The Latest (g)Rumblings at 110 Green Street

Last night as I was sipping my margarita at Casa Mon Amour a woman I know from 106-108 Green Street happened to walk by. The first word out of her mouth was not “Hello”. “How are you doing?” or “What’s up?” were not to be heard either. Rather,

So how do you like the noise?

was how she initiated our conversation. Yes, she was referring to 110 Green Street.

“Lovely as always.” I said. Some days it is impossible to differentiate the noise coming from 110 Green from that being made by the contractors working on the G train transformer upgrade at the other end of the block. They often join forces to make one oppressive wall of noise. Labor Day was an exception: only Magic’s crew were working that day.

This woman has the pleasure of living on the other side of the wall from the rather large red gizmo in the below photo.

Or should I say displeasure? You see, she is awakened by this device tearing up cement every morning. “Usually at 7:15” she said. She wasn’t very happy when I told her they were perfectly within the letter of the law as long as they started after 7:00 a.m.— but I digress. What I find more interesting is why they are tearing up cement: apparently it was not done correctly the first time. They need more piles. Whoops. No worries, they are busy driving them into the ground as I write this post.

She went on to tell me about her numerous calls to 311 complaining about the noise. One time she heard them knocking around at 11:00 p.m. Yikes.

When I searched the Department of Buildings’s Building Information System nary a complaint was to be found dating after July 17. This is the last (and only) active complaint (of 31 total to date) for this site:

WOOD AND METAL BARRELS IN THE STREET AND SIDEWALK CAUSING AN OBSTRUCTION

I find this sort of interesting given that my husband and I were grousing as we walked through this refuse-ridden gauntlet yesterday evening in order to reach margaritaville.

Ready? Set? GO!!!

Don’t step on the crack or you might break your mother’s back!

How about some mud? A ten foot stretch of it to be exact.

This was once a chair. Now it is garbage. This has been left to disintegrate here for months.

Come to think of it, the more husky among you may wish to use the sidewalk on the other side of the street. The berth of passage gets pretty narrow. Even for me.

Miss Heather

UPDATE, 2:20 p.m.: Now we have a cement mixer AND a pile driver! weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

If you lived here, you’d be drinking by now. I am.

Greenpoint Style. F*ck Tim’s Rules

Sometimes I just know when a particular subway poster is going to get jacked-up. Call it my Greenpoint sixth sense, if you will. Well it took awhile, but it finally happened. Twice.

This is from the Greenpoint Avenue Station.

Its companion (above) can be found at the Metropolitan Avenue stop of the Smith – 9th bound G train. It would appear that someone likes him some shemales. The fried chicken is a nice touch.

Miss Heather

The Man, The Legend, “The McGuinness”

I have spent the last week looking for an image of Greenpoint’s very own Pete McGuinness. My reasons for doing so cannot be disclosed at this time; let’s just say it is for an art project. Though not usable for my purpose, I did find a picture of him in the New York Times online archives. He was rather substantially-built dude.

Many of you will recognize the man in the center of this photo: it is Fiorello LaGuardia. He and “The Fighting Alderman of Greenpoint” were buddies. This is certainly clear in the story this image accompanies from the July 13, 1934 edition of the New York Times. It is also very evident that Pete couldn’t pitch a baseball for shit. Enjoy!

Poor Pete didn’t even win the Fat Man’s Race. Then again, carrying what appears to be a flask in one’s right pocket (or is he just happy to see me?*) can be an impediment.

Miss Heather

*On a related note, I discovered a most amazing novelty item at Babeland yesterday. I can put to such a tool to good use. After packing that seven inches of heat (anything less would be a waste of my time) into a pair of stretch pants I will endeavor to ride the subway. I’ll be sure to spread my legs as wide as possible so as to air out my newly-acquired manhood alongside all the other He-Men.

The elderly, pregnant and infirm be damned! If they want a seat they should buy their own nut sack. I may not have been born into a life of masculine privilege, but that’s okay. At $22.00 (plus shipping and handling) it’s pretty affordable nowadays. To bastardize Barbizon Modeling School’s slogan:

Be an asshole… or just look like one!

