Under the BQE

Farewell!

2009-12-16T14:07:00.003-05:00

I have had such a good time maintaining this blog over the past (almost) two years. But I find myself flagging, less because I have nothing to say than that I've found new ways to say it. In many cases, this saying involves really going out and talking to people in North Brooklyn and the wider world. In others instances, it requires tying myself to a chair and hitting my mind against words...which is to say, working on poems. In all cases, my commitment to the dialogue has not languished so much as my resolve to post conversations to the void. So, dear void, I end as I began (but with a new image, one recently pulled off the pavement at the corner of Lorimer and Withers):

My Community is Under the BQE and on either side of it, with Williamsburg to the south and Greenpoint to the north. I'm on the edge where streets that have been running nearly east-west tilt to run northwest-southeast, all the way to the East River. My community is changing like a prairie on fire, but that's okay. I'm not here to decry the new but to bear witness to the amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience of living in a New York City neighborhood that is changing faster than probably any other neighborhood (at least visibly) and which has a once-in-a-city experience to transform its skyscape in a short period of time. We who live here now will never again see as much sky as we do now, or as the Italians who've been on my street for decades or the Polish who've been on Nassau for decades or the artists who've been on Bedford since the 80s saw even before the Changes started happening. We're all blessed, in this little corner of the world, on this little pinhead of time. One of my favorite poets writes,

"How wondrous strange it was at that moment
to be in the flesh."

And it is.

Deck the Streets

2009-12-12T14:07:00.002-05:00

Notes on December

2009-12-02T20:45:00.005-05:00

It's unseasonably warm outside (perhaps the most dispiriting weather of all), but I'm listening to Christmas carols (from the time before "Greensleeves" was "What Child is This?"), and I just was outside walking by Union Pool, which smelled of childhood campfires (ode to the amygdala!). Related to this: basmati rice smells like popcorn, cats smell like cats, and a nearby candle could be a very sweet and waxy apple pie.

Poem Interlude

2009-12-02T20:45:00.001-05:00

Crown Heights

The bells were made
of November or it might
have been the other way
around. Perhaps both were
merely points on a spectrum
of yellow, as the tree on your
street, which, more than
anything, turned love into
something we could see.

Under the BQE: Literally

2009-11-09T20:31:00.000-05:00

Poem Interlude

2009-11-06T21:37:00.000-05:00

There Is No Mountain

Heading toward the mountain:
watch for deer
watch for falling rocks
watch for school buses
watch for oversized loads
watch for chain-up areas
watch for hydroplaning
watch for historic markers
watch for sudden snow
watch for reduced speed zones
watch for motorcycles
watch for median weigh stations
watch for gas stations
watch for single-lane construction zones
watch for roadside diners
watch for crossing horses
watch for cops
watch for scenic routes
watch for birds
watch for loose gravel
watch for snow plows
watch for blind spots
watch for highway hypnosis
watch for narrow shoulders
watch for steamed-up windows
watch for low-flying aircraft
watch for log trucks
watch for hitchhikers
watch for tailgaters
watch for roadkill
watch for mist

Being a Leaf for a Halloween Marathon?*

2009-11-02T22:15:00.006-05:00

*I did not run the marathon, but I did run by the marathon...and was inspired. I also was not a leaf, but I was a multitude of leaves, as in autumn, and I cavorted with a weight lifter and a recycled bag lady before heading into the drenched phantasmagoria of Manhattan on All Hallow's.

Under the BQE: Literally

2009-10-18T14:34:00.001-04:00

Poem Interlude (Draft)

2009-10-15T23:22:00.000-04:00

On Growing Up

“Balloon lands but boy is not found inside.” The New York Times, 10/15/09

Boy lands but balloon is not found
out for its role in the adventure.
Nor does anyone ask what it saw.
Or what the boy said. He has been
afraid of becoming the kind of man
who will never use his shadow
as useful ballast. Who would be
baffled by questions like, Why is
this day special? Appointments,
possible birthdays, anniversaries,
national holidays, feasts. Never
the lift-off, never the simple sky
arching overhead. Because the sky
arches overhead, and today I may
pretend to have wings for a while.

Skills! Share Them!

2009-10-08T14:09:00.002-04:00

The first Brooklyn Skillshare will be held this Saturday, October 10th, at the Gowanus Studio Space (119 8th Street, Brooklyn btw 2nd & 3rd Avenues) from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. (with free breakfast and lunch).

The Skillshare is a community-based, community-led, and community-building learning event organized and taught by Brooklyn residents. It is a one-day event of learning, making, sharing and doing, led by volunteers and supported by donations. Come for one session or all five, on topics ranging from kombucha brewing, bike mechanics, screenprinting, DIY electronic audio, cooking with raw food, burlesque, making ricotta, and more.

And speaking of sharing, I recently was given a tour of the elusive, exclusive Park Slope Food Co-Op, which was a zany experience, in that it involved seeing guys in button-downs and ties working cash registers, women in work pumps stocking vegetables, and the lowest prices ever for fine cheese, Burt's Bees products, fresh herbs, and anything else you can imagine.

Civic Engagement Ahoy

2009-09-29T20:46:00.007-04:00

The run-off elections for Public Advocate and Comptroller were held today in our fair city. In the last open Council election, only 16 percent of all eligible voters actually turned out, and North Brooklyn scrounged up even fewer. Tonight I went to the polls wagering that there would be a three percent turn-out...and found that my district's table had seen 20 people all day. A fellow Brooklyn voter said that he was voter #30 at his district's table, and a Manhattan suffragist felt that more people were working at the polls than entering them. So let's do the math! There are currently around four million voters in NYC. Of these, 66 percent, or 2.4 million, are registered Democrats. Given that there are around 6,200 election districts citywide, if the average turn-out/district today was 25 voters, then 155,000 Democrats voted, or 6.4 percent of the population. Also note that an election requires around 30,000 poll workers, which means 1-in-5 people at the polls today was...truly civically engaged.

Saturday Morning Sightings

2009-09-19T12:29:00.006-04:00

*Jay Bakker interview in the WG
*Homemade ravioli on Conselyea
*Semi-truck repair lot on Skillman
*"Holla It's Ten Dolla" stoop sale on Metropolitan
*Grapefruit sighting on Lorimer
*Two NYC Bridge workers buying sandwiches ("You ever try the pepper jack? It's good.")
*Tabby cat in McGorlick
*Little dog in McCarren
*Photo shoot on Monitor
*Yellow flowers in Red Shed Garden
*Coney Island photos in window of Klenosky Paint
*Perfect day brunch at Enid's
*Roof workers with mallets
*History in street names: "Lorimer Street recalls the middle name of John and James Graham (after whom Graham Avenue is named), two famous land-jobbers, active in 1836 selling building lots in the area." (Development comes full circle.)
*PAC Chinese food renovations
*Strollers (Which reminds me: I would like to see a Duck stroller that can roll over the ground and also be launched as a ferry.)
*Runners (one with "Vandy" on her shorts - Nashville in Williamsburg!)
*A door
*A hall
*Another door
*A bagel

Just Got Home From Illinois

2009-09-15T22:17:00.002-04:00

And Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, Kentucky, and Indiana. Forty-one states left to go! Thousands of words related to why I ate a head of broccoli on the drive from Nashville to Illinois (via the Patton Museum):

Claw-Foot Tub Anyone?

2009-09-03T14:22:00.002-04:00

If you're in the market for all manner of furniture, lamps, and assorted doo-dads, stop by this sale this weekend. Because nothing says autumn quite like a new chair.

Back to the Land

2009-09-03T11:39:00.003-04:00

Why it means something to support local farmers, or, a letter from Hearty Roots Farm:

Dear East Williamsburg CSA Member:

It's been a while since you've heard an update directly from the farmers at Hearty Roots - unless you've talked to one of us
personally, in which case you're probably tired of hearing complaint after complaint about this season's weather!

Well, I'm afraid that we're not ready to stop complaining yet. "Merciless" is the only word that seems appropriate for the conditions that we've faced in the Hudson Valley this season. Our neighbors, who have been at it much longer than we have, are saying that it's the most difficult growing season they've ever seen. Certainly that's true for us.

We did finally have one week of summer weather just now-- warm days, and an inch-and-a-half of rain, that's just about perfect. Unfortunately, during the rest of June, July and August the skies were not so friendly. Rainstorm after rainstorm turned our normally very well-drained fields into swamps. Unending wet weather brings with it disease, which affected our carrots, potatoes, lettuce, onions, radicchio, and, of course, tomatoes. Flooding in the fields wiped out newly seeded plantings of beets and salad greens. Unseasonably cool days prevented our pepper plants from producing as they should. And muddy fields meant we couldn't get on our tractors and cultivate (i.e., weed) our crops on time, nor plant them on time.

At one point in May, I remember looking at our fields of newly planted carrots and worrying that we would have TOO many carrots this year. Then, when the floods came, the water table rose above the bottom half of all of those carrots, causing them to turn to mush in the standing water.

