BEN GREENMAN READING AT BARNES AND NOBLE

Get a free compass at Ben Greenman’s reading at the Barnes and Noble in Park Slope. Yeah, that right: a compass.

Nothing fancy, mind you. Just a dime store compass: a handy thing to have when you need ind your way…

He gave out purple balloons at the last reading at the Community Bookstore. Now he’s gonna give you a compass because the book is called, "A Circle is a Balloon and Compass Both."

Just kidding. Just kidding. But the book, a collection of short stories, is supposed to be funny and smart.

But I’m not kidding about the reading at the Park Slope Barnes and Noble on Thursday, July 12 at 7:30 pm.

EXPLORING BROOKLYN BY BUS: GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD GRAYSON

Richard Grayson is the author of "To Think He Kissed Him on Lorimar Street" and "I Brake for Delmore Schwartz," as well as other collections of essays.

The issue of Brooklyn College alumni magazine that arrived last
week contained an article by Richard M. Sheridan, "Their Avenue of
Dreams: Brooklyn’s Polyglot Highway of Tolerance," about how BC
Sociology Professor Emeritus Jerome Krase and two colleagues propose to
continue their study of Coney Island Avenue and explore how the
different ethnic populations of that "polyglot highway of tolerance"
have managed to create a harmonious relationship among themselves.
It
reminded me of a 2004 front-page article in the New York Times, "On
Brooklyn’s Avenue of Babel, Cultures Entwine," which featured my old
buddy from BC in the early 70s, Eloy Cruz-Bizet, whom it described
(accurately) as looking "a little like a mulatto Allen Ginsberg," and
who makes use of his fluent Russian, French, Haitian Creole, Spanish
and English in the Coney Island Avenue printing business with his
partnerfrom Pakistan.  Even as a teenager, Eloy was friends with
everyone.   

Both
the Times article and Prof. Krase described the B68 bus as the perfect
vehicle for observing the multicultural thoroughfare.  Since I moved
back to Brooklyn a year ago, I’ve been trying to recreate my feat
(okay, neurotic obsessive compulsion) to ride every bus line in the
borough, but I’d been on the Coney Island Avenue bus only for some
relatively short hops, not the entire length of the street. 
 

I thought I’d rectify that on Saturday morning, so at 8 a.m. I started
out for the northern reaches of the B68, figuring I’d get off the F
train at 15th Street for the start of the route at Bartel Pritchard
Square or at Fort Hamilton Parkway to get to the start of Coney Island
Avenue proper by the Parade Grounds.   

 
But
due to weekend service changes, the F had decided to become the express
train everyone wants it to be, and after Seventh Avenue, it skipped the
next two stops and didn’t halt till Church Avenue.  Rather than go
backwards, I decided to get out and walk to Coney Island Avenue, or as
we oldtimers mysteriously refer to it, CIA.  Even us Brooklyn natives
can always learn something new, and until Saturday I had no idea that
Beverley (or Beverly, depending on what subway line you’re riding)
Road, parallel to Church Avenue for most of the way, actually
intersects with Church near McDonald.

There
was a bus stop at CIA and Church, just where Albemarle Road begins, and
out of curiosity, I walked down the street to see the first house,
which I’d remembered as an elegant Victorian Flatbush "mansion" where I
had weekly sessions with my psychiatrist from age 15 to 18 in the days
of the Summer of Love and Woodstock. 

Sadly, the house was in a
terrible state of disrepair,with peeling paint and hedges overgrowing
the path that led to the addition that was the doctor’s office, filled
with African masks and next to the hothouse where he kept his beloved
orchids.  Somewhat more incredibly, the faded "Dr. LIPPMAN" nameplate
was on the door.  Abbott A. Lippman, M.D., a pretty orthodox Freudian,
graduated NYU Medical School shortly after World War I and was an old
man crippled by arthritis even when I was his patient.  He must be dead
for at least a quarter of a century.

I
ran to catch the bus, one of the little squarish hybrids, and got a
window seat in the raised portion in the back.  Soon I could see, amid
the auto repair shops and double-parked vans, the diversity of the
street, told in its signs: the Jerusalem Palace, Pak-o-Hind Groceries,
"authentic" Chinese and Mexican restaurants, glatt kosher and halal
pizzerias, Turkish insurance agents, Bukharian bakeries, Italian ices
stands, a Chabad "Jewish Center" right next door to an "Islamic Center"
and day care center.  Signs were in Hebrew, Arabic, Yiddish, Urdu,
Spanish, Chinese, Russian, Turkish, Hindi, Punjabi and some languages I
couldn’t recognize.

As
the bus made its way south, with most cross-streets the lettered
avenues of southern Brooklyn, the neighborhood changed as Coney Island
Avenue made its way through the edges of Flatbush, Midwood, Kings
Highway, Sheepshead Bay, Homecrest, Gravesend and finally Brighton
Beach.  But the Orthodox Jewish, South Asian, Chinese, Latino (mostly
Mexican and Central American), Turkish, Slavic, and Arab stores and
businesses were never that far apart and often would be standing side
by side.

I was glad to see a revival in the
Pakistani community around Avenue I (the building on that street where
I took drivers’ education classes at the Yeshivah of Flatbush from my
Midwood H.S. economics teacher Mr. Mandel seems to have been
demolished).  After 9/11, residents were subject to harassment and many
fled back to Pakistan, but the immigrant community seems to be thriving
once again.

