does one woman need?" Well, I’ll
tell you. You need as many shoes as you need to fit the occasion. For
instance, from my black shoe rack:

patent leather heels – classic and must haves
leather heels – classic and must haves
sling-backs – classic and must haves
a 2nd pair of sling-backs – classic, but maybe not a must have
Louis VI suedes from high school – different and I still wear them
spectator sling-backs – classic, sexy and professional
spectator suede slides – cute, and I had a gift certificate
ballet flats – needed walking shoes
thong heels – never know when you’ll be on a dinner boat in SF
leather casual slides – cute and casual
formal satin shoes – they’re formal
heeled sandals – they’re sandals
sturdy black flats – they’re sturdy and flat
platform boots – classic
non-platform boots – classic
mens-styled lace-up platform shoes – just for the hell of it

As
for the non-black shoes, I need something to spice up my extensively
black wardrobe. You also have to have a variety of heel styles because
even the classics change every decade or so. You’ve got to make sure
you aren’t wearing thick heels in a thin heel decade (I’ve been wearing
the same shoe size since the 5th grade, so I’ve had time to think about
these things).

Also, you mustn’t confuse shoe addiction with
shopping addiction. I am not a shop-a-holic. In fact, one of the many
reasons I love shoes is that they’re easy to buy. You either like them
or you don’t. They either fit or they don’t. You either have use for
them or you don’t. And many, many shoes are just like a work of art for
your feet.

I discussed this problem with my friend Kryss last
night and I think I’m using my unused sexual energy to buy shoes (just
go with me here). I’m not addicted to chocolate, so maybe I’m seeking
that "high" in another way. It’s gotta go somewhere, right?

Carrie and
I have, actually, pretty similar lives except for the sex part and the
fact that the fictional character managed to find a pretty sweet
apartment on the upper East Side, while I have a crackhead living on my
stoop. You could call my life Sexless and the City. I got the City and
the shoes, but that’s about it – well and God, of course. God, Shoes
and the City.

And I know I’m not supposed to even be thinking about sex
(perish the thought!) or being sexy, but the secret is out. I need to
feel sexy even when the only guy looking at me is the neighborly
crackhead. So what else am I supposed to do when I need to feel pretty
and the last available pair is in my size and on sale?

SHOPSIN’S: MORTON STREET MEMORIES

Boy, do I know Shopsin’s. And New York Magazine says that West Village restaurant moving to  Carroll Gardens after 24 years in the Village. That’s what I call Big Brooklyn News. (Picture by nycnosh.)

Not suprisingly, the owner refused to be interviewed for the New York Magazine story and told the reporter: "Why don’t you make something fucking up. That’s what you’re going to do anyway."  I think that’s Kenny Shopsin’s  motto when it came to reporters.

That place is so idiosyncratic and famous there’s even documentary about it called "I Like Killing Flies."

Back in the 1980’s I worked in an  office on Morton Street. At first I didn’t know what to make of this restaurant on the corner of Morton and Bedford that was frequently closed and looked like a vintage luncheonette or grocery store.

But it wasn’t a luncheonette at all. First of all, if you tried to get your morning coffee there they’d look at you funny — they were only open doing prep work for lunch. You could sit and have a cup if you want. "But we don’t bag it or anything,"  Mrs. Shopsin said.

The place was run by a strange, somewhat gregarious, rolypoly man named Kenny Shopsin, who usually wore a grease-stained t-shirt and a white apron (also dirty), and his wife. The menu was many pages long and it featured something like 900 items and about 100 soups. How, I wondered, could they have so many soups (and entrees) every day? It was a mystery. It really was a vast menu and the food was really interesting running the gamut from American comfort, breakfast, dinery-lunchy, to dinner entrees of their own invention.

One thing I remember vividly. Instead of caps on the ketchup bottles, there were plastic dinosaur figurines plugged into the bottles.

Another thing, Kenny didn’t like tourists much. So, if he saw a bunch of tourists approaching the restaurant he’d run over to the door and say, "Sorry, we’re closed." as he put the Closed sign up.