So we regret very much that our late summer shares, which we always plan to keep bountiful, are less than ideal this season. Please understand that we've done everything we can to keep the shares plentiful - including no longer selling any produce to restaurants, which we normally do with surplus veggies, in order to make sure that our members are taken care of first. And we've re-tasked some of our crew members, who during a normal year might be picking tomatoes right now, with planting extra salad greens for the shares in upcoming weeks.

What's the bright side? Well, the weather has taken a turn for the better, for now. This is allowing our fall plantings of cauliflower, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbage, radishes and squash to perk up, and we have been tirelessly weeding them to keep them happy. So we're hoping to have a rebound in the coming month's harvest.

The real bright side, though, comes from you, our members. A season like this one could easily cause a relatively young farm like ours to go under. If we were dependent on farmers markets for our income, we might have ended this season in unrecoverable debt. While we are definitely taking a real economic hit this year, both personally and as a farm, the Community Supported Agriculture model will allow us to get through this season, and onto more bountiful seasons in the future. And we will be stronger for it - having learned how to deal with even the most difficult weather conditions, we will have learned
to grow even more bountifully in the future, and we promise to share that bounty with all of you. Thanks to all of you, very sincerely, for your support this season.

--Benjamin & Miriam

Faded Ads

2009-08-31T23:33:00.002-04:00

What a lovely project.

"Florists’ Transworld Delivery was established in 1910 as Florists’ Telegraph Delivery. The Mercury Man logo was adopted in 1914 to emphasize speedy delivery."

Jump's photo:

My photo, obviously some time later:

Quotes

2009-08-31T23:19:00.004-04:00

"For now at least, Greenpoint’s stunning views of Manhattan are still mostly clear, unobstructed by the kinds of high-rise developments that are starting to sprout — and wither — in Williamsburg."

“'The macroeconomy of the city is affecting the development of open space in Greenpoint.'”

"A lot of the renters, these young hipsters, are very energy conscious.'"

Green Skies...

2009-08-25T21:41:00.002-04:00

A North Brooklyn Story Project member, Liza de Guia, created this minimentary on rooftop farming in North Brooklyn.

Fruits of Summer

2009-08-22T18:20:00.002-04:00

Something about a hot, sticky week to inspire one to prepare things for the coming cold... Something about swiss chard stems... Something about a cat and a melon...

And

2009-08-13T21:37:00.001-04:00

Oh. My. Sakes Alive. Thanks Lady H!

August and Everything

2009-08-13T21:19:00.005-04:00

Lovely: Miyako (Berry and North 6th) then "creme ice" at Ralph's Famous Italian Ices (Graham between Conselyea and Metropolitan). And yesterday Crown Heights: the roof overlooking what was once Ebbets Field, wine, and back to 1985 for Live Aid, whose most striking performer in my mind is the magnanimous and confident and gracefully theatrical Mr. Mercury. Anywayz. Great week in a great summer.

Poem Interlude

2009-08-13T21:09:00.002-04:00

And Then the Rain Began

I was walking blind
through the drowned mini-universe
of summer, to the café where,
shortly, I would hear
speaking of Gospels at an adjacent
table the very punk pastor
I'd learned of for the first time
earlier in the week.

Holy coincidence, Batman!

Water will find
its level, neither better nor worse
than where it was, and it's fair
to say that fear
holds no sway, as cement
cannot make the tides come faster.
So in spite of ourselves we climb
to gods who themselves climb to seek.

Also Tonight at Pete's

2009-08-01T18:13:00.002-04:00

Phil Cody. He plays at 8, Pree (mentioned in earlier post) goes on at 11. Singer-songwriters and those who love them, rejoice!

New Lens

2009-08-01T14:46:00.004-04:00

I have a new camera and took it for a spin today, home to the garden and back...where I cooked breakfast/lunch with freshly picked-up vegetables.

(These semis never fail to intrigue; they are usually being scrubbed down and tuned up.)

(They've re-landscaped and made a great deal of space from very little, through windings and switchbacks.)

(From Hearty Roots: potatoes, peppers, onions, chard, cucumbers, dill; from the Greenmarket, which may be moving: milk, mushrooms; from elsewhere: eggs, vegetarian sausage, and, of course, ketchup.)

Sunny Day Music

2009-07-31T10:34:00.002-04:00

Newsflash: there will be one day of sunshine coming to a neighborhood near you! To celebrate, come out to Pete's Candy Store Saturday evening to hear Pree, the Washington, DC-based band described by some as the lovechild of Joanna Newsom and Modest Mouse.

Another Trip Around the Sun

2009-07-24T23:15:00.006-04:00

Here's approximately how I feel, on the eve of my 30th birthday:

And here's what I will cook for friends tomorrow:
*Wheat crackers with homemade roasted garlic hummus
*Bing cherries with stems and blue cheese
*Chilled avocado-zucchini-peach-yogurt soup
*Corn bread
*Mustard greens with tempeh, corn, and feta
*Roasted mushrooms
*Carrot, purple cabbage, and cranberry salad, with lemon and toasted cumin
*Pickled beets
*Cake (but thankfully not this one or this one or this one).

Brouhaha Brewing

2009-07-18T11:36:00.002-04:00

Come out tonight to hear Matt Jones and others play music, screen short films, dance, and enjoy the company of other bon vivants. 7 p.m., 525 Union Avenue, #6C.

Community, Capiche?

2009-07-12T22:05:00.005-04:00

From sundown through twilight to nightfall, I sat in the Bamonte's parking lot, chatting with Nick, his nephew Max, and the Italians who live and used to live in the neighborhood. Jimmy T was singing Sinatra at the restaurant, while sons and daughters now in Jersey and Long Island were back with dogs and flip flops, jewelry and big cars to visit parents, eat homemade meatballs, and see the Giglio lifted once again. Nicky blasting Dean Martin (born Dino Paul Crocetti), drinking beer. Max telling me about being a ninth grader. Me sitting on a milk crate, watching the stray cats, lit clouds. Feeling lucky.

Lilies in July

2009-07-11T14:58:00.005-04:00

It's Feast time in my little piece of North Brooklyn. The bands are roving today, distributing blessed bread to neighborhood residents. Tomorrow the Giglio and Boat will be lifted, as has been the custom on this block for over 100 years.

(Parade band serenading Bamonte's.)

"In Italian Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the residents of the community look forward to the annual Giglio Feast held every July. Since 1903, when the Nolani immigrants first held their transplanted feast in this Brooklyn neighborhood, this festa has attempted to maintain many of the traditions from the Mezzogiorno, while adjusting to the new culture in America and accommodating the pressure to change."

For two weeks, a carnival spills along Withers, Union, and Havemeyer, complete with noisy rides, lemonade, and sizzling zeppoli.

(2008.)

"The story, which is passed on through the generations on both sides of the Atlantic, is that around 410 AD, North African pirates overran the town of Nola. In the chaos, Bishop Paolino was able to flee into the countryside with some of the children. Upon his return, Paolino learned, from a sobbing widow that many of the young men, her son included, had been abducted into slavery. Moved to compassion, Paolino offered himself in exchange for the boy and was ferried off, a prisoner of the brigands. While in North Africa, word of the courage and self-sacrifice of Paolino spread and became known to a certain Turkish sultan. Taken with the tale of altruism, the sultan intervened, negotiating for the freedom of this holy man. Through the sultan 's efforts, Paolino and his paesani, were freed.

Overjoyed by his safe return, the entire town greeted him carrying lilies, symbolic of love and purity. That joyous homecoming jubilee is considered the very first observance of what would develop into an annual sacred event. Through the years, various trade guilds (farmer (ortolamo), butcher (beccaio), tailor (sarto), breadmaker (panettiere), blacksmith (fabbra), cobblers (calzolaio), deli merchants (salumiere), and wine makers (bettoliere)) began to compete to produce the most sensational display of lilies. Over time, these displays became more flamboyant."

(Back of the 2009 Giglio, from Union.)

"Today, although still called lilies (gigli), they have evolved into huge flower-laden steeples of wood, 50 feet or more in height. In Nola, these gigli structures and a boat (la barca) are carried through the streets on the shoulders of hundreds of men, in remembrance of the return of Paolino to Nola. The atmosphere is quite competitive and each guild hires the best lifters they can secure, because the carrying of the gigli is judged. Creativity of construction and musical accompaniment is also scrutinized even after the formal competition ends, and the men of Nola carry and dance the gigli throughout the night."

Time In Our Cups

2009-07-09T22:36:00.004-04:00

"New bars and venues open constantly in this neighborhood - it almost feels like the community board consists of a solitary robot with a giant rubber "Approved" stamp for liquor license applications." - FREEWilliamsburg

Meanwhile, one of the FWburg featured bars, which I wanted to check out this weekend, has closed. New York City: built by the Dutch, Robert Moses, and nostalgia...

To create new cause to hearken back, come tomorrow night to Zebulon Café Concert to hear (hark!) The Shorebirds, Big Honey Mama's Psychedelic Cowboy Show, and Rescue Bird.