Maybe I’ll even whip it out and take a whiz by the Park Slope Barnes & Noble like this guy.

A Lesson in Wish Fulfillment…

and why you should never take a box springs from the street!

Last night my husband and I opted for a late dinner with red wine at the Greenpoint Coffee House. Since it was really nice out, we sat outside. As usual, I positioned myself so I could see the intersection of Green and Franklin Street. I do this so I can “see all the good stuff”. And good stuff I saw.

This box springs was sitting at the corner of Franklin and Green Street. I pointed it out to my husband.

Where is it?

he asked. “It’s pretty damned hard to miss.” I said “It’s in the middle of the sidewalk.” After finding it he said:

I wonder why it is there?

“I dunno.” I replied. Does one really need a reason to leave a box springs in the middle of the sidewalk? I think not. “Today is, after all, the first of the month.” I mused to myself.

Earlier I had seen a number of people moving in and out of the neighborhood. On Manhattan Avenue I saw a trust fund chick moving in. Or should I say her parents were unloading her furniture from their SUV as she was yammering away on her cell phone. Conversely, the sheer quantity of painting, objets d’arte and art supplies I found on the sidewalks this morning bore witness that a number of artists had moved out.

This is a when a woman walking a rather large mutt came into view on Franklin. As she was approaching the mattress I said:

I hope that dog pisses on that box springs.

And he did.

The End.

Miss Heather

Business as Usual at 154 West Street

As promised in this post, I decided to swing by 154 West Street this morning and see what’s shaking. True to form, they were busy working*.

They were even so kind as to obstruct the sidewalk while they were at it.

While I was taking the above photographs a young yuppie father approached with his daughter. She was learning to ride a bike. He was not very happy when he had to advise her to go on the street because the sidewalk was cluttered with the instruments of this contractor’s trade.

I do not think this gent’s anger was the least bit unmerited. It is not unreasonable to expect that the sidewalks be clear for passage. Especially on a weekend. A HOLIDAY WEEKEND, no less. Rather, I find it very unreasonable to obstruct a sidewalk with a miter and table saw while doing weekend construction without a variance.

These are the permits posted at this site. Two are for construction, the third (at the bottom) is for electrical work. Nary a permit allowing off-hours work was to be found.

This is easily one of the most in your face examples of the total disregard many contractors (and in all likelihood, the people who hire them) have for the law. Then again, can you honestly blame them? It’s not like the rules established by the Department of Buildings are enforced in any consistent and effective fashion anyway.

And when the cat’s away, the mice will play!

Miss Heather

*At 10:15 a.m.

The Tree Pits of 100 Freeman Street

Earlier this week I found the above citation taped to the front door of 100 Freeman Street. As you can clearly read, a “large accumulation” of garbage was found by the Environmental Control Board and the owner of said property (presumably the American Package Company) was fined accordingly. Or were they?

Since our duly diligent public servants did not specify which tree pit was surrounded by refuse I took pictures of all seven of them. Here they are.

Tree Pit #1

Tree Pit #2

Tree Pit #3

Um, here are a few bicycles.

Tree Pit #4

Anyone out there finding any bottle(s), cigarette pack, newspaper(s), etc? If so, you’re probably eagle-eyed enough to work for the E.C.B. All I have seen thus far is a bunch of overgrown weeds and some bikes.

Tree Pit #5

Still no refuse.

Tree Pit #6

A couple more bikes.

Tree Pit #7

While I personally find chaining a bike to a tree like this to be obnoxious, let’s stick to the topic at hand: I am still not finding any of the “various debris” cited in the above ticket. In fact, this is probably the cleanest I have ever seen this stretch of sidewalk. It is usually slathered in dog shit.

This of course begs the question as to what the E.C.B. is doing. Or not doing. I think I speak for a number of the people in the Garden Spot when I say a crackdown on illegal and/or after-hours construction would be greatly appreciated. Magic Johnson’s crew over at 110 Green Street were jack-hammering away well past 6:30 p.m. last Tuesday. The noise was quite annoying. Much more so than a few bottle(s), cigarette pack, newspaper(s) and other assorted refuse scattered on a sidewalk.

Priorities, anyone?

Miss Heather