Greenpoint
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Culture on the Cheap
Greenpoint just got a little bit uglier
The recent torrential downpour(s) have made “Dung of the Day” pickins’ pretty slim. But “dog shit” isn’t merely canine effluvia, it’s a state of mind. Which brings me to this steaming pile of shit my husband and I happened across last night at 198 Green Street…
Who the? What the? OH MY GOD!!! As if the facade’s strong resemblance to a sub-zero refrigerator isn’t bad enough, check out the front door…
And exactly who (or what) will live behind this door? Frau Blucher immediately comes to mind. This isn’t a house, it’s a fucking fortification— which may not be such a bad idea given that some neighborhood (wannabe) toughs hurled an object in my direction as I gawked at this atrocity. Frankly, it makes me want to hurl something at (or my dinner on) it too.
I’m guessing this is a light fixture. The first of three to be installed along the top of this building. I for one would like to propose that upon completion these be used as gallows for the owner of this property, the ‘designer’ responsible for this ‘design concept’ and the contractor who enabled it to happen.
Shits Ahoy!
A few days ago I put up (yet another) post about the all the friggin’ dog shit on my block. The following is the closing line from this post:
But the question that nags at me is this: do these people simply not notice all the dog shit in front of their buildings or do they not care?
The check my mouth cut to kismet May 8th was cashed May 10th, dear readers. So much for ‘float’. Anyhoo… today around 12:30 p.m. I headed down to the Greenpoint Coffee House to get some iced tea. When I reached 93 Green Street this is what I found:
1. an unattended (lonely and unleashed) dog and…
2. a bunch of dog shit.
Now jump forward to 8:00 p.m. this same day…
My husband, a friend of ours from out of town and I were walking down Green Street (again). We reached 97 Green Street and this is what we saw:
1. May 8th’s “Dung of the Day” kicked into the street and…
A SIGN!
I am happy to know someone (other than myself) gives a damn, but he/she should consult this guy for sign-making tips.
***UPDATE 5/13/06*** The sign is gone and so is the dog shit. HOORAY!
Treasure this way ——–> Code Brown
Filed under: Dog Shit
Yesterday evening when I left my apartment to check out what is left of the Greenpoint Terminal Market I discovered that our Superintendent’s daughter had been quite busy decorating our sidewalk with chalk drawings. I am not a person who is big on kids, but I have to admit that the mural she created was damned cute. Aside from writing “I (heart) NY” over and over, she wrote more cryptic messages, like the one below.
As I proceeded down the sidewalk towards Franklin, however, this message took on an entirely different meaning: from 143 to 101 Green Street I came across a bounty of ‘sidewalk spuds’. Be advised that this is the short list; I have excluded turds that are already documented (and are still to be found at this location).
I have never caught anyone in the act, but I have a pretty clear idea of who the offenders are. One need not be Sherlock Holmes (or even Inspector Clouseau) to observe that ALL of this dog shit is localized in front and adjacent to lofts where dogs (and their owners) reside. This is not conjecture on my part; I have seen the owners and their dogs hanging out in front of these buildings many, many times.
I know very little about the people who live in these lofts aside from the fact that most (if not all) are hipsters in their 20’s and are clearly from out-of-state. It is probably not unreasonable to surmise that their rent is being subsidized, if not paid for outright, by their parents.
That said, I seriously doubt their parents (and the community organizations they undoubtedly belong to) back in suburban wherever would look kindly on this behavior. Why should it be any different here?
Perhaps these peeps have always had someone to pick up their shit and wipe their bottoms?
Perhaps they are acting out because mommy and daddy do not love them enough to pony up the money needed to live on Bedford Avenue?
Perhaps they were raised by wolves?
NAH!
I’m chocking this up to LAZINESS and ENTITLEMENT. Wake up and smell the dog shit. It’s time to grow up and assume some shred of responsibility kiddos!
McGuinness Blvd. Redux
Another day, another trek down McGuinness, another bounty of refuse.
Having lived in Greenpoint for almost six years, I am fascinated by the recent surge of condominium construction on McGuinness Boulevard. I have seen a number of developments going up along this strip from roughly Calyer Street northward, and I have frequently wondered to myself: why would anyone want to live there? Thus far, the best answer I can come up with is that these developers are banking on P.T. Barnum: there’s a sucker born every minute.
McGuinness Boulevard (to those of you not in the know) is a busy (READ: loud) thoroughfare. When the Pulaski Bridge is drawn (on a humidelicious hot summer day), the emissions from all the backed up vehicular traffic is thick enough to eat to spread on your toast. The fact that crossing McGuinness is in and of itself a death-defying task does not help matters. It is common knowledge among the locals here, myself included, that speeding cars hit buildings and other inanimate objects regularly. This being so, what chance does a slow-moving, less sturdily built biped have?
If any Hollywood hack sees fit to remake the movie Death Race 2000 —and why not, it’s a better movie than most of the ‘new’ crap the dream factory is churning out nowadays— I wholeheartedly endorse, no, I ADVOCATE, McGuinness Boulevard as the location to use.