Better than Farm to Table

2009-06-29T20:54:00.004-04:00

Farm at table. In New York City from August 26-30.

(Photo not mine.)

Within A Square Block

2009-06-28T22:42:00.002-04:00

Poem Interlude (Draft)

2009-06-26T20:55:00.017-04:00

The Voice on WNYC Says

“I find that extremely moving.

Julie Andrews and Ben Kingsley,
‘Shall We Dance?’”
                            It’s amazing
they find their way through space
at all, the radio waves, dodging
raindrops today, not to mention
a flowerpot on the windowsill,
a bowl of apples, me –
                                  all to sing
from the white box on top of
the refrigerator. They’re there
all the time, of course, waiting
for the moment when we call
them,
         like applying an iron

to a love letter written in milk.

Happiness Just Before (More) Rain

2009-06-22T21:28:00.007-04:00

Where does it come from? I realized tonight, in my attic/roof, looking out over North Brooklyn into glittering Manhattan, that I love living here. I've always lived near and been drawn to rivers: the Mississippi, the Liffey, the de la Plata of Buenos Aires, Glasgow's Clyde, Montgomery's Tallapoosa. In my eight years in this city, I've overlooked the Hudson's George Washington and the Harlem River Ship Canal, followed freight trains bound from Long Island as they streaked across Hell Gate, and now found the East again, her Manhattan Bridge strung along the twilight. The luckiness of here, though, is that I can turn my head and also see the distinct green of the road, in the I278 sign over the BQE, linking me to all the waterless rivers of the country.

Rain, Rain, Come and Stay

2009-06-20T13:24:00.002-04:00

I love this weather. Two summers ago, the rainy days in Dublin held for most of the summer, and even there, where people are accustomed to the gray, last-minute holidays were being planned to Malta and the like, anywhere with sun.

I biked to pick up vegetables (arugula, sweet Japanese turnips, rainbow chard, napa cabbage, lettuce...)

(Drawing by talented high schooler.)

The McCarren market then called, as I haven't had Ronnybrook milk for a while. And rhubarb caught my eye, which then evolved as follows:

And what says happiness as much as impossibly curly scapes?

(Note the cat paw in the bottom left corner.)

Or as much as the cat himself, radio waves, coffee, and the rain, still.

What Will They Think Up Next

2009-06-15T22:25:00.002-04:00

Just when you thought the likes of Wonder Showzen would never be seen again, along comes Food Party. Thanks, G.

"Food Party is a mind-bending, non-reality cooking show with Thu Tran as your hostess, a cast of unruly puppets as culinary aides, and a cavalcade of fictitious celebrities as surprise dinner guests. Shot on location in a technicolor cardboard kitchen as well as other foreign and exotic cardboard locations, each episode will or will not instruct you on how to prepare wild gourmet multi-course meals with ingredients you probably have on hand in your kitchen already, such as pretzel rods, eggs, narwhal lungs, bizarre plot twists, secret ingredients, and pizza. After all, you never know who might show up for dinner."

But Wonder Showzen, I still miss you.

Menagerie

2009-06-14T14:15:00.002-04:00

We're going to hear The Dodos this afternoon, part of the today-concluding Northside Festival. North Brooklyn has as many festivals as mimes have unanswered calls.

"And the stance that we take isn't much to bear
Yeah, we leave things to change on their time."

And speaking of animals, here are some from places that can seem nearly extinct amidst these streets and buildings and furtive stares.

Buffalo near Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Squirrel in Deadwood, South Dakota.

Geese near East Glacier, Montana.

Cat in Missoula, Montana.

Elk in Packwood, Washington.

Human in Alberta.

Report from BiFF

2009-06-10T23:45:00.006-04:00

Tonight, at the Brooklyn International Film Festival (and almost everyone around me was speaking other languages, which makes it very different from the Quad City International Airport), I saw a short animated film called Backwards, directed by American Aaron Hughes, and feature Borderline, by Canadian Lyne Charlebois. The film is described as combining the novels Borderline and Labrèche, both by Marie-Sissi Labrèche, to create a visual story of Kiki. "With her mother institutionalized, she takes refuge in school [and her lit prof lover]. Sex and alcohol are her only outlets. But at 30, Kiki faces the hardest challenge of all:" learning to ride her bike in the snow. No, but seriously: there's a lot of bicycling through snow in this movie, which looks picturesque and nearly impossible. There's also a lot of wine flowing over flesh at the film's opening, which seemed a little sappy to me. But I liked the way Kiki appeared around corners as younger and older versions of herself, and I liked the idea of imperfect (and bescarved) reclamation.

And now, the slam summary:
Wine words pain child craziness dog solace skin
Craziness winter loved running hurting wanting dog peace
Bottles spinning addiction skin confession writing mothers pain
Paint birthdays forgotten wine cake child loved slow
Kindness friend pages running death mourning waiting release
Goodbye release winter river child opening arms

BiFF

2009-06-08T19:29:00.004-04:00

Not just your long-lost bully cousin, BiFF is also quite worldly, home, in fact, to 110 countries! That's right: the Brooklyn International Film Festival is playing in our backyard (Brooklyn Heights to be exact). There, through this Sunday, and thanks to the sundry likes of Stella, Stevia, and the insurer to all those able to submit to this festival, you can still see, among hundreds of options:

*an encounter between a a white boy and an African girl in a night train.
*two teenagers' lives brought together through internet webcams.
*the search for the writer of a mysterious diary.
*cash, a car, a mobile phone...and fish.
and
*the invasion of creatures that steal what you have inside!

For $25, you can watch four film programs, many of which are collections of shorts. And speaking of invasions, the 12th annual festival's theme is Open Source, of which Festival Director Marco Ursino says, "Our 'friends' and 'followers' are becoming more interactive by the day and we truly welcome the invasion."

As long as my friends and followers are not 1) locusts, 2) pastel figurines, or 3) spam messages that talk, I, too, welcome whatever is to come.

Graceful and Green

2009-06-07T22:48:00.005-04:00

Dear BQE,

I don't know if I'm staying or going or what either means. But from the roof, dusk turned the spire of Empire State green as a new flower, and the sun went down fiery behind the bridge.

Walk Hard

2009-06-04T16:35:00.002-04:00

L Magazine and Neighbors Allied for Good Growth have partnered this year to organize the 2009 Williamsburg Walks. Come all ye clowns, suits, merchants, and merry-makers, and festoon the streets (Bedford between North 4th and North 9th, noon to sunset) with the dazzling daisy-chain that is us! Oh, and how will Bedford look different than it always does on a Saturday afternoon? Cars will be required to dress up as people for admission.

Going Ga-Ga for the G

2009-05-31T18:31:00.001-04:00

Ride the train!

Railroad Rentals and Factory Ghosts

2009-05-29T21:35:00.001-04:00

The Times in Greenpoint.

Bing and Signifying Nothing

2009-05-29T16:32:00.004-04:00

Thank heavens it's passed, but the BQE found me feeling what can only be described as malazy yesterday, current pet neologism that perhaps succeeds more than Microsoft's latest futile run on Google. Says Peter Sealey, former marketer to the gods of Coke, "Bing has no equity; it signals nothing. It is going to be an enormous expense to create an image for this thing called Bing.” This thing called Bing. What would Don Draper do? Perhaps he'd climb to the top of a building and watch a movie!

Poem Interlude (Draft)

2009-05-21T21:52:00.002-04:00

Not Forgetting Cedar, White, Little Missouri, Milk, Raccoon, and Middle

You’ve learned to give
when the giving comes
back. The rivers showed
how the giving comes
back, the glaciers to
the river to your eyes,
your eyes to the trees,
trees’ breath to the sky,
the sky to the rain to
the river, and the rivers,
their waters changing as
their names, showed
how the need for home
is eternal in a way that
home does not need
to be, how home has
flowed through the
Mississippi but also
the Iowa, through
Big Sioux, James,
Missouri, it’s fed
orchards along
Columbia and brush
on the Snake’s
liquid twist, it’s
called down the
clouds from Malad
to Wind to Powder,
and knows Cheyenne
as well as North Platte,
and loves Yellowstone,
Marias, Bighorn,
Niobara, and Skunk
as much as the taste
of the iron in its own
homeless veins. You’ve
learned to give when
the giving comes back,
and you’ve finally
found that even the
East flows in every
direction, inward
too, as in the park
a bagpiper’s mournful
triumph unwraps dusk.

Send in the Clowns

2009-05-21T10:58:00.003-04:00

While Ringling Brothers seeks new talent, Brooklyn's 33rd District continues our own search for a City Council member who can listen to the crazy-quilt community's needs and effectively advocate on our behalf at City Hall.

Tuesday found 100 or so people, including J and I, at a New Kings Democrats candidates' debate ("laugh about it, shout about it..."), listening to the seven candidates discuss their stances on topics ranging from the fate of the Broadway Triangle and ways to plug the City's $5B+ budget gap, to favorite restaurants and current reading material. All told, Aaron Short and Sabrina Gates of NKD did a great job of moderating, and we had a taste, if not of how these folks would actually effect change in office, then of how their personalities might hinder or aid them along the way.

