There’s a joke in Park Slope that you can’t walk more than a block without running into someone to talk to. These intermittent sidewalk conversations can turn a quick shopping run to Seventh Avenue a time-consuming adventure.
Many a Slope kid knows the feeling. "Mom, let’s get GOING," they might whine as they pull a parent from a conversation that’s gone on way too long.
My daughter has been known to say: "Now that’s the last person you’re going to stop and talk to…"
On spring weekends, when Seventh Avenue is bustling and stoop sitting is a major activity: this is truer than true. For instance, a walk down Third Street toward Fifth Avenue can mean more than one conversational stop at various stoops
Just yesterday I stopped to chat with friends who have an 8-month old baby (see above) Standing in front of their brownstone, I asked to hold their baby — partly to get a feeling for waht Svetlana, the Russian baby girl my sister is going to adopt, must feel like. They were more than happy to oblige and asked lots of questions about my sister’s Russian sojourn.
There are many people in the neighborhood who have been following Svetlana’s adoption. It’s interesting how sharing of information can create a small community of well-wishers. Two women in particular have been my Seventh Avenue support squad. They both have adopted children and every time I see them they say, "How’s your sister?" When they heard that she was finally in Russia they swelled with excitement. Intimately understanding the experience, they’ve been full of information and good energy.
Sometimes a quick outing can mean multiple conversations about multiple topics: one might be about high school and the ubiquitous: "So where is he/she going next year?" This usually leads to a long shared SIGH about the loathsome public high school admissions process.
Other conversations might be about real estate; a new restaurant (Have you been to Song?, How about Miracle Grill?); the Atlantic yards debacle (So what do you think about it?); a community walk through Kensington on May 22nd (Can you put it on your blog?); Is Hugh still taking portraits at Fou Le Chakra (When’s the next one?); Can your daughter have a playdate next week…
Sometimes all the conversations merge together and I can’t remember who said what. I have so much local information in my brain – just sort of swimming around.
But I love the verbal connectivity. Love the way this neighborhood has the feel of a college campus or a small town. Yes, it can be a tad dizzying at times; downright distracting. And perhaps it means that Park Slopers tend toward the fashionably late. I have friends who take Sixth Avenue or Eighth instead of Seventh just to avoid the constant interaction.
But more often than not I look forward to it. It adds an unexpected dimension to a banal task like picking up orange juice and milk:
Who will I see today? And what will they have to say?