My
fellow bus riders reflected the diversity of the avenue.  My seatmate
wore the hajib and modest dress of a moderately observant Muslim woman;
we sat behind an elderly black lady and a Chinese teenager; a boy was
talking in Russian on his cell phone ("Da," he kept saying); and a
(married?) couple seemed to be having una disputa en espanol.  On the
street Orthodox familes were walking to Shabbos services and I could
hear the hip-hop music blasting from someone’s Lexxus.

I
passed some sites that I had personal associations with: the co-op
building of my friend Paul Schickler, who was my editor at the Brooklyn
College student government newspaper, where I stayed overnight after
attending my first Cyclones game; among the avenue’s many monument
makers and funeral chapels, my childhood friend Billy Sherman’s
family’s funeral parlor (I remember there was a "hot line" to the
mortuary in Billy’s basement), where I’d paid last respects to lots
of greata-unts and great-uncles; the 61st Precinct house, origination
point of the cops who came to investigate the considerable number of
times our family’s cars were stolen (sometimes with our, uh, knowledge,
but occasionally unexpectedly); my friend Stephen LiMandri’s house,
where his 14-year-old brother Joey decorated his bedroom with cut-out
pictures from Playboy Magazine; the Kings Highway store of my father’s
menswear customer Judd, who owed Dad so much money I was told to go
there and buy every item of clothing I wanted (I got a black leather
jacket that made me look so thuggish that elderly people wouldn’t get
on the elevator alone with me); and the only place near Coney Island
Avenue that I ever lived, off Avenue Z, on the next block, East 11th
Street, where I got to spend the summer of 1981 in my brother’s
basement after he had to hide out in his girlfriend’s parents’ house
due to an unfortunate dispute with a rival cocaine dealer (luckily some
Cubans shot my brother’s tormentor in the face and my brother decided
to move into a less lucrative, but more legal, line of work). 
And
after Avenue Z, with no more letters in the alphabet, the bus made its
way over the Belt Parkway and emerged in Brighton Beach (did you know
that there are streets named Brighton 10th Street, Court, Terrace,
Drive and Lane?), the Cyrillic signs and Russian stores announcing that
it was time for me to get off under the Brighton el in Little Odessa
and walk the last block of Coney Island Avenue to the boardwalk, beach
and Atlantic Ocean, passing elderly babushkas sitting out in their
folding chairs, two men talking Mandarin, and Hispanic workers eating
off of paper plates on the sidewalk outside the YMHA.  At a Brooklyn
College peace march in 1969, I’d carried what I thought was a whimsical
sign: ESCALATE THE BRIGHTON STATION, NOT THE VIETNAM WAR.  Well, they
finally took my advice.  I roamed the avenue and the boardwalk in
search of the perfect knish and strong tea. 
In a lot less than a hour, I’d covered a lot of the world.  And after a day at the beach, the bus ride back was even more fun. 
–Richard Grayson

AU CONTRAIRE: GUEST BLOGGER PETER LOFFREDO

A guest blog by Peter Loffredo.

I have
often considered that the reason so many cultures have traditional
blessings before eating meals was to aid in digestion. Entering into a
state of gratitude before a meal helps not only the enjoyment of food,
but the absorption of it and healthy use by the body of the nutrients.
Dr. Paul Rozin conducted a study of the attitudes towards food by the
French and Americans, and ade the link between guilt and anxiety about
food and obesity. Makes sense to me. Here are some excerpts from a
Times article on Rozin’s study:

"An American researcher is offering a possible new explanation for why
the French eat a diet richer than that of Americans, yet seem to suffer
fewer health consequences.

Where other researchers have offered reasons ranging from genetic
differences to the red wine that often accompanies foie gras, Dr. Paul
Rozin, a psychology professor at the University of Pennsylvania,
suggests that it may all come down to one’s state of mind. Simply put:
Could it be that if you think of that ice cream sundae you’re about to
wolf down as your friend — and not your vanquisher — you might be the
healthier for it?

"There is a sense among many Americans that food is as much a poison as
it is a nutrient, and that eating is almost as dangerous as not
eating," Rozin writes in a recent issue of the journal Appetite.

Rozin bases his theory on a survey he and his associates did of more
than 1,000 people, mostly in America and France, but also in Belgium
and Japan. Researchers questioned people at railroad stations and
airports and college students. They found that the French — only 4
percent of whom are said to follow diets in line with the American
recommended guidelines for fat intake — associate eating more with
pleasure than with health. Americans, on the other hand (and, overall,
women in all countries), not only associate food with nutrition but
worry about it, too. The Belgians and the Japanese tend to fall in the
middle.

"It is not unreasonable to assume," Rozin writes, "that when a major
aspect of life becomes a stress and source of substantial worry, as
opposed to a pleasure, effects might be seen in both cardiovascular and
immune systems."

In the end, the study may amount to little more than further evidence
that reducing stress — whether about food or anything else — is good
for one’s health. It is well established that a positive mental outlook
may not only ward off illness but even help bring about a cure. Still,
if nothing else, the article provides yet another illustration of how
Americans and the French differ over matters of the stomach.

To gauge people’s attitudes toward food and health, the researchers asked some two dozen questions.

Those interviewed were queried, for example, about which word they
associated with ice cream: delicious or fattening. About 31 percent of
Americans chose fattening, compared with fewer than 22 percent of the
French.

They were also given the words bread, pasta and sauce, and asked to
pick the one that did not belong. The French, presumably appalled at
the notion of dry noodles, generally gave the boot to the bread; a
somewhat higher number of Americans, dutifully grouping together their
carbohydrates, dispensed with the sauce.