Since the essence (and partial transcript) of the debate has been well captured, I'll do a more poetic encapsulation, with a couple of pieces of baseball card-like information on each of the players. My real goal on Tuesday was to collect all seven.

Isaac Abraham: Has served the district for 35 years in one capacity or another, including once-upon-a-time as paramedic. Enjoys Peter Luger. Kindly wrote down some of the questions for the hard-of-hearing Ken Baer.

Ken Baer: Could not seem to hear a single question, and might have had cartoon butterflies flitting about his head. Longtime contributor to the Sierra Club's efforts. Vegetarian.

Doug Biviano: A free-thinker who believes in the city-state. He's sailed across the ocean in a 27-foot boat. A civil engineer (and "engineers build civilizations").

Ken Diamandstone: Endorsed by Norman Siegel, and therefore automatically associated with key social justice issues. Can speak loudly without a microphone. Suggested that a funding stream be created so that tenants can have the right of first refusal when commercial space is for sale.

Steve Levin: Cat-owner. Looks a little mouse-like. Didn't make much eye contact with the crowd. Reading Howard Zinn. Most articulate/practiced of the bunch. Lives in Greenpoint.

Jo Anne Simon: Endorsed by many state and local politicians. Articulate.

Evan Thies: Sits on boards of Newtown Creek Alliance and NAG. Lives in Williamsburg. Believes in mandatory inclusionary zoning (as opposed to Yassky's belief in voluntary). Believes schools should offer ROTC. Quietly earnest.

Open for Debate

2009-05-18T20:27:00.003-04:00

Come out tomorrow night, 7:00-8:30 p.m., to hear all the contenders for David Yassky's 33rd District (that's us!) seat talk about what they would do if elected to our splendid little City Council.

The candidates are...drum roll please...Isaac Abraham, Ken Baer, Doug Biviano, Ken Diamondstone, Steve Levin, Jo Anne Simon, and Evan Thies.

They'll be duking it out at Harry Van Arsdale High School's auditorium, at North 6th and Roebling.

People are, of course, talking about the competition (and have been for a while), and we'll just have to wait to know the certain outcome until it's cold again and Brooklyn craving pumpkin pie.

Carrying One Away

2009-05-16T20:54:00.012-04:00

“Night was a wonderful time in Brooklyn in the 1930s. Air conditioning was unknown except in movie houses, and so was television. There was nothing to keep one in the house. Furthermore, few people owned automobiles, so there was nothing to carry one away. That left the streets and the stoops. The very fullness served as an inhibition to crime.” So says Isaac Asimov, one of the science fiction greats. Brooklyn itself was alien to my eyes on Thursday night, when I docked again on Withers Street after sailing a westward sea of tumbleweeds, rockpowder blued lakes, towering granite, heartbreakingly green trees, pheasants, sloping desert, pronghorn antelope, and a million other sights that set my eyes roaring for 10 days, six new states, and 5,600 miles.

Last night, wending homeward after a John Prine concert (opened by the lanky and talented Justin Townes Earle, who looked like he stepped out of the radio Appalachia of O Brother, Where Art Thou?), Williamsburg was a carnival of laughter, jibes, drunken posturing, and other martian exhibits. If Tony in Glasgow, Montana, thinks Missoula is the big city, Brooklyn is certainly an intergalactic stop. You can't hear the Macks' Deadwood, South Dakota, windchimes. You can't hear the wingbeats of geese following Route 12 through Packwood, Washington. But...there's the newly leafed tree feathering the expressway, there's the good Settepani coffee, there's the man on the bicycle with a cat on his shoulder...yes...home, circus, and universe at once.

The amazing thing is that we don't live toward the future, as Asimov might have thought. We bend toward the past, seeing its light in stars today and burning its variously hard and liquid black life to fuel our lives. The former sparked the quiet canopy over Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and rushed overhead as I wound through the Cascades toward Sisters, Oregon. The latter manifested itself as I ran among pick-ups rigged for the oil fields surrounding Williston, North Dakota, and raced a fully loaded coal train between Lusk and Van Tassel, Wyoming, hauling its sooty cargo out of the Powder River Basin to light up the East.* Journeylong, glaciered crevasses and crests reminded me of what was and what is to come, with humankind an impressionistic fleck on a fathomless canvass.

So. There are a lot of ways to measure a trip: miles, rivers, pie, native reservations, highways, mountain ranges. Mostly, though, there's the way you live when you come back.

*In a brilliant 2005 article, the New Yorker's John McPhee describes the coal industry's inexorable erosion of Wyoming, and revels in the particulars of the rails: "Run a coal train out of the Powder River Basin and down to Kansas and Arkansas and across the South into Georgia. The steepest grade you encounter is 1.5 percent, on track that to the eye seems close to level. You can discern that it is going up or down, but it will not remind you of Crested Butte. It will seem less steep than the East Pacific Rise. Yet a loaded coal train running wide open in Notch 8 can attack a 1.5-percent grade and soon be beaten down under ten miles an hour."

Stories from Union Pool

2009-04-29T10:45:00.016-04:00

Aileen had to go home to edit tape from the Pen World Voices Festival, while Jess was thrilled that her random date with Jess had gone well. Brian and Corrina said they were moving once Brian returned from Thailand. In the yard, Daniel stood in a circle with his friends, but it didn't stop Katie from trying to hawk CDs by the talented Rebecca Schiffman. ("She looks like Natalie Portman," Tiffany said to someone, just as Gowri said to Tiffany, "She looks like Natalie Portman.") Back inside, Gregor and the storyteller (sad about the lack of cherry in the whiskey sour) listened to Keith introduce the North Brooklyn Story Project and then watched the crowd go nuts for The Blue Album Group, playing songs from Weezer's The Blue Album. Outside again, Tammy defended eating burritos and ramen for breakfast, while Shannon recounted rinsing the rotten milk from her cereal, and Garrett said that cultural Christians might indeed exist. Janos and gang were going strong in a back corner, making friends with an adjacent table through Maia's urban games. Someone was getting sick on the street. Someone was buying an avocado. Elsewhere in the city, people were going to sleep, waking up, and thinking of each other.

Onlooking

2009-04-27T22:34:00.003-04:00

A local artist, Brandon Fonville, recently sent me a series of photographs he took of a car/tractor-trailer accident Under the BQE, near Broadway and South 9th.

"She had never imagined that curiosity is one of the many masks of love." - Gabriel García Márquez

Story on Story Project

2009-04-23T12:39:00.004-04:00

Read all about it! And come out for the North Brooklyn Story Project Benefit Concert, this coming Tuesday, 4/28, 8 p.m., Union Pool.

C is for Cookie (and Brooklyn is for Cookies!)

2009-04-20T22:49:00.003-04:00

Gersh Kuntzman needs Settepani. As a matter of fact, I think that all Brooklynites should submit their favorite cookie to The Brooklyn Paper, which could show its borough love by hosting a contest!

Williamsburg Faces

2009-04-20T21:03:00.002-04:00

"Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there." - Anne Sexton

Seeing Yesterday

2009-04-19T14:52:00.003-04:00

It was a perfect spring day. Bikes rode, trees reclined, skies looked, and strolls ambled, in Williamsburg and later in Chinatown. The BQE is in love with the lovers.

(Out Daniel and Terence's window.)

(Under the BQE, literally.)

(Manhattan and Meeker.)

(Graham Avenue.)

(McGorlick Park.)

Happy Birthday Cyberspace

2009-04-16T12:06:00.005-04:00

Under the BQE turned 1 on Tuesday; to celebrate, I fed a Settepani pignoli tart to my computer.

Great Seed-Balls of Flowers

2009-04-16T11:45:00.004-04:00

NAG's open space committee was recently featured on NPR.

In other neighborhood news, come out for these dates:

Saturday April 25th: Affordable Housing Forum at Boricua College (6th Street between Bedford and Driggs), 10:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m. Long-time Italian, Hispanic, and Polish residents will tell their stories, and organizers will share information on housing rights.

Monday April 27th: Williamsburg Walks informational meeting at 211 Ainslie and Manhattan, 7 p.m. A car-free Bedford is a wonderful thing to many (but not to all). (Photo courtesy NAG.)

Tuesday April 28th: North Brooklyn Story Project Benefit Concert at Union Pool, 8 p.m. We're raising money for interviewing and archiving equipment!

And (hip hip!), East River State Park will host Pool Parties (River Parties?) this summer! Great news for everyone who loves music, summer, and hipsters.

Poem and Music Interlude (for the end, delayed, of winter)

2009-04-14T22:03:00.003-04:00

At Verb Café

Too soon to tell, I am missing
a person best described
as a warm room on a cold day.
To miss: to crave present someone
absent, to feel luckier in solitude,
to be excused for talking to oneself
and poetry. The horizon is lit
for snow, while somewhere else
is California. To travel: to slow time
by dropping a valise into
routine’s metal works, to forget
where you are for a moment
in the morning. At the next
table, a man and woman spark
conversation like a casual
cigarette. To meet: to skate, to laugh
out loud in church. Out the window
a man stops the pedals
of a bicycle and stands straddling
it in gloves printed with skeleton
hands. Across the street a funeral
home has set up shop beneath
clean rooms with plants
in the windows. To live above
a funeral home: to live.
White flakes begin to float,
to descend, to pair and part
and charm the momentary air.