I know the place had a lot of regulars and celebs. People you’d recognize, people you wouldn’t. It was really an institution down there on Morton Street – one of the great streets in the West Village. They moved to Bedford and Carmine Street. I never went – I couldn’t wrap my head around the new, more modern location.

Wonder where they’re moving to in Carroll Gardens? Anyone know? A Brooklyn Life – yoo hoo.

Also here are Ruth Reichl and Eric Asimov on Shopsin’s:

The menu is encyclopedic, the soups are spectacular and the welcome is eccentric. It’s been a Village hangout for years, and the owners, who would just as soon it stayed that way, are wary of strangers. – Ruth Reichl (4/98)

You’re not likely to find a stranger restaurant in New York than Shopsin’s, housed in an old general store. Kenny Shopsin, the chef and owner with his wife, are as likely to yell at you as look at you, especially if they don’t like your attitude. The food is as quirky as the owners, with many of Shopsin’s own pancake and soup inventions. Sometimes they are good, sometimes not so good, but portions are always huge. – Eric Asimov (4/98)
-The New York Times

MORE ON SHOPSINS FROM THE DAILY NEWS

NOW THE DAILY NEWS HAS THE SHOPSIN’S STORY. IT’S AN ONLY IN NEW YORK KIND OF THING. WEST VILLAGE RESTAURANT MOVES TO BROOKLYN: BIG NEWS

Shopsin’s, the West Village diner made famous for its 900-item menu and odd rules, such as no more than four to a table, could be hauling its celeb-studded digs to Carroll Gardens.

"You’re right – I’m thinking about moving to Brooklyn," owner and chef Kenny Shopsin told the Daily News. "I don’t know what else to tell you."

Shopsin and his wife, Eve, are reportedly considering the move because of skyrocketing rent at their 34-seat Carmine St. digs, where they’ve been serving oddball entrees like the "sausage walnut potato volcano" since 2002.

But when asked about a West Village rent hike, Shopsin insisted his decision wasn’t based on money.

"My landlord is a fair and honest businessperson, and I have a good lease," said Shopsin, 63, who enforces a strict ban on cell phones. "That’s all. That’s it."

When pressed for his reason for considering a move to Brooklyn, Shopsin would only say: "Two of my five children live in Brooklyn and are happy there. When I visit them, I feel pretty good too."

For more than two decades, diners have poured into Shopsin’s as much for the spinach walnut pancakes as for notables like Lizzie Grubman, Drew Barrymore and her rocker boyfriend Fabrizio Moretti.

But if Shopsin decides to leave Manhattan, he won’t have to do it at the expense of his celebrity clientele. Besides Barrymore, who told New York magazine she would follow Shopsin, Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams have been spotted dining out near their Dean St. home.

"We’ve got plenty of them living around here," said South Brooklyn Local Development Corp. President Bette Stoltz of the notable names in the neighborhood. "Between the movie stars and the literati, we’re doing okay."

The move wouldn’t be Shopsin’s first. Four years ago, he moved to his current digs after a rent hike at his original spot around the corner on Morton St. But on Smith St., where fine dining is the norm, the soup-and-sandwich joint might not make the cut, one local predicted.

Shopsin’s "used to be a legend when it had this perfect little corner spot," sniffed Saul Bolton, owner of Smith St. eatery Saul. "It’s a grimy, moldy, musty place where they make food out of a can. I wouldn’t be interested in going there now. Even if it was my neighbor."

Right now, Shopsin’s only immediate connection to Brooklyn seemed to be a beef gumbo and poached egg combination on the menu named for writer Truman Capote, who lived in Brooklyn Heights.

POETRY SHOP CHANGES HANDS

This piece in the Times by Lawrence Van Gelder about a famous poetry bookshop in Cambridge, Mass. caught my eye. Where do YOU buy your poetry books?

The Grolier Poetry Book Shop in
Harvard Square, the oldest poetry
bookstore in the United States, is
about to change hands for the second
time in eight decades, Publishers
Weekly reported. The influential
store, opened in 1927 and a favorite of
poets including E. E. Cummings,
T. S. Eliot and Marianne Moore, has
been sold to
Ifeanyi Mentiki,
a professor of
philosophy at
Wellesley College.
He is also a
poet whose most
recent collection,
"Of Altai,
the Bright
Light," was published
last year by Earthwinds Editions.
"The store has meant a lot to so
many of us," he said. "I wanted to
make sure it continued." The sale, by
Louisa Solano, who owned the store
for 31 years, was prompted by her ill
health and will become final tomorrow.
"I’m going to catch up on 30
years of sleep," Ms. Solano said.