People were even asked whether they would take a daily pill instead of
eating if it would safely satisfy their hunger and nutritional needs.
About 26 percent of the Americans said they would, more than twice the
percentage of French.

Rozin, who specializes in the psychology of food (his past work
includes trying to explain the near-mystical allure of chocolate and
why cultures differ on which foods are considered edible and which are
beyond the pale), said any number of cultural differences like income
and religion, which people were not queried about, could help explain
the differing attitudes, as well.

He also acknowledged that the "French paradox" — as the disparity
between France’s rich diet and general good health is often called —
will not be embraced by mainstream American nutrition experts to rush
to embrace his theory. "A good part of the American health community is
out to nail foods as good or bad for you," he said.
Rozin remains steadfast.
"
I really feel that there’s an important message to get to people," he said. "And that’s that they can enjoy good food."

BROOKLYN BLOGGING IN THE TIMES

Here’s an excerpt from Greg Beyer’s New York Times’ article about Brooklyn bloggers. Titled Cracker-Barrel 2.0, it was in Sunday’s City section:

ONE Monday morning, on the way to her office in the basement of the
Montauk Club in Park Slope, Louise Crawford passed a man staring up at
a tree. Lingering for a moment, she asked him what was so interesting.

It turned out that a yellow-throated songbird known as a Nashville warbler, in its northward
migration, had made a pit stop in the neighborhood and was perched on a
branch.

Not exactly a lunar landing. And even on a slow news
day, the warbler’s arrival seemed unlikely to attract the attention of
the news media. But Ms. Crawford, who writes a Park Slope-focused blog,
Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn, and whose role in the borough’s blogging
family most closely resembles that of the nurturing matriarch, was
elated.

“It’s a good story,” she said. “It’s an exclusive.”
Later that day, the post went up: a short account of the human
encounter and the bird sighting, tinged with Ms. Crawford’s
recollection of her father, an amateur ornithologist, taking her as a
child to Central Park on bird-watching excursions.

Such musings,
embroidered with the personal, are a critical element of “placeblogs”
like Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn, whose writers frequently and
sometimes obsessively punch point-of-view histories into their laptops
to yield sites that document everything from a neighborhood’s
significant quakes to its slightest tremors.

Or, as Placeblogger.com,
a Web site that promotes and tracks blogs with a hyperlocal focus, put
it: “Placeblogs are about the lived experience of a community, some of
which is news and some of which isn’t.”

In the past year, the
word Bloglyn has been cropping up a lot, a reflection of the fact that
Brooklyn, particularly brownstone Brooklyn, has emerged as possibly the
center of the placeblog world. Web forums serve as virtual town hall
meetings (complete with hecklers), and bloggers peer with equal
interest at controversial development projects, restaurant openings and
the most minute of neighborhood minutiae.

After tracking blogs in
about 3,000 American neighborhoods for six months, a study released
this year by the Web site Outside.in declared Clinton Hill the
“bloggiest” neighborhood in America.

No other Brooklyn
neighborhoods made the top 10. The people conducting the survey
acknowledged, however, that Brooklyn neighborhoods could have taken up
a lot of space on the list; as if wary of placing an entire ball club’s
roster on the all-star team at the expense of the rest of the league,
they chose Clinton Hill for the No. 1 slot but omitted the others. And
as Steven Berlin Johnson of Park Slope, a creator of Outside.in,
explained, in terms of socioeconomic makeup, the national top 10 and
the Brooklyn top 10 look a lot alike.

“On a per capita basis,”
said Robert Guskind, founder of the year-old blog Gowanus Lounge, which
he says gets 85,000 page views per month, “we have more bloggers than
any other part of the city, and more than anywhere that I know of. More
than in Manhattan, and way more than in Queens.” Mr. Guskind, who is
also the Brooklyn editor of Curbed.com, said he was not aware of any placeblogs in Staten Island or the Bronx.

Ms. Crawford is typical of the breed of individuals running these quirky byways of the information highway.

In
accordance with the unwritten rules of placeblogging, Ms. Crawford
considers her three-year-old blog an “informal portal” with no pretense
of objectivity and, by definition, an automatic interest in anything
that ever happens in or relating to Park Slope. This is why she
welcomes e-mail tips from readers sharing observations like “I think I
heard a gunshot” or questions like “What was that smell last night?”
For Ms. Crawford and her audience, absolutely nothing is too trivial.

The
quirks of her own life reflect her postage stamp of home turf. Ms.
Crawford, a mother of two, writes a parenting column called Smartmom
for The Brooklyn Paper, and observations on education and child-rearing
factor prominently in her blog. In a recent entry on her daughter’s
fifth-grade graduation ceremony at Public School 321, she wrote:
“Graduations. Parties. They’re going on all over the city. These are
the milestone moments that require Kleenex and a strong margarita
afterwards.”

Inspired by The Atlantic Monthly’s list of the 100
most influential Americans, last year Ms. Crawford compiled the “Park
Slope 100,” a list that included well-known Slope figures like the
writer Paul Auster and the actor Steve Buscemi, but also lesser-known
residents, like a stoic local barista who serves coffee and muffins
with a particular grace, and her therapist.

“I just kind of threw that in,” Ms. Crawford said of this last inclusion. “Nobody mentioned it.”

READ THE REST HERE.