-----

Jolie Holland..."Goodbye California":

-----

And The National, who are touring with Colin Stetson, one of the first people I ever met in Williamsburg (Christmas Eve 2005)..."Green Gloves" (in Central Park, last year):

Saying Yeah Yeah

2009-04-05T14:36:00.005-04:00

Spring? Not yet. Spring? Not yet. Spring? Not frigging yet. But at least the sun is out today. I've been sick, and will shortly be making my way into the outdoors, wearing a scarf and sunglasses, pretending that the BQE is the seashore and I a chic convalescent.

The two events that brought me to this state of feverish delirium are no doubt:

1. My family's recent visit, which, though wonderful, involved walking through every neighborhood south of 59th Street, spending a day on a boat to and around Ellis Island, drinking every night, and eating things I usually do not eat (e.g., pizza):

and

2. The Brian Jonestown Massacre concert at Terminal 5 on Wednesday, the day after the fam departed. Being a part of this show involved getting lost underground (where a friendly caipora and I made each other's reacquaintance), making amends as a train roared into the station, sprinting through the rain from 59th Street/Broadway to 56th Street/12th Avenue, and standing for four hours while ravers gyrated around us and the people continuously tripped over our bags. But it was worth it. Why? One word: Joel.

Finally, someone recently pinned up a deer cut out of grass on North 10th (and, related to BQE-related photographs, Eye Level BQE is now accepting BQE-related submissions):

Convalescence aside, it doesn't get much better than this.

Poem Interlude

2009-03-25T21:12:00.001-04:00

Parade

From the mother I came from came
one-half the mothers or fathers
of my grandchildren, as an upside
down tree’s branches become
its roots. I want my inverted self
to be as different from myself
as I get, but it’s through the glass
that all the sense starts to make
itself so. My inverted self is no
different from you, my left
eye your right, myself no different
than the strange progeny looking
down time to find me, waiting
to be given whatever’s theirs.

Thursday Night

2009-03-25T11:49:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow night, at 211 Ainslie @ Manhattan, everyone who's anyone will be talking community, at the first NAG organizing meeting of spring.

What's happening, you ask?

We're all pulling together to stop subway and bus cuts, fight for new parks, save affordable housing, make streets safer for bikers and pedestrians, and preserve community diversity and character in Williamsburg and Greenpoint.

Also, for those who want some fresh air in the coming days, know that East River State Park is back in business, thanks to the efforts of Assemblyman Joe Lentol and others.

Come on out.

Me: Chilling Out

2009-03-22T22:54:00.002-04:00

Current music: Cold War Kids, Robbers and Cowards (2006).

p.s. Shoveling compost, unbagging leaves, and breathing the new spring air was very therapeutic on Saturday. And, speaking of compost...Crest Hardware is now accepting kitchen scraps.

All Along the Day

2009-03-19T19:52:00.007-04:00

The Obamas are planting a garden on the White House lawn. Covering 1,100 square feet, the garden will provide vegetables for the family's meals and serve as a locavore model for all of us.

Speaking of...it's community-supported agriculture (CSA) season, and there's a new farm in town. The Southside CSA will offer produce grown on MimoMex Farm in Goshen; along with shares of vegetables, fruit, and eggs, the farm will offer two types of wine share (ostensbily New York City's first), both of which include regular wine tastings and food pairing suggestions. Pick-up for all shares will be on Monday evenings at Bridget (Broadway at Kent, "the place is organic in the best sense of the word.").

(MimoMex farmers; the photo is not mine.)

Meanwhile, the North Brooklyn Story Project and North Brooklyn Compost Project are kicking off their own seasons soon, and spring, generally, is springing up in the most unexpected places (not just E Street)...

Finally, what goes better with spring than birds...and especially Andrew Bird, whom I'm getting to know thanks to D.

He writes things like, "I was getting ready to be a threat / I was getting set for my / accidental suicide/ the kind where no one dies / no one looks too surprised / then you realize / that you're riding on a para-success / of a heavy-handed metaphor / and a feeling like you've been here before / because you've been here before/ and you've been here before."

Weekend Recap

2009-03-15T23:22:00.003-04:00

Development is both stalled and not in North Brooklyn, as evidenced by lots seeded for ailanthus and newly poised cranes. On Saturday I sought images on North 10th. Saturday night was the second in a monthly dinner party series hosted by T, E, J, and myself, this one themed breakfast for dinner. I think the recession makes laughter (and French gimlets) all the more sweet.

I think she is speaking her heart, but she may not be speaking at all.

The building to come in this lot will block my view of Manhattan.

This building's days may be numbered.

Sideways heart with bricks.

I See Your Doom and Raise You Happiness

2009-03-10T22:53:00.009-04:00

Is it just me, or is the recession making people friendlier and life more serendipitous? Here are a few examples from recent days in the hood:

1. Stoop conversations with some of the long-time Italian residents on my block about job losses. "Do you have money?" Nick asked. I turned my pockets out: "Empty pockets." Pete: "Hey, that used to be a great bar in Queens."

2. A barista at Verb, my Sunday habit (bathroom art below), teasing me for my coffee-drinking skills when my cup kept dripping. I continue to maintain that it was a leaky cup.

3. Seven random encounters with Williamsburg friends (Tiffany, Keith, Janos, Daniel, and Rob, some more than once) on the L (did you know that between 1928 and 1967 it was the #16?), on subway platforms, and on the streets.

4. Another patron at Hana, overhearing my exchange with the counter guy (Me: I'm getting this eco drain cleaner 'cause I have cats. Him: Do you love your cats? Me: Do I what? Do I love my cats? Him: Yeah. Me: Ha ha. No, I HATE them.), saying, after I purchased Earthworm, "I couldn't help overhear...you have cats. Me too. Organic products never work for this sort of thing." After which we had a friendly conversation that ended with my saying I would go home, make my drain smell like lemon and thyme, and return to spend more money on something toxic.

5. In the spirit of a reviving Bohemia, a Japanese fellow at Verb this past Sunday interrupting my poem revisions to say that I had tiny handwriting that indicated I was a creative. He turned out to be a painter and asked me to write a poem in exchange for a drawing, on the spot. His offering to me:

6. Standing on the corner of Withers and Union, with empty lots on three sides and trees, now against the sky, one day to be silhouetted on buildings. A girl walking a dog crossed to my side of the street, despite the late hour, and struck up a conversation. "This is Ella," she said, pointing to a black-and-white bulldog. When I tried to pet Ella, her owner said that she's afraid of people because she thinks everyone has a camera phone and is trying to take her picture. "Well, she's cute," says I. "She looks like a cat."

Signing off with Andrew Bird:

Simply Yay

2009-03-10T19:41:00.002-04:00

And yay again. There's a lot of coverage of the project already. Don't forget to come out to NAG tomorrow for the kick-off meeting.

Poem Interlude

2009-03-10T19:20:00.001-04:00

Bizarre

Ann got laid among vines
but her mind was all blue.
She’s painting a peacock
now, all childless plumes – see
how they catch the sky
and give it back? If sex
is a line, painting is the space
between, where color dwells
and climax lasts and lasts.

Photo courtesy RW.

Goodbye Gowanus

2009-03-05T22:11:00.004-05:00

Working to promote the North Brooklyn Story Project, I just learned that Bob Guskind, creator of The Gowanus Lounge, died yesterday. This is a major loss for bloggers and blog readers alike...and a testament to the tight bonds of the Brooklyn blogging community: after seeing that Gowanus messages were going unanswered, Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn reached out to the Medical Examiner's Office, which confirmed Bob's passing. As a tribute to him and the wry, insightful posts he penned, let's keep up the good dialogue.

It's Happening!

2009-03-05T21:40:00.004-05:00

What: North Brooklyn Story Project Introductory Meeting
When: Wednesday, March 11th, 7 p.m.
Where: Neighbors Allied for Good Growth headquarters: 101 Kent Avenue at 9th Street

The North Brooklyn Story Project is looking for people with stories to share about our community, and people who can listen to and record these stories.

The project is a new initiative of Neighbors Allied for Good Growth (NAG), a community organization that has been serving North Brooklyn since 1994. The project was developed to get residents talking and listening to each other – to build a vibrant and friendly North Brooklyn community.

The first step? To find people interested in telling their stories and people interested in interviewing them. Together, interviewers and storytellers will create an archive of North Brooklyn stories that all of us can use to feel connected to our diverse neighbors and neighborhoods – past, present, and future.

No special skills or equipment required – just ears and a voice. If you're interested, please come to the North Brooklyn Story Project Introductory Meeting, on Wednesday, March 11th, at 7 p.m. The meeting will take place at NAG headquarters (101 Kent Avenue at North 9th Street). At the meeting, we’ll discuss an upcoming training to be offered to our group by the Brooklyn Historical Society, as well as your ideas for making the project a success.

