D.O.B.: Deaf (Dumb) Or Blind

I have yet to get a response from Patricia Lancaster regarding the packet of Greenpoint development gentrification gone wrong goodies I tendered at last week’s Greenpoint mayoral meet-up. This is understandable given the workload I gave her: four sites located in a neighborhood no one (save developers, the real estate agents who profit from them and the inconvenient renters peasants who actually live here) seems to give a shit about.

Nonetheless, I feel compelled to add this to her “to do” list: 154 West Street. These guys love them some illegal weekend construction. I have noted it here and…

HERE.

The above photo was taken on Saturday, October 6 at 5:15 p.m.

Did they have a variance to work this (or any other) weekend? If the “Job Payment History” records from the Department of Building’s own web site are any indication, the answer is NO.

As we learned from this post, after hours variances can be found in the payment history for any given property. $80.00 deposit and $100.00 payment is all it takes for the Department of Buildings to sanction a developer to operate a pile driver on a Saturday.

$180.00

That’s what the peaceful enjoyment of (y)our neighborhood is worth according to the Department of Buildings.

Angry yet? You should be.

Miss Heather

You’ve Been Disapproved!

I never watch television anymore. I have no need; whenever I want entertainment I go for a walk. Greenpoint never fails to provide me some choice morsel of amusement. Like today.

I doubt the creature (bipedal, quadrupedal or otherwise) who gave this smiling suit man a golden shower intended to make a social statement, but he (or she) did. Even the guy smoking high grade weed ten feet upwind of me couldn’t stop laughing. That might have been the pot talking, though.

This objet de pottee is located at 477 Leonard Street. A site whose developer’s application to build a 12 story building (eight stories plus one cellar and three mezzanines) was, ironically enough, rejected by the Department of Buildings. An entity that seemingly hates to say “No”.

To developers, anyway.

Miss Heather

Happy Pulaski Day From Greenpoint!

Those of you who want to get your Polish Pride on might want to check out the parade.

Those of you who are like me* might find purchasing a pair of Polish salt and pepper shakers (and watching caravans of vans blaring Euro-craptastic music tear down the street at breakneck speed) sufficient celebrating. (ASIDE: All in laws, outlaws, and otherwise who are reading this tome take note— each and every one of you are getting these for Christmas.)

Wesoły Boże Narodzenie!

Those of you who aren’t Polish (but want to be) can knock back a celebratory drink (or four) at Mykonos at 253 Grand Street.

And lastly, those of you who want to get your ass kicked you might want to buy one of these.

Szczęśliwy Pulaski Dzień!

Miss Heather

*My surname is Lithuanian. Hence why I was elated when I received the following in the mail yesterday.

Lenin in the front.

Lithuanian love in the back!

Anybody Home?

Last night, as many of you know, the mayor visited our fair burg. I made it a point to arrive early so I could get a seat. I did. I did not, however, have an opportunity to posit any questions to Ms. Lancaster, a woman who is arguably one of Greenpoint’s least favorite public officials. The questions were determined ahead of time by a panel of neighborhood organizations.

The rest of us were encouraged to write a question on an index card with our name and address. We would receive an answer in writing in a week, they said. I couldn’t exactly make my question(s) fit on an index card, so I improvised a solution. Follows is what I handed the Brooklyn Borough Director of the mayor’s Community Affairs Unit. She assured me Ms. Lancaster would receive it. I can only hope so.

It is really a shame I couldn’t posit some of the questions hastily written on this packet of Department of Buildings property profiles. It would have been fun to watch her try to answer them. Here are a few highlights.

143 Huron Street

I have gone off on this site twice: once on New York Shitty, later via The Gowanus Lounge. Here is the first of three complaints about illegal after hours construction at this site. It dates from September 9, 2007.

Note that the “comments” section states this is a previously inspected complaint. Here is the next complaint about after hours construction. It dates from September 19, 2007.

“See previously inspected complaint.” I would presume that to be the one from September 9th, which as we have already seen, tells us to refer to the previously inspected complaint. A little confusing, yes?

The above complaint was finally investigated September 27, 2007. This is hardly what I would call an “emergency response”. It’s too bad they waited so long, if they had inspected two days earlier they might have prevented another complaint from being filed.

Stop work order violation served (after hours work only).

I really wish I had the opportunity to ask Ms. Lancaster what the above means. It is pretty much a given that working after hours is a no-no. Did they have a variance to work this particular evening? Well, it’s kind of hard to tell. Yesterday my buddy over at Greenpointers showed me the only way she could determine whether or not a variance has been issued via the Department of Building’s online information system: via the payment history.