DRY CLEANER CLOSES IN PARK SLOPE: WHERE IS MY WEDDING DRESS

Susan Leone needs help locating the owners of the dry cleaner on 1st Street and 6th Avenue so that she can locate her wedding dress. The shop closed about two weeks ago. If anyone has information, do tell.

I am not sure if this blog could be helpful in my pursuit but I thought that I would try.  This is my story:

There is a dry cleaner that used to be on Fifth Avenue at 1st Street , called Jordan Malachi cleaners.  This store closed down very quickly about 1-1/2 weeks ago.  They closed down without leaving any contact information. 

The problem is that they have my wedding dress!  I brought it to them last November to be cleaned.  The man behind the counter said that it would take about 6 weeks.  I went back at that point and he told me that it was not ready yet. 

Needless to say, I went back about 4 times, each time he said that it was at his other store and that he would bring it over.  Then he closed down.  I have talked with business owners on the block and they don’t have any information on what happened or where he went.  I even spoke with the mailman (such a sweet man!) who said that they did not leave a forwarding mail address. 

So I thought that I would try to reach out to others in the neighborhood to see if they are in the same predicament or have any contact information.
Thanks for reading and please let me know the best way to get the word out so that I can hopefully track down my wedding dress!

BREASTFEEDING A GO GO IN PARK SLOPE SAYS TIMES’ WRITER

All the hoopla about Greg Beyer’s article on Brooklyn Blogging and the other article about Park Slope in Sunday’s Times, Park Slope Parent Trap, practically fell under the radar.

Except it didn’t.

Even up here in Connecticut — and I don’t mean Connecticut Muffin. Diaper Diva called to tell me to read the article in the City section.

I finally got to look at it in a wireless room at the lovely "George Washington Slept Here" inn we’re staying at in Connecticut.

Love the photo — a stroller mom pushing up the Slope past Two Boots. Classic.

The article is by Samantha Storey, a long-time Sloper who became a mom in January. She’s finding out the truth about Park Slope. And it ain’t always pretty.  She writes.

I hated that my neighborhood was living up to its cliché of being chock-full of “annoying parenting types.”

Once her baby was born, it was time to write another "reasons to hate Park Slope" article. Well, having a baby does give you a new perspective on Park Slope.

Joining the scores of 30-something couples who seemingly move to
Brooklyn to breed, I discovered a whole new dimension of Park Slope.
With my son’s birth in January came three months of maternity leave,
and I got to see the neighborhood on weekdays.

I wasn’t surprised by the gangs of mothers, but I was shocked by the sheer numbers  — they were everywhere.

It’s true. There are sooooo many mommies. Back in 1991 we used to joke about stroller gridlock. But what were we complaining about? Comparatively it was so minimal.

But now….

I love Storey’s description of a breast-milk-klatch at Two Boots. To some it will sound weird. Barbara Walters would find it disgusting. Storey herself seems a little uncomfortable with it. But if you’ve ever breast fed, you might appreciate the open minded attitude toward breastfeeding that exists in Park Slope. I for one was grateful for it.

I had stumbled upon an assembly of breasts, mine
included, as I nursed my own baby. While I struggled to manipulate my
son’s head to cover as much of my breast as possible, these women took
their comfort with nakedness to a whole new height.

One woman had
her shirt completely unbuttoned, her pretty pink, lacey maternity bra
on display. Another had one breast lopped over the top of her tank top.
The third had twins. She wasn’t wearing a shirt — or a bra for that
matter — just a hoodie sweatshirt unzipped with a baby at each breast.
She walked around the restaurant with them in her arms, her body
swaying in a comforting dance.

If only I was a 14-year-old boy!
I admired their lack of self-consciousness but had to admit I was
uncomfortable — it was as if I had landed in a private living room, and
it felt as if I were privy to their intimacy unbeknownst to them.

GREG BEYER UNDER FIRE

That’s right. Reporter Greg Beyer is under fire over at Atlantic Yards Report for leaving out Atlantic Yards Report and No Land Grab.  in his article Cracker-Barrel 2.0 in the City section of the New York Times.

Yes, that is a serious omission when it comes to an article about the Brooklyn blogging scene. I mean COME ON: Norman Oder and Lumi Rolley are Blogging luminaries.

But I agree with Norman Oder who writes:

Some who attended the Second Annual Brooklyn Blogfest in May complained that there was too much emphasis on Atlantic Yards, given that two of the six featured bloggers (Lumi Rolley of No Land Grab and I) focused on Brooklyn’s most controversial project. It’s
not an illegitimate criticism; it depends whether you believe such an
event should encompass all who come–as did the debut event in 2006–or
some of the most prominent. (Next year, I’m sure I’ll sit it out.)

Reading Beyer’s article, I had the sense that he was correcting for that slant at the Brooklyn Blogfest and highlighting some of the blogs that are not single issue. His focus was something Beyer calls "place blogs."

I spent a couple of hours with Greg back in May soon after the Blogfest talking about my blog and my perspective on things. I think I may have emphasized my own appreciation of the idiosyncratic and eccentric side of blogging.

Hey, that was the morning I saw the Nashville Warbler. I was in a micro frame of mind. 

Needless to say, I am thrilled with the article and think it’s beautifully written. That said, one article in the Times’ can’t cover all the ins and outs of Brooklyn blogging. It seems to me that Brooklyn blogging is getting top big to be generalized about.

There are place blogs, personal blogs, real estate blogs, development blogs, artsy blogs, photo blogs, political blogs, etc.