You can e-mail me with any questions...

Sound...and Another Cat

2009-03-01T12:21:00.002-05:00

Just two more things:

This Friday, March 6th, at 7 p.m., "Resonance in Residence" will open at 3rd Ward. Asks 3rd Ward's Douglas York, "What happens when you put seven artists in a room and ask them to create a sculptural object focusing on sound? A collaborative installation combining 100 algorithmically-controlled, sound-generating motors and field recordings, of course!"

And...how could I talk about cats and not mention Devoe Street's very own Kittens Ablaze?*

*They're really making it! And their informal manager is a wonderful person.

Hiya Kitty

2009-03-01T12:10:00.004-05:00

Mark Twain perhaps said it best, and I paraphrase: "Cats rule."*

And Williamsburg cats especially so. Here's a shameless plug for some new graffiti on Metropolitan and Lorimer and the two pesky critters that reside with me.

*"Of all God's creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the leash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat."

Insert Art Here

2009-02-25T19:56:00.002-05:00

Courtesy Waterfront Preservation Alliance: "At last week's CB1 meeting, Councilmember Yassky's office announced a new public art initiative. The initiative is a response to the rather woeful lack of public art (and opportunities for public art) in a neighborhood of artists. Organized in conjunction with the Open Space Alliance, the North Brooklyn Public Art Coalition 'will be comprised of members of the local arts community, with a mission of scouting out ideal locations for public art in North Brooklyn, actively seeking out partnerships and funding for public art in this area, and keeping its members apprised of all public art opportunities.'"

For starters, someone can decorate the plywood on the corner of Withers and Union. Also, I would have expected a better display than simple black tags on the pure white fence and formerly yellowly festooned trailer on Lorimer and Metropolitan (see photo in 2/9 post). I also think that cranes (those that remain here) could be "ideal locations" for, perhaps, a project involving flowers and Play-Doh and photographs of people playing mandolins. I mean, how has no one thought of this?

Brooklyn Pickles, Melts, Bakes, Deglazes, Cures...and Lustily Devours

2009-02-25T10:19:00.002-05:00

This article features Brooklyn Kitchen and other pioneering Brooklyn shops and cooks. I had a cracker company a few years ago and feel like now might be the time to launch some new food-inspired enterprise. Suggestions welcome.

Fashionably Late

2009-02-21T19:13:00.007-05:00

Extremely last-minute notice, but do come out to The Glasslands tonight (on Kent between South 1st and 2nd) for night two of Williamsburg Fashion Week.

And for inspiration and love and happy feet, listen to songs off the new M. Ward, one of which is featured below. I just saw the man himself at The Apollo and, times before that, I saw him soundcheck on Letterman, an eternity ago, which is to say August 2006.

Bringin' It All Back Home

2009-02-14T19:07:00.001-05:00

Love,
Rachel

Rundown

2009-02-09T21:52:00.005-05:00

"He who's not busy being born is busy dying." -Bob Dylan

Life has been very, very full lately, much of it contained in North Brooklyn, some spilling into other parts of the city. Here's a fact sheet based on recent events, as well as a few cyclical things to put on the calendar (other than waking up, watching the moon wane, slipping underground...):

1. The tamales at Elote (Union near Grand) do not in fact contain chicken; the restaurant is offering a post-Friday the 13th special, which includes half off all bottles of wine (because love=corn-on-the-cob); and Eddie Vedder has a singer-songwriter soul.

2. The Union Pool Chili Takedown smells delicious even if you're not eating chili.

3. According to Mike at Soundfix (who also works at Royal Oak),the space as we know it will close in the next month or two, but they're trying to retain the liquor license for the next occupant. Hello CB1!

4. Melissa at Mousey Brown is wonderful.

5. Something is afoot on the corner of Metropolitan and Lorimer.

6. Campy decor and mango sushi kinda work if you're Kion (6th Street between A and B).

7. Poetry and tomatillos are alive and well on Troutman Street.

8. Poems + friends + injera + frozen yogurt = a lovely night.

(And check out SpeakEasy at Cornelia Street on 2/17, featuring the spectacular JM.)

9. Green card parties are a good idea, especially when guests are earnestly attempting to revive the spirit of 1973.

10. And the Fix Tape Exchange will not die. Folks will convene at a to-be-determined location next month (3/8) to swap mixes built around the theme "Television."

Lions and Tigers and Hipsters, Oh My

2009-02-06T16:41:00.004-05:00

Soundfix is closing at the end of the month, but that doesn't mean there can't be one last mix tape/CD swap, this Sunday evening. The theme is Animals. Come frolic.

Under the BQE: Literally

2009-02-01T18:46:00.001-05:00

212 in 11211 (did someone say phoenix?)

2009-02-01T15:59:00.007-05:00

Engine 212 and other Brooklyn firehouses were closed in 2003 owing largely to shifting populations. These historic structures have met with various fates (even while returning populations beg the question of whether we might actually want firehouses to be firehouses again). 212 is on Wythe and North 8th Street and was awarded by the NYC Economic Development Corporation to People's Firehouse (which manages low-income housing in the neighborhood) and Neighbors Allied for Good Growth.

This Tuesday at 6:00 p.m., NAG will be raising awareness of Engine 212 at Union Pool (because nothing puts out fires like former pool supply stores).

And here's a little pre-party awareness: on Thanksgiving Day 1975, the City told the firefighters of Engine 212 that it was closing the firehouse down owing to (surprise!) a dire fiscal crisis. According to NAG, within hours, a crowd of 300 local residents gathered in front of the firehouse to prevent the City from removing its equipment. For the next 16 months, Williamsburg residents were at the firehouse around the clock, until the City agreed to keep it open. While Engine 212 finally closed in 2003 (sparking more protests), it is now (with our help) being converted into the Northside Town Hall Community and Cultural Center, complete with a street-level gallery for displaying local art and history. Thanks to the Waterfront Preservation Alliance, CB1, Council Member Yassky, and all the nameless engaged.

What the Public Hearing Taught Me

2009-01-29T14:08:00.007-05:00

On Wednesday night, J and I attended one in a series of eight public hearings on the MTA's proposed fare hikes and service reductions. Here's a snapshot of what you missed, and here are other random things yout too could have learned in the crowded and windowless splendor of the Mariott Hotel ballroom:
1. Gratitude for your work, upon seeing the jobs of "Public Hearing Staff" charged with looking helplessly on as protesters chanted and matching the names of people called up to speak with people in the audience armed with hard-to-see yellow slips of paper.
2. Vitamins can perhaps set off metal detectors.
3. David Yassky is a great straight-man to Simcha Felder's stand-up. Example: Yassky begins a dry, to-the-point speech. Felder, quite audibly: "Hey, that's what I said. Yassky is stealing my lines!"
4. Simcha Felder is wise and hilarious. Example of advice given to J and me by the man himself: "At the end of the day, you can't say the same thing over and over. You want to have one thing that they focus on. The cameras are what's important." Example of more hilarity: At 6:00 p.m. on the dot he swapped his yarmulka for a ball cap, stood up, and started clapping and chanting, "6:00 meeting! 6:00 meeting!"
5. Marty Markowitz is also hilarious. Example: "I hear they're cutting service to the G train. [Pause.] I didn't know that was possible."
6. People with disabilities should absolutely not bear the brunt of city transportation costs, by a proposed doubling of Access-A-Ride fares (potentially up to $10 for a round-trip public transportation ride). Proportionally, more people with disabilities turned out to this hearing than any other population. As one citizen speaker said, "If you were increasing fares and cutting services this much for any other minority in the city, there would be riots." Unlike other proposed budget-saving measures, thanks to Mayor Dinkins, Mayor Bloomberg must give written permission before Access-A-Ride hikes can be implemented. As one advocate, carrying a cardboard cutout of the Mayor, asked, "Where's Mike?"
7. George Patton really IS in Brooklyn! One citizen speaker invoked the General, saying, "When times were tough during the war, Patton gassed up the trucks and said, 'Let's go.' He shortened the war by six months, maybe more." While the shout-out was welcome, the parallel is murky. I think what he's trying to say is that creative solutions are never an impossibility.
7. Queens cares! John Liu spoke just after (perhaps future Brooklyn Borough President) Bill DiBlasio. While Liu represents Flushing, it makes sense that he showed up, as Chair of the Council's Transportation Committee. Or perhaps his train was out of service.
8. The MTA Board (and around 10 of them showed up, four of them saying they had ridden public transportation) probably aren't a horrible lot. Even though they did sit very, very far away from the crowd.
9. The elusive Mr. X and the Hasidic powerhouse Isaac Abraham (one of the many people running to fill the 33rd District's Council seat had Yassky been term-limited)...have exactly nothing to say to each other. (Said J, "Their small-talk was painful.")
10. The Williamsburg Courier, represented on Wednesday by Aaron C., absolutely knows that it needs to be online!