The payments tendered for these variances date from July, presumably for variances used during that month. Even if they weren’t, we have three complaints about after hours construction against two variances. Something isn’t adding up here, folks.

60 Java Street

As indicated in this post on the Gowanus Lounge, I was the person who saw the aftermath of the 51 Java Street ‘collision’ Friday, September 28, 2007. I spoke to the owner of 51 Java Street at length that very evening. He was understandably rattled. His house had been struck twice in three weeks. On a lark, I looped by this block the next day to see how things looked. That’s when I beheld heard this.

A pile driver hammering away at 60 Java Street on an otherwise beautiful Saturday afternoon. I noticed a woman was watching this contraption grind away from her apartment window. I waved her down and we spoke briefly.

You really should call 311 about this.

I said. To wit she replied she had called 311 and the police. No one would do anything. She was under the impression the contractors had permission to do this. Seeing no variance posted I was skeptical. So, I pointed and clicked my way to 60 Java Street’s payment history.

They did. If it is the job of the Department of Buildings to safeguard the public interest, why did they issue a variance to this contractor so he could operate a pile driver on a weekend? This does not strike me as civic-oriented behavior. Neither does the following, for that matter.

Per this screen capture (which was taken this morning) there are no complaints lodged against this property. I know for a fact this is not true; a complaint was lodged. Let’s review:

1. A woman awakens one Saturday morning to the sound of a pile driver.
2. She calls 311 and complains about it.
3. She is told they have permission to do it. Yet…
4. no variances are posted.
5. Her complaint is not logged. It is (seemingly) thrown out.

This is a very inefficient way to do business, Ms. Lancaster. Had this woman known your agency gave these chaps permission to make such a racket, she probably would have taken the matter up with the Department of Buildings, not 311. Perhaps this is the intent: if she does not know about the variances issued for 60 Java, she is barred from taking the matter up with you or your higher ups. Like so many other people in Greenpoint nowadays, she has been effectively removed from the process.

Conversely, I don’t care if this woman called to report that giant bunny rabbits (from 60 Java Street) were attacking her vegetable patch; it should be logged. I wonder how many other complaints such as hers have been (mis)handled in this fashion?

There was much more content in the packet I made for Ms. Lancaster’s edification than I have covered here, dear readers. 48 Box Street was included, as was 53 Java Street. The issues were very diverse and yet I found myself asking the same question over and over:

Ms. Lancaster, what in god’s name are you doing?

I strongly suspect I speak for a number of Greenpoint residents when I ask the above question.

Miss Heather

Post Script: Today my buddy Rachael visited me at work. I told her that I got a picture of the mayor, but I didn’t think it was very good. She asked me why. I told her he had a deer-caught-in-headlights expression on his face. She said, and I quote:

Everyone who leaves Greenpoint has that look on their face.

You know what?

She’s right.

Not Rock Bottom, But Close Enough

I found this sign on Manhattan Avenue. I can think of a number of things that led up to the creation of this sign. All of them are strong indicators that its author needs to go to rehab.

Miss Heather

Back At It On Box Street

I have spent the afternoon thus far prepping for my big day with Mike. I have an appointment to get my hair done. Even a Dog Shit Queen takes the time to mind appearances. Personal vanity aside, I thought it would be fun to do a little homework on Greenpoint’s far north side. Guess what? The workers constructing the box at 48 Box Street are quite busy. Again.

The fence was open.

The fence looked like shit. Is this up to code? Perhaps someone from the Department of Buildings will tell me tomorrow?

The construction permit is expired and yet the bricklayers are busy laying bricks.

Or at least they were at 2:30 p.m. today.

Oh, did I mention there is a Stop Work Order in this property?

There is. Click on the above image and learn why! Curiously enough, I found no such notice on the fence. They probably ripped it off and went back to work. That seems to be the general practice around here nowadays. Thankfully, I can go to the Department of Building’s web site and find out if they’re breaking the law! Well, unless it involves illegal after hours construction anyway.

Miss Heather

A Greenpointer Comes Out of The Closet

No, this Greenpointer was not “coming out” to use contemporary parlance for openly admitting one’s homosexuality. This chap was extracted from a closet. Literally, and interestingly enough, unwillingly. In keeping with the particularly strange mojo my neighborhood has been giving off lately I present to you a very special coming out story from the April 24, 1949 edition of the New York Times.

Mrs. Makushak was a woman ahead of her time: that closet probably commands $600 a month now. Plus utilities and first and last month’s rent, of course.

Miss Heather