We are a growing blogdom and we don’t need to fight over who gets space in a New York Times article.

We’re too big and varied for that   

 

OTBKB EXCLUSIVE: THE BRIDGES OF KINGS COUNTY, AS FEATURED IN NEW “WALKING BROOKLYN” BOOK

Footbridge_lundys_taken_on_the_brid Guest Blogger Adrienne Onofri shares some of her favorite walks from her new book Walking Brooklyn with the readers of OTBKB:

The first itinerary I developed for Walking Brooklyn features that most famous Brooklyn walk—across the Brooklyn Bridge (which is paired with the Promenade for a “Riverside Rambles” route). I wanted to include the other East River bridges too, especially since some New Yorkers had told me they didn’t even know you could walk on them. Walk 2 in the book goes over the Manhattan Bridge, then through Dumbo’s riverfront parks to the Ferry Landing. Those who take the Williamsburg tour begin by walking across the bridge from Delancey St. in Manhattan.

As noted in the book, the Manhattan Bridge has the most elaborate entrance of the three (heading toward Brooklyn), while the Williamsburg gives you the most striking view upon entering Brooklyn: an equestrian statue of George Washington, across from the Roman temple-like building of the old Williamsburg Trust Company.

Sailboat_bridge_from_kcc_farther
Walking Brooklyn spotlights other bridges as well. The Verrazano-Narrows is visible throughout the Bay Ridge walk, while the Fort Hamilton to Bensonhurst trip takes you under the bridge (and to see a monument to the man who got it named after Verrazano). You see the Marine Parkway Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge, linking Brooklyn and Rockaway, from Manhattan Beach, and I point out the two bridges over the Newtown Creek on the Greenpoint walk—named, appropriately for that Polish neighborhood, after generals Pulaski and Kosciuszko. You cross the Gowanus Canal via the 1889 retractile bridge on Carroll St. on the Gowanus/Carroll Gardens walk, and the Sheepshead Bay marina via a charming wooden footbridge built in 1882. Brooklyn’s oldest bridge? That’s on the Prospect Park walk. It’s Endale Arch, designed by Frederick Law Olmsted when the park was created in the 1860s.

AU CONTRAIRE: GUEST BLOGGING FROM PETER LOFFREDO

Here’s
some excerpts from an article in the New York Times last week about the state
of Eros in relationships today. It was called: "The Shelf Life of
Bliss" by Sam Roberts (Published: July 1, 2007)

Roberts starts with this:


"Forget the proverbial seven-year itch. Not to disillusion the half
million or so June brides and bridegrooms who were just married, but
new research suggests that the spark may fizzle within only
three years."

A bit later, he goes on to say this:


"Everyone knows the first blush of love is the strongest…"

And finally, in a most depressing finale, he leaves us with:


"But a dissipation of that all-enveloping rapture is no reason to give up on a relationship."


Well, as a person who has and is experiencing long-term bliss in a
relationship, and as a psychotherapist who has worked with many couples
in therapy seeking to sustain or recapture that bliss, I would like to
respond to Sam Roberts with some genuine "in-the-field experience."
Yes, "Eros" (bliss, in-love-ness, rapture, whatever you want to call
that amazing rush of feeling when two people come together and it’s
"right") does indeed very typically "fizzle" after an initial "free
sample" is used up (ranging from 3 months to 3 years) . However, this
doesn’t happen because that initial surge of Eros is the strongest, as
Roberts suggests. On the contrary, it fades because people rarely do
the inner work necessary to keep the channels open that would allow
that wonderful state to continue AND GROW EVEN STRONGER!

Yes, that’s
right. Love and sex are not naturally the best in the beginning
of a relationship. Love and sex are best when year after year, you
continue to reveal yourself to your lover and explore your partner’s
inner world in deeper and deeper ways, including romantically and
sexually.

Roberts proposes that the "dissipation of that all-enveloping
rapture" should be accepted and not be used to"give up on a
relationship." Well, I would agree with the last part of the statement
if the not giving up means doing whatever self-work it takes to
rekindle that spark, if possible. I definitely do not agree, however,
that it is anyone’s best interest – not the partners or the children of
such a partnership – to hunker down and settle for a passionless,
Eros-deprived relationship.
The "honeymoon" doesn’t have to ever give way to the "old ball and
chain," folks, not if you don’t want it to, and not if your partner is
willing to go there with you.

SEEING GREEN LOVED LA VIE EN ROSE

Here’s an excerpt from Seeing Green’s review. And here’s the rest.

It’s a good thing that I didn’t read reviews of La Vie en Rose,
the biopic about Edith Piaf, before I went to see it, thanks to my
sister-in-law’s hearty recommendation.  After thoroughly relishing this
film, out of curiosity I went back to read some reviews and was, to say
the least, amazed at the one-sidedness of even famous reviewers.

SHE’S FAMOUS

by OTBKB guest blogger, Diaper Diva.

What a morning.

I woke up to a front page article in the City Section of the New York Times that is basically a tribute to the tenacity of my twin sister for starting a trend-setting blog.  Somehow, she’s at the epicenter of the brooklyn Blogosphere. Incredible.

She has  become famous and I don’t think it’s going to be for just 15-minutes.

I often feel like a celebrity look-alike since I am often mistaken for "Smartmom"  on the streets of Park Slope.