BRIDGE RALLY TO PROTEST CHANGES TO IMMIGRATION POLICIES

According to New York 1, 50,000 people are expected to make their way over
the Brooklyn Bridge Saturday as part of a nationwide rally over
proposed changes to the nation’s immigration policies.

Lawmakers on Capitol Hill are weighing three proposals, including
one that would make illegal immigrants eligible for work. Another
proposal focuses on border security.

Already there are major differences of opinion as the debate rages
both inside the Senate and beyond. A version of the bill has been
passed by the House.

TRILLIN ON SHOPSIN’S

Ah yes. I remember when the great Calvin Trillin wrote a piece about Shopsin’s in the New Yorker. That was April 2002 if I recall…

I’ve excerpted it here from the New Yorker’s fun website. This may help you see why so many of us are buzz buzz buzzing about the fact that this storied (and quirky) West Village restaurant is coming to Carroll Gardens. Part of the fascination is just imagining Kenny Shopsin and his wife actually leaving Bedford Street. Crossing the bridge. Taking the subway? (Blueberry French Toast pix by Roboppy).

      
      
      

NO WORDS_DAILY PIX BY HUGH CRAWFORD

I HATE TO ADMIT I AM WRONG…

Does everyone have as hard a time as I do admitting that they are wrong?

Last night lying in bed before we fell asleep, Hepcat and I had a much-needed talk. Both of us are so busy, sometimes we don’t discuss anything beyond logistics for days. But I could tell he was upset. As events unfolded over the last few days, he sometimes had a long, sad look on his face.   I could tell that he was troubled by what was going on. More specifically, he was troubled by MY role in all of this.

I was, needless to say, defensive at first. I hate to hear criticism, especially if it’s true. HATE IT. It was hard for me to really own up to my role in all of this.  But Hepcat was determined to show me that I was responsible in some way. He was not being unkind just honest.

First, he asked me if I thought it was wrong for the  woman to put the man’s name on the flyer. I said: YES.

YES. IT WAS WRONG.

He followed with: "Then it was wrong of you to mention the flyer, the name of our street, the fact that there was an accused child molester. By doing so, you attracted the attention of the news media and inadvertantly turned this into a more public story than it needed to be."

YES. I WAS WRONG.

SOBERING. It’s sobering when your spouse tells you something you don’t want to believe but the more you think about it you have to admit is true. It’s also maddening when your SPOUSE is SO RIGHT.

GUILT. Yes, I feel guilty, too.

On Saturday morning – a personal story and a potentially very public story converged. I opted to tell the story of the flyer (from my usual "this is my life" point-of-view) without realizing that it would alert the news media to the situation. Sometimes OTBKB is me thinking out loud — my thought process online. Well, that’s not always appropriate and this situation bears that out. It’s the emotional truth I’m after but sometimes facts seep in that don’t deserve
such wide exposure. The sign was more or less public but only public on this block and probably shouldn’t have been blogged to the world.

At first I said, I didn’t know the editor of the Daily News reads this blog. But a friend who knows about these sorts of things said, "Of course he reads your blog, all the editors do."

Usually all they could hope to find on OTBKB was small, anecdotal stories about the neighborhood zeitgeist. Quality of life stuff. But on Saturday they saw something in OTBKB a bit more tantalizing AND POSSIBLY VERY DAMAGING TO A MAN, A WOMAN AND A YOUNG GIRL WHO LIVE NEAR HERE.

IT WAS A STORY THAT WOULD SELL NEWSPAPERS.

Hepcat, you are right. I inadvertantly did something that has ramifications way beyond my original intent. I didn’t think it through. The personal and the public converged and I forgot to think AND I didn’t realize how public this blog really is.

In other words: I wasn’t thinking. And I owe everyone who has been hurt by this a profuse apology.

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