Traffic-related concerns aside, there are a host of other reasons not to purchase one of these condos:
1. For starters, these properties are all in close proximity to the Fire Department. This is a good thing if you happen to pull a “Pryor” and set yourself on fire while free-basing, but for the rest of us, the roar of fire trucks at all hours may prove to be an annoyance.
2. Let’s say you purchase an apartment on a higher floor (away from the din of traffic), you can expect one of two things:
A. The view of Manhattan you were promised by your broker will be short-lived (once towers are tossed up on West Street).
B. You will have a ‘scratch and sniff’ view of the water treatment plant.
Lastly, it should be noted that the caliber of person who frequents McGuinness Boulevard is— how shall way put it— a bit lackluster? Don’t take my word for it, go and hang out at the Taco Bell ‘food court’ yourself. On any given (work) day you will find a motley crew of thugs, junkies, old Polish men sucking and grinding away at their dentures like a cow works a wad of cud, and “Joe Dirt” types whose curricula vitae can be found on a Post Office wall, “America’s Most Wanted” or a milk carton.
If you are not up that, simply walk along McGuinness and you will detect their presence: by their garbage and discarded chicken bones, ye shall know them…
Dog shit (at Java Street and McGuinness Blvd.) notwithstanding…
If I were a fly on the wall, I honestly do not know which of the following I would want to see more:
A. The fool who will pay 1/3 -1/2 million dollars to look at this pile of shit (and numerous other piles of shit, garbage and vomit) every day.
OR
B. The broker/developer pandering these condos and the ‘spin’ he/she will put on the location.
McGuinness Boulevard is decidedly NOT Bedford Avenue— and it never will be— Robert Moses saw to that forty years ago. So, when you see an unwashed, unshaven and mop-headed man on Mickey Guiness rocking an AC/DC shirt, he is not aiming to be ironic or edgy. He attended AC/DC concerts back in the 70’s, got addicted to coke (meth or whatever), and is too shit-ass broke to buy new clothes.
I never knew that drug-addled poverty could be so chic. Thank you, B-Burg ‘Influx’ Hipsters!
A cheap holiday in other people’s misery, as Johnny Rotten put it— a ‘holiday’ made only more piquant when purchased with your parent’s money.
Yeah, that’s tearing the “man” (your old man) a new asshole.
Stupid fucks.
Code Brown: Franklin St.
Filed under: Dog Shit
After several days of rain, I finally ventured out to run a few errands. Being in a terse and rather impatient mood, I walked down Franklin Street instead of Manhattan Avenue. Sure enough, I didn’t have to deal with too many people, but…
Franklin St. at Green St.
Franklin St. between Green and Huron St.
Franklin St. between Huron and India St.
AGAIN, Franklin St. between Huron and India St.
And… Franklin St. at Java St. makes five!
Cock Rings and Cigarettes
I was coming home from running errands yesterday when, about fifteen feet from my front door, something on the ground caught my eye.
I looked closer, and lo, it’s a vibrating cock ring and an empty pack of cigarettes! Looks like someone has been living la vida loca!
Now if there’s one thing Joe Camel has taught us all, it is that EVERYTHING goes down a little easier with a cigarette— including today’s “Dung of the Day”! This bad boy is on Green St. between Manhattan Ave. and Franklin St.
Smoke ’em if you got ’em!
Code Brown: McGuinness Blvd.
Filed under: Dog Shit
Anyone familiar with the northernmost part of Greenpoint will tell you that it is not a very nice place. If anyone ever tries to tell you anything else to the contrary, RUN! He or she is probably a real estate broker, developer, or some other hitherto-unknown creature whose agenda is to separate you from your money.
Don’t believe me? Check this out.
Scroll down to “My Landlord can beat up Your Landlord”. Read it.
Who wrote this, you ask? Yours truly.
Slumlords, gang-banger wannabes, pipe/machete wielding Dominicans/Puerto Ricans/Mexicans, and crackheads aside, another distinguishing feature of this area is dog shit. LOTS of dog shit. ASTRONOMICAL amounts of dog shit.
Just to see if anything has changed since I lived there, I went down to my old ‘hood this morning. Specifically, I went to the area I consider ‘dog shit central’: McGuinness Blvd. between Eagle and Box St.
Upon cursory inspection, I noticed that a handful of the grassy areas between Box and Clay Street have since been filled with cement. My guess is that this measure was taken to discourage dogs from crapping in these beds. Did this deterrent appear to work? Yes. Did it cut down the overall amount of dog shit? NO.
While I applaud the motivation behind such a measure, the underlying logic is blissfully naive. Clearly, whoever concocted this scheme did not take into account how persistent the local populace is regarding the avoidance of cleaning up their dog shit. Ironically, filling in these beds (where one is less likely to step in the shit contained therein) has resulted in dog shit being placed right smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk (where one is more likely to step into a pile of crap).
Way to go, Einstein. Keep it up and maybe one day you’ll be elected president.
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