Growing up as identical twins, we always had a certain disdain for the idea of being twins. No cute matching outfits for us. We were always encouraged to exhibit our individuality. We even went to separate private schools.
We  also went to separate colleges,  but often visited one another traversing through the back roads of Upstate New York to see one another. This individuality never made us distant or remote. We were fiercely close,  although  I  often felt threatened by her new friends and experiences.

As is common with twins, a fight could ignite within seconds. But i would end just  as quickly. 
Nevertheless, we grew up and formed our  separate lives  and identities.

I paved out a life for myself in Manhattan on the Upper West Side  establishing myself in a career in the photography and later the film business.
I remained single longer than she did and toiled the single scene through my thirties.

Of course,   there were a great many fun times. Summer houses in the Hamptons, trips to the Carribean, exciting work on film locations. All the while, ny twin married and had two beautiful children. 

I kept a close eye on her life.

When her first child was born, it was as if I had my own. Teen Spirt was the most adorable thing I had every seen. I must have photographed every waking moment of his life from 0- 6months.
I wanted  children of my own. There were many men, and that oh-so-stubborn-one who wouldn’t marry me or "commit". We toiled together for five years until I had to say good bye to his cries of "I’m not ready…"

To Be Continued.

Continue reading SHE’S FAMOUS

FIVE COURSE SUMMER MEAL WITH THE BROOKLYN FOOD GROUP

On July 13 join the, Brooklyn Food Group, the roving supper club, for a five-course summer meal, which includes cocktails, ceviche, and an ice cream
tasting, among other exciting features. They  request a $50 donation to
cover the costs of the evening.  Reserve your seat NOW.

Here’s the preliminary Tastes of summer menu:

Ceviche

Pasta with a summer pesto and vegetables

Quail with pickled green tomatoes, black mission figs, fingerling potatoes, pomegranate molasses

A tasting of ice cream sandwiches

OTBKB TO SPEND A WEEK ALONE ON AN ISLAND

Yup. To get some writing done. Should be interesting, eh? No kids. No husband. No friends. No Slope.

A few good souls have volunteered to sub for me while I’m gone and I’m excited about that. New perspectives, new locales, new subject matter. It’ll do the blog some good.

Don’t miss: Adrienne Onofri, Gilley, Au Contraire (Peter Loffredo), Dr. Robert Lifton, and Matthew Resnick.

If more of you are interested please email me or hugh<at>hughcrawford.com. Even if you have your own blog: I’d love to have you.

Should be an interesting week. I hear that the Internet service where I’m going is spotty so I am not sure if I will be reading these posts until I get back. But I thank you all for contributing your  creative services to OTBKB.

The guest blogging will officially begin on Monday June 9. I will be back at my computer on Monday June 17th.

Hepcat will be holding down the fort while I’m gone. He’s busy with freelance software architecting and will be home with Teen Spirit. OSFO will be at sleep-a-way camp.

Me? I’ll be on an island. Far from home and this blog.

ANOTHER TIME SMARTMOM LEFT TOWN WITHOUT HER CHILDREN

First posted in October 2004:

SMARTMOM IS GOING TO CALIFORNIA to attend the wedding of Hepcat’s
cousin Sarah. Hepcat is already there, grabbing a few day’s with his
mom on the family’s walnut farm in the San Joaquin Valley just 80 miles
east of San Francisco. Smartmom travels Thursday morning on Jet Blue
and will be out of The Slope for five days. She is flying alone.

Five days.

That’s the longest Smartmom has ever been away from Teen Spirit and
OSFO. Sure, on their anniversary in July, Hepcat and Smartmom annually
hole up at the Paramount Hotel for a night of amour. But that’s just
one night, barely a 24-hour leave from their obstinate offspring.

The last time Smartmom actually went anwhere alone was when she
went to Tortola, British Virgin Islands on a business trip back in
1994. And there have been other quick trips: a wedding in upstate New
York, a memorial service in California, a weekend in Washington D.C. But that’s about it. When Smartmom and family travel, they travel
together. Together.

So sprinkle some separation anxiety into the mix. On all sides. 

OSFO is pretty strung out by the whole thing. She’s been dreading
Sarah’s wedding ever since the invitation arrived last summer. When she
found out that no kids were invited — she was completely mystified. I
mean, who loves weddings more than OSFO? Really. OSFO longed to be
Cousin Sarah’s flower girl and a talented and experienced flower girl
she is. But nope, flower girl at Sarah’s wedding was not in the stars.
And OSFO was PISSED. Plus she doesn’t like to be too far away from her
loving mama. I mean, they are practically conjoined twins so close and
loving are they.

Teen Spirit was a little harder to read. Although he seemed mostly
cool and collect about Smartmom’s leave taking, he was awfully tender
last evening saying that he wished Smartmom wasn’t going away. When she
asked him if he was going to miss her he said, "I don’t know. Maybe."

Smartmom leaves her cherished brood in the loving care of Beautiful
Smile (their beloved babysitter), Groovy Aunt and Groovy Grandma. The
refrigerator is packed full. Smartmom thinks she’s thought of
everything.

Smartmom spent most of yesterday in a Manhattan beauty salon
getting dolled up and glamorized for Saturday night’s wedding. But she
found herself feeling sad, even tearing up during the hair coloring,
highlights and killer haircut. She looks like a million bucks, but
feels like a dime as she gets ready to leave the Slope. It’s hard to
cut the umbilical cord and go three thousand miles away.

Her children will survive, but tell me, dear reader, will she?

ADULTS ONLY HARRY POTTER PARTY IN GREENPOINT

Miss Heather at New York Shitty reports that Word Books is having an Adults Only Harry Potter party on July 20th. Here’s an excerpt.