Stand Clear of the Closing Doors

2009-01-25T22:42:00.007-05:00

When cramming myself onto the L tomorrow morning, as it makes its painstaking progress toward Manhattan, stopping under the river, pausing in the tunnels, inching its way across good old Manhattan, I'll console myself with the knowledge that, with a special computer program, some investment banking background, a good pair of running shoes, and a lot of free time, you can still make the MTA work for you.

We can't all be world record breakers. But we can all turn out to the next MTA public hearing, at the Marriot under the Brooklyn Bridge (not as cool, of course, as Le Jolie Under the BQE). The hearing is this Wednesday, 1/28, at 6 p.m. For a great rundown of the first of these eight public hearings, see Roving Storm's latest dispatches (which include a great mini-history of the MTA, a smart recap of the ongoing CB1/Yassky/Markowitz/Abate/Toro showdown regarding the Kent Avenue bike lanes, which reduce community parking (let's blame the DOT!), and a nice spotlighting of everyone's favorite New Yorker.

Meanwhile, the one and only Williamsburg Courier recently covered the public funeral for the Z train, complete with BBP Markowitz's own Bard-inspired eulogy: "Friends, New Yorkers, straphangers - I come to praise the Z train, not to bury it [sic]. Though the Z begins in Queens and ends in Manhattan, it is, like the J, Brooklyn to the core."

What else is Brooklyn to the core (or to all three corners)? The Broadway Triangle, 50 acres of East Williambsurg industrial land up for rezoning, and the topic of a town hall meeting tomorrow night, 1/27, at 7 p.m., in the P.S. 250 auditorium (108 Montrose, between Manhattan and Leonard).

And now, in honor of the Z...

Patton in Brooklyn Part II

2009-01-22T11:07:00.003-05:00

"No good decision was ever made in a swivel chair." - George Patton

So come on out tonight and join the conversation, at a committee meeting to preserve community character in Williamsburg/Greenpoint; we'll be developing the North Brooklyn Story Project. The dialogue is brought to you by Neighbors Allied for Good Growth, and will be happenin' in their (swivel chair-free?) offices across from East River State Park* (101 Kent Avenue), at 7:00 p.m.

*The Park is seasonally closed, for a savings of $444.44 per day...a decision no doubt made from a comfy Albany swivel deluxe.

To Consecrate and Begin

2009-01-20T12:37:00.006-05:00

I was on 37th Street and 8th Avenue in the greatest city in the world when Barack Obama became President of the United States. The blessing preceding his swearing in (despite the fact that it was delivered by Rick Warren, who concluded in a decidedly non-ecumenical way) included the preamble of the Sh'ma, stirring up thoughts of my own patchwork childhood, and the words Obama graced us with, he who is restoring us to the power of language, made me proud to be a part of these small and great communities. Out last night, it occurred to G and I that our entire time in NYC - almost eight years - has been defined by the Bush Administration. I feel like I've moved without moving...

"So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America’s birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

'Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it].'

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations."

Winter Three More Ways

2009-01-19T13:59:00.002-05:00

-----

-----

Radio War
by Iron & Wine

Did the wine make her dream
Of the far distant spring
Or a bed full of hens
Or the ghost of a friend

All the while that she wept
She had a gun by her bed
And a letter he wrote
From a dry, foundered boat

And the train track will take
All the wounded ones home
And I’ll be alone
Fare thee well Sara Jones

Now we lie on the floor
While the radio war
Finds its way through the air
Of the dead market square

And the beast never seen
Licks its red talons clean
Sara curses the cold
"No more snow, no more snow, no more snow"

This is Limbo

2009-01-17T23:12:00.009-05:00

Spend some time here.

The artist is the same as Know Hope, who, thanks to Williamsburg is Dead, we know is showing at Ad Hoc Art (take the L to Morgan). Here's a photo of a Know Hope piece on the Bethlehem Barrier:

Know Hope is the same as Adam Yekutieli, a 19-year-old based in Tel Aviv.

Sometimes he puts up worked pieces of cardboard that can be easily removed by the viewer. On the wall behind the cardboard, he writes things.

“I let you borrow my heart for a while, let others borrow it as well.”

"Please (pretty please) help these stutters become an echo."

"Take this scar and help me mend it into the biggest map the world's ever seen."

Out to Pilgrimage

2009-01-17T19:42:00.003-05:00

It's true, America.

I've got half an eye on The Real Housewives of Orange County (free admission to a zoo of stupidity that scarily informs more American values than we perhaps care to note), and most of my attention on an Esquire article by the wonderful Tom Junod, who has another great piece in the current edition ("As soon as America was attacked, Americans were told that what was really attacked was their freedom; in retrospect, however, it seems clear that the terrorists were aiming at the target that was most vulnerable and exposed - our economy. Our freedom, after all, was not in their power to destroy: it was in ours.")

Earlier today, first running at the gym and then studying Hebrew at a café, I joined with surrounding strangers to catch coverage of Obama's train ride to Washington. (He echoed Lincoln's 12-day journey from Illinois to Washington in 1861. History is the greatest, saddest poem: Lincoln returned to Illinois by train in 1865.)

Advertisements at this moment are invoking the Old West to sell the New West, selling pregnancy tests, selling diets, and selling re-runs of the Golden Globes. Meanwhile, there's a tenuous ceasefire in Gaza; American banks look after number one (that is, not Americans: "We’re not going to change our business model or our credit policies to accommodate the needs of the public."); and seas continue rising (on this day in history: "The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.")

It's true, America, and sometimes I can only think of Ginsberg and what he would say and what he said:

"Toward what city
will I travel? What wild houses
do I go to occupy?
What vagrant rooms and streets
and lights in the long night
urge my expectation? What genius
of sensation in ancient
halls? what jazz beyond jazz
in future blue saloons?
what love in the cafés of God?

I thought, five years ago
sitting in my apartment,
my eyes were opened for an hour
seeing in dreadful ecstasy
the motionless buildings
of New York rotting
under the tides of Heaven.

There is a god
dying in America
already created
in the imagination of men
made palpable
for adoration:
there is an inner
anterior image
of divinity
beckoning me out
to pilgrimage.

O future, unimaginable God."

Winter Three Ways

2009-01-14T23:05:00.009-05:00

It was cold last night, and D and I supped at Lodge, which was warm and friendly as a mug of cocoa with friend-shaped marshmallows. (The spot, on Grand and Havemeyer, shares owners with Urban Rustic.) The daily printed vegetarian card had several nice options, including house-made seitan, which only suffered from a bit too much oil in the accompanying greens. D's supper (viva la France!) was a classic salmon with spinach and lentils. The waiter was rad (a California boy lost in the faux Adirondaks?) and D did his Paula Dean impersonation toward the end of the evening, which was, with laughter, better than dessert.

-----

Down Low
by A.R. Ammons

Snowstorms high-traveling,
furry clouds blur over
our zero air:
wind steams (or
smokes) fine snow
off the eaves, settled ghosts
trailing up and away:
the pheasant, too cold to
peck, stands on one foot
like a stiff weed.

-----

Patton in Brooklyn Part 1

2009-01-12T20:24:00.003-05:00

"If you are going to win any battle, you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do - the body is never tired if the mind is not tired."

Someday I'll write an essay about everything General George Patton has meant to me since I was a kid carrying around a wooden rubber-band gun in lieu of an ivory-handled revolver. Suffice it to say now that it has something to do with his belief in history and poetry and G-d, and a lot to do with his determination to meet his destiny each day and transform himself into what the world needed him to be. His life is a constant inspiration.

This new series will include thoughts on the man, whose thoughts on the BQE one can only imagine (travesty of design, marvel of will?), pieces of his talks and writings, and general courage in the face of war or, in today's case, January.

Moviehouse at 3rd Ward

2009-01-11T10:38:00.004-05:00

Three bands are sharing their professional music videos, then performing live tonight at 3rd Ward, which, while it sounds like a bar, is in fact a collective space where artists can make art, anyone can take classes, and the public is invited from time to time for events like Moviehouse. I like to think of it as the essence of hipsterdom, without the bitter aftertaste.

Poem Interlude

2009-01-10T18:07:00.000-05:00

Snowing

I hope you are in the city
for then the snow is falling
and space is the feeling
of your warm hand in my mind.

If you are here, then
I don’t need to tell you
it’s collecting on bricks,
catching the headlights
of cabs, and giving
momentary proof
to our passing.

If you are here, brightness
lingers and blue shadows
hold the world close.

Spores Galore

2009-01-10T13:29:00.005-05:00

New at the McCarren Park farmers' market: mushrooms!

Madura Farms just began offering at least seven types of mushroom at the market, costing around $6-$8 for 1/2-lb. The mushrooms are grown in "mushroom houses" (heh) near Goshen, about 66 miles from North Brooklyn. Madura Farms also sells produce at the Union Square and Tompkins Square markets. I chatted with two proprietors today, who explained that the mushrooms are grown organically but not certified organic, and yet they're cleaner and better than nearly any other mushroom because conditions must be pristine in order to successfully cultivate mushrooms indoors. Also, these mushrooms are super-fresh, just harvested this morning. I'm going to make oyster and cremini soup.