Recently my buddy over at Word Books was in distress. She was perplexed by a rather snarky and peculiar quip Daily Intelligencer made about the sign she made advertising an “Adults Only” Harry Potter release party. She even asked me if I was responsible for this. I told her no. This is the truth.

I’ll be honest; I find the fascination some adults (especially middle-aged adults) have for Ms. Rowling’s body of work a little creepy. Not unlike Star Trek groupies who elect to exchange their wedding vows in Klingon. Both of the previous types of people are beyond my comprehension.

That said, I know damn well that I am in no position whatsoever to judge people for what they read because my reading habits are pretty fucking peculiar
in their own right. Sex workers and sideshow freaks are of particular
interest to yours truly. Regarding the latter, I recently finished a
book entitled “The Lives and Loves of Daisy and Violet Hilton.” I
purchased this book from (where else?) Word Books.

FROM BROOKLYN ALL THE WAY TO STATEN ISLAND

New York 1 has the story. Here’s an excerpt.

Some cyclists are hoping a bike path in Brooklyn will eventually lead them straight to Staten Island.

The Shore Parkway bike path in Bay Ridge has seen a dramatic restoration over the last few years.

Now State Senator Marty Golden is proposing extending the bike path over the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island.

The Verrazano Bridge is run by the MTA, but the agency says there are no current plans to connect the path to it.

ARTICLE ABOUT BROOKLYN BLOGGERS COMING THIS SUNDAY TO THE CITY SECTION

New York Times’ reporter Greg Beyers emailed me to say that his article about the Brooklyn blogging scene will be in the City section this Sunday. He’s been working on it since before the Brooklyn Blogfest on May 10th. There was a New York Times’ photographer at the recent Brooklyn Blogade Roadshow at Vox Pop. I’m excited to see the article.

I’ll be on an island where they probably don’t get the City section and the Internet is spotty. Hmmmm. What’s a blogger to do?

Dang.

MUSIC FOR 17 MUSICIANS BY PARK SLOPE COMPOSER

Got this from a friend whose husband composes jazz compositions for a 17-piece orchestra. I am adding this to OTBKB’s Summer in Brooklyn even if it is at the Bowery Poetry Club. Sometimes you’ve just got to go into Manhattan. It’s good for you from time to time.

Dear Friends and Others:
You are cordially invited to the inaugural engagement of my latest musical (ad)venture

The Joshua Shneider Easy-Bake Orchestra with vocal sensation Lucy Woodward

Original compositions and arrangements for 17 musicians,
featuring some of NYC’s most fearless improvisers.

July 11th
8:00-9:30  pm
The Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery, New York, NY 10012
212.614.0505
foot of First Street, between Houston & Bleecker
across the street from CBGBs

GET READY NEW YORK. A CONTEST?

Ready New Yorker of the Month Contest

The Office of Emergency Management nvites
New Yorkers to share stories of how they have prepared for emergencies
through the Ready New Yorker of the Month contest. Each month,
residents may submit their preparedness testimonials to OEM and the
winner will be named the Ready New Yorker of the Month and receive two Go Bags, backpacks with basic supplies residents should have on hand for use in an emergency.

Apply online
Download the application

EATING SUSTAINABLY: EVENT AT VOX POP ON JULY 11

One more event for the OTBKB Summer in Brooklyn Guide.

For their latest event, Sustainable Flatbush is teaming up with the Green Edge 
Collaborative,
a Brooklyn-based organization dedicated to community 
education about the impact of individual consumption choices on 
society and the environment. Green Edge’s previous events have 
included Eco-Eatery tours of local restaurants and Supper Club 
potluck-style gatherings with an emphasis on local organic ingredients.

WHAT:
Eating Sustainably
Meet-up and Discussion

Join your New York City neighbors in an open discussion about issues 
surrounding food and sustainability. The discussion will be moderated 
by Carolyn Gilles of the Green Edge Collaborative and Anne Pope of 
Sustainable Flatbush. Here is a great article to get you thinking 
beforehand, or a little fun education if you can’t make the event:
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/01/fashion/01green.html

WHEN:
Wednesday July 11th, 8pm

WHERE:
Vox Pop Cafe/Bookstore
1022 Cortelyou Road
Brooklyn, NY 11218
Q train to Cortelyou Road

Sustainable Flatbush provides a neighborhood-based forum to discuss, 
promote and implement sustainability concepts in Brooklyn and beyond. 
We sponsor events and host a blog (http://sustainableflatbush.org
where topics range from local to global.

SMALL DRAMA ON THIRD STREET

A bit of drama on Third Street. And it’s all because we got a new barrister bookcase that came in a large box this morning.

This evening just as it started to rain, a very drunk man decided to use a large piece of the box as shelter.

He took it and himself down the exterior stairs to our basement and slept there. Out cold.

Mrs. Kravitz was going down to do her laundry when she was completely startled by the site of this sleeping man.

She flagged down the 17-year-old boy who lives in the house next door. He spoke Spanish to the man who was too drunk to move.

Mrs. Kravitz called 911:

"Is this 911 or 311," she asked when she got someone on the phone. "This isn’t an emergency but help is needed."

They sent a police car and an EMT ambulance. 

"The guy urinated all over the box," Mrs. Kravitz me. It was more than I wanted to know but I did help Mrs. Kravitz move the large piece of box over to the garbage for Friday recycling pick up. It was my box, afterall.