Also, if you want your apartment to smell like a forest, they're chippering trees near the market, and there's a heap of spicy tree bits by the track.

The Winter Greens

2009-01-10T09:51:00.006-05:00

A much better alternative to the winter blues are the winter greens, in the form of a share of the Garden of Eve's cold-weather produce. Heading over to the park now to pick up more than 20 lbs. of vegetables, eggs, apples, yogurt, and grain. Vegetables will include carrots, leeks, kale, cabbage, daikon, beets, squash, kohrabi, potatoes, and sweet potatoes (okay, so it's really the winter greens and browns and purples and oranges). Makes me wish I had a root cellar. I do have a freezer full of compost scraps, though, so the next step is to head in to the Union Square Greenmarket drop-off location. It's nice to think about how, in these cold months, peels and parings are creating heat and food for spring.

Finally, for the sake of randomness and love, and on the heels of a killer conversation about earnestness in Williamsburg and singer-songwriters, here's a little video homage that (aside from the weird gold light at the end) does in 2:28 what I've been attempting for nine months:

Untitled

2009-01-08T20:54:00.001-05:00

Bohemia Calling

2009-01-08T16:49:00.006-05:00

I'm sitting in hand-chopped fingerless gloves in my freezing apartment, thinking that there's never enough time for poetry, and when there is, there's never enough good poetry (Wilde said, "All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling," and I can't help but hope sometimes to stop feeling long enough to write some things down).

Are there still bohemians out there? There's a lot of posturing, but I don't think the two options have to be adulthood or fake bohemianism (read: Urban Outfitters). What did the beats, niks, merry pranksters, dandies, goths, hipsters, hippies, indies, punks, diggers, and others have in common? Well...maybe nothing. But I think it has to start with some passion (passion before fashion, yo), a dash of social commitment, and one or two or more people willing to live their slight little lives in a slightly different way.

Actually, as I think about it, it's all relative: to be a Left Bank bohemian in the early 20th century meant working your ass off to live somewhere in the thick of it, making art or songs or dance or plays. Today, one just has to make a little more to do the same thing. The link is the tension...finding time in the midst of insanity to make things.

But snapping out of my reverie, here are some thoughts from the estimable Driggs on the Williamsburg art scene these days:

And here's a way to let your feet do the talking, tomorrow:

Unless you just want to hunker down and channel Warhol, which could also be good: “I had a lot of dates but I decided to stay home and dye my eyebrows.”

Untitled (Day 11)

2009-01-06T22:10:00.006-05:00

Inside Jack the Pelican Presents, on Driggs and North 10th.

Leonard Cohen in Spain.

Poem Interlude

2009-01-04T23:05:00.002-05:00

The Vow

“I’ll swing on my rings,
setting it all to notes,
setting it all to flame.
I’ll juggle it all, as if
the planets weren’t
suspended of their own
accord, as if the stars
were cool enough to hold.
(And if I need more hands,
will you lend me yours?)
Once aloft, I swear to
stay put, my elliptical
orbit like a pulse, like a
promise – to hold sky and
sound above all else.”

The Voice that Rises at the End of a Question

2009-01-02T11:04:00.004-05:00

Dying continues in Israel and Gaza.

"Hamas called on Palestinians in the West Bank and in East Jerusalem to mark Friday as a 'day of wrath' by holding marches after noon prayers."

“'There is no humanitarian crisis' in Gaza, [Tzipi Livni, Israel's Foreign Minister,] said, 'and therefore there is no need for a humanitarian truce.'

"Israeli human rights groups have issued an urgent appeal to Ehud Barak, the Defense Minister, demanding that Israel restore fuel supplies to Gaza to ensure the proper functioning of hospitals, water wells and other vital humanitarian institutions."

How does one stir up wrath after praying? How is it not a humanitarian crisis when rockets and bombs launched by people are killing hundreds of people? (Livni, to be fair, has long advocated for peace and was a key figure in the movement to have the pullout from Gaza ratified by the Knesset.) How do we reconcile the fact that bombings to weaken Hamas are in fact weakening the Palestinian Authority and moderates who might be the best forgers of peace? There aren't clear answers, but there's a sadness in the air, to which perhaps the best humanitarian response is a poem:

Look: Thoughts and Dreams
by Yehuda Amichai

Look: thoughts and dreams are weaving over us
their warp and woof, their wide camouglage-net,
and the reconnaissance planes and God
will never know
what we really want
and where we are going.

Only the voice that rises at the end of a question
still rises above the world and hangs there,
even it it was made by
mortar shells, like a ripped flag,
like a mutilated cloud.

Look, we too are going
in the reverse-flower-way:
to begin with a calyx exulting toward the light,
to descend with the stem growing more and more solemn,
to arrive at the closed earth and to wait there for awhile,
and to end as a root, in the darkness, in the deep womb.

Happiness and Koi

2009-01-01T15:32:00.009-05:00

A gang of us began New Year's here at 37 (sushi and thumbrint cookies kinda do go together!), then moved on to Joseph's friends' tiki loft to end all tiki lofts, up the road in Greenpoint (hurrah for the G dance). With a koi pond, DJs galore, plants creeping ceiling-ward, a lovely and hazardous wall of candles, and dance dance dancing, the once industrial space offered up everything one could want for a holiday that cruelly lures people to do better while ensuring that they wake up feeling ill.

(Photo not mine.)

To 2008

2008-12-31T17:36:00.010-05:00

This year has been exactly what it needs to be, and I am so grateful for everything it contained, like a great sea or like a suitcase packed for an unknown destination. The song at the end of this New Year post, by Neutral Milk Hotel, was released in 1998, 10 years ago. I was about to come to New York City by train, my first time here since 1990, for a one-day trip with my grandparents when I was 11. That week in 1998, I visited an old pen-pal but mostly wandered the city, staying at the Gershwin Hotel and seeing Art, Les Mis, and Madame Butterly at the Met. I wandered through Central Park in the surprising snow and went to the other Met to find the Chagalls. I was 18.

I wouldn't be telling you all of this were it not for the past year, which launched this blog, new friendships, new roles at work, airplanes to India and Ireland and Scotland, a journey to Alabama, steps toward 495 miles of running, new poetry, a new President, explorations of Jewish and artistic and neighborhood communities...and something that happens to be on my mind today, which loops in the Metropolitan Opera and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, along with snow and walking and community...blue lights and yams and me turned inside-out. This song is my heart on my sleeve:

"And in my dreams you're alive and you're crying,
As your mouth moves in mine, soft and sweet,
Rings of flowers round your eyes and
I’ll love you for the rest of your life (when you’re ready)."

Life as Prayer

2008-12-30T21:57:00.004-05:00

I've returned to Brooklyn by by way of O'Hare, Midway, Albany, and (two days later) forested, still snowy Phoenecia. I feel like I've been away for weeks, only to get off the train tonight and run into T. We tried out Kenny's Trattoria (7 Withers, just west of Union), the new casual Italian spot opened by...Kenny (who formerly owned the well reviewed Brick Oven Gallery). The spiraled gnocchi were pretty good, like an adult version of macaroni and cheese. The ravioli of the day were a little strange, the "pasta" resembling wonton wrappers. The salads are fresh and big enough to share.

It's good to be home. There's a lot going on in the world, as usual, with the Hamas-Israel conflict taking center stage. I don't pretend to understand the full weight of politics and religious history bringing itself to bear on this poor holy region. Hamas wants to destroy Israel and instigates in words, propaganda, and the murder of students; Israel responds in such a way as to kill hundreds of innocent people. Where does it end? I pray for an end that preserves the most lives and the most capacity for wonder, kindness, and understanding, which seem like light, airy things now but which are of fundamental importance. Back in Brooklyn, with the little daily pleasures of cats and the BQE like a stream and strange ravioli, I pray for an ever-expanding sense of wonder.

"To pray is to regain a sense of the mystery that animates all beings, the divine margin in all attainments. Prayer is our humble answer to the inconceivable surprise of living. It is all we can offer in return for the mystery by which we live. Who is worthy to be present at the constant unfolding of time? Amidst the meditation of mountains, the humility of flowers - wiser than all alphabets - clouds that die constantly for the sake of his glory, we are hating, hunting, hurting. Suddenly we feel ashamed of our clashes and complaints in the face of the tacit glory of nature. It is so embarrassing to live! How strange we are in the world, and how presumptuous our doings! Only one response can maintain us: gratefulness for witnessing the wonder, for the gift of our unearned right to serve, to adore, and to fulfill. It is gratefulness which makes the soul great." Abraham Joshua Heschel

To Be

2008-12-23T22:39:00.004-05:00

I tripped on some ice on Leonard Street tonight and actually seemed to bang my knee back into place. These little brushes with mortality remind me of the bliss of days.

At the end of a 1973 lecture, Bernstein said, "I'm no longer quite sure what the question is, but I do know that the answer is Yes."