A bit of drama on Third Street. And all because of the barrister bookcase that came in a big box.

BROOKLYN BOY RICHIE HAVENS IN BROOKLYN TONIGHT

Someone told me that Richie Havens will be at Celebrate Brooklyn tonight. He’s a real hero of mine though I haven’t lisented to him in years. In fact, I am trying to remember the song that he sang at Woodstock. It was incredible. What was it???

Okay, I foudn his bio on the Richie Haven’s website. The song was "Freedom" but he also did a mean version of "Just like a Woman." Here’s an excerpt from the bio on his website. He was born in Bed Stuy, the oldest of nine kids.

At the age of 20, Richie left Brooklyn to seek out the
artistic stimulation of Greenwich Village. "I saw the Village as a
place to escape to in order to express yourself", he recalls. "I had
first gone there during the beatnik days of the 1950’s to perform
poetry, then I drew portraits for 2 years and stayed up all night
listening to folk music in the clubs. It took awhile before I thought
of picking up a guitar". Nina Simone was a key vocal influence early
on, and Fred Neil and Dino Valenti were among the folksingers who had
an impact on Richie during this period.

Richie’s
reputation as a solo performer soon spread beyond the Village folk
circles. He recorded two albums worth of demos for Douglas
International in 1965 and ’66, though none of the tracks were released
until his first two albums caused a stir. After joining forces with
legendary manager Albert Grossman, Richie landed his first record deal
with the Verve label, which released Mixed Bag

Something Else Again (1968) became Richie’s first album to hit the Billboard chart, and also pulled Mixed Bag
onto the charts. That same year, Douglas International added
(unapproved) instrumental tracks to his old demos and released two
albums, Richie Havens’ Record and Electric Havens. Less than a year later, Richie’s first coproduction, the two-disc Richard P. Havens, 1983

It was, in fact, as a live performer that Richie first earned
widespread notice. By decade’s end, he was in great demand in colleges
across the country, as well as on the international folk and pop
festival circuit. Richie played the 1966 Newport Folk Festival, the
1967 Monterey Jazz Festival, the 1968 Miami Pop Festival, the 1969
Woodstock Festival, the 1969 Isle of Wight Festival, and the first
Glastonbury Festival in 1970.

Richie’s Woodstock appearance proved to be a major turning point in his
career. As the festival’s first performer, he held the crowd spellbound
for nearly three hours, called back for encore after encore. Having run
out of tunes, he improvised a song based on the old spiritual
"Motherless Child" that became "Freedom", a song now considered to be
the anthem of a generation. The subsequent movie release helped Richie
reach a worldwide audience of millions.

He’ll be at Celebrate Brooklyn Friday night.

CANTATA FOR VOICE, TAPE AND TESTIMONY PLUS RICHIE HAVENS

Celebrate Brooklyn on Friday night has something that sounds very unususal: REwind: A Cantata For Voice, Tape & Testimony / Richie Havens. Here’s the blurb.

Cape Town composer Philip Miller’s extraordinary international collaboration is based on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission hearings that led South Africa from apartheid to democracy. Opera superstar Sibongile Khumalo joins other South African soloists, a string octet, and a 100-voice chorus composed of Brooklyn’s Total Praise Choir of Emanuel Baptist Church, the Williams College Choir, and a South African ex-patriot choir led by Lion King choirmaster Ron Kunene. The music blends seamlessly with samples of recorded TRC testimony and stunning projected images. "The Cantata brought together the cry of our country—our pain and fears, our hopes and especially our triumphs and joys in the way we as South Africans can best express these emotions—in music and song. It was a deeply moving, most powerful and uplifting experience." (Archbishop Desmond Tutu)

The evening begins with an introduction by a very special surprise guest host and a performance by folk icon Richie Havens. Bedford-Stuyvesant born and raised, Havens has used his music to convey messages of brotherhood and personal freedom since emerging from the Greenwich Village folk scene in the early 1960s. His fiery, soulful singing and guitar style remains unique and ageless, and his willingness to lend his voice to numerous worthy causes through the decades has made him one of the most enduring musician-activists of his generation.

JEN CHUNG TO BE A REGULAR ON BRIAN LEHRER THIS MONTH

Jen Chung, editor of Gothamist.com, joins The Brian Lehrer Show on
Thursdays in July to discuss New York politics, culture and everyday
life. Speaking of Gothamist, they had a great interview with our man Michael Hearst, who created the new album, Songs for Ice Cream Trucks, a Park Slope fave. They asked him to share his strangest only in New York" story:

Well, I don’t know if this is an "only in New York" story, but here
goes: I actually work one day a week at a small pasty shop in Park
Slope called Colson Patisserie. It allows me to get away from my
computer and music for a little while. Plus, they sell homemade gelato…
and copies of my CD. Anyway, one afternoon it was really crowded, and
there was this long line of people waiting to get coffees.

As I
approached the next lady in line, I noticed she was staring at my
"Songs For Ice Cream Trucks" CD, which was on display by the register.
She looked up at me and said, "You know, I was stuck in
traffic the other day and was listening to the radio, and I happened to
hear the guy who made this CD being interviewed. And I was thinking to
myself, ‘what kind of person has the time to sit around and write an
entire album of songs for ice cream truck??’" I shook my head at her
and said, "Man, whoever that is must be a complete moron!" She rolled
her eyes in agreement. I then took her order, and went off to make her
a double latte, or whatever.

Serving Park Slope and Beyond