Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Congrats to Casa Mon Amour!
Filed under: Area 51
From today’s edition of the New York Post:
For those of you who are not in the know, Casa Mon Amour was the location of last month’s blogger meet-up here in Greenpoint. Had it not been for Beatrice’s hard work, gracious manners— and let us not forget— excellent cooking, it would not have been the smashing success it was.
Way to go Beatrice!
Miss Heather
P.S.: It is also nice to see that Vox Pop, the location of June’s blogger meet-up in Flatbush (which was organized by the incomparable Xris of Flatbush Gardener) got recognition. On top of being a nifty little bookstore, they have some kind of bio-dynamic and/or organic Syrah there that is among the tastiest I have ever had. If you’re in the area, give it a whirl!
A Couple of Activities for Art Lovers
Filed under: Area 51
Next month Greenpoint’s very own Cafe Grumpy will be hosting “The Hearts and Crafts Affair”. Those of you who are interested in participating can get more information by sending an email to:
theheartsandcraftsaffair (at) hotmail (dot) com
Cafe Grumpy
193 Meserole Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11222
www.cafegrumpy.com
Over in Long Island City I happened upon a devilishly hilarious show at Art-O-Mat L.I.C. Per the announcement on their web site:
Art-O-Mat is pleased to introduce cartoon artist Johnny Coughlan and present THE WORLD ACCORDING TO JOHNNY COUGHLAN. Reminiscent of the underground cartoon era, his world of unique characters and perspectives is filled with humor and truth. The work reveals an artist who is continually in search of self while at the same time confident in his world view. His ability to capture the contemplative mind is thoughtful and immediate. His skill at pinpointing the essence of self, the world around us, and our basic daily experience is complemented by his skillful graphic stylings
There is a simplicity that challenges the viewer to dig deeper into the human condition. At the same time Johnny Coughlan’s work sizzles and pops off the page. Johnny has an eye for the frail edges of our world and can push the absurdities into the forefront. At times he is talking to us through the use of signs that are his personally scribed Public Service Announcements. In some instances the signs are simple affirmations that reveal Coughlan’s inner struggle to move forward in life.
In the “Staffino†we snicker at the cynicism that rules the work place but the humor allows us to momentarily suspend resentment. The work depicts the basic nature of things as they are but leaves open the question of where we go from there. “Television†extolls the virtue of doing something that merits fame rather than being enamored with fame. It grabs at our ego long enough to suggest that fame might be best deserved by developing oneself from the inside out. There is a parable-like quality to many works. – in particular those that are virtual advertisements such as one that proclaims “Life – You figure it out.” His invented characters such as “Mouse Rabbit†deliver Zen messages. They promote healthy self development.
All the previous wordage may very well be true, but let’s face facts: this is just plain hilarious! Gallery hours are Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays from 12:00 – 7:00 p.m. or by appointment. For more details click on the above image (and you will directed to their website) or shoot them an email at:
artomat (at) licweb (dot) com
I cannot understate how great this show is. Do make it a point to check it out. It closes September 2nd.
Art-O-Mat L.I.C.
46-46 Vernon Avenue
Long Island City, New York 11101
Miss Heather
P.S.: Oh yeah, while you’re over in Long Island City check out the Borden Avenue Bridge. I did so for the first time recently. It’s really neat and an excellent place to take photographs!
A few thoughts about blogging
As I indicated in the previous post, I called into the Brian Lehrer Show this morning. Since I was not allowed to complete my thoughts about blogging (which extend far beyond gazing upon Brooklyn’s fuzzy gentrifying navel) I am going to post them here.
1. I believe blogs are assuming the role that was once assumed by local (INDEPENDENT) newspapers.
2. If I had to liken the proliferation of blogs (be they neighborhood-based or otherwise) to anything it would be the invention of the printing press. Prior to its invention the Roman Catholic Church was (more or less) the sole distributor/gate keeper of knowledge. With the ability to control what people read (or more importantly what people DON’T read) comes a lot of power. And we all know what absolute power does: it corrupts absolutely.
Shortly after the printing press came into being, Martin Luther quickly saw its potential and exploited it. The end result was a little thing called the Reformation. The ability to disseminate and share information is a very powerful tool; the mainstream media (as “gate keepers”) has begun to realize this and they starting to pay attention to the “blogosphere”. Albeit very, very selectively— which of course, is what happened today*.
I suppose I should be content with getting any air time at all and giving a shout-out to The Gowanus Lounge (which was curiously absent from this forum). But I’m not. Here is a list of blogs I wanted to mention on the air today.
Queens Crap: Sure, this is not a Brooklyn blog, but— and this is a big BUT— it deserves attention. Perhaps it may seem paradoxical to some of you, but I do not envision blogging purely as a Brooklyn endeavor. I suppose being located about 15 minutes from this borough gives me a much broader view of things. My neighborhood (and its “growing pains”) have much more in common with Long Island City or Sunnyside than Park Slope or Brooklyn Heights.
To purely focus on Brooklyn is not only an insult to the hard-working and very dedicated bloggers in the other four boroughs, but it also fosters a (somewhat) false notion that Brooklyn bloggers are a smug, clannish and contented lot of well-to-do “white people”. Once again, race was drug across the floor like a red herring and once again it worked.
Confusing race with “class” is astonishingly myopic and naive. One need not be a minority to be poor— but it helps. Contrary to popular belief, poverty is not an indicator of lack of discipline or personal worth. I speak from experience. Even though I was provided a very comfortable upbringing and excellent education, when I started working my lifestyle radically shifted. Downward.
As the incomparable Dorothy Parker once said:
If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.
Some call me a “gentrifier”. I probably am. But as a person who lives in a rent-stabilized apartment (and does not have the luxury of or ability to buy a condo) in a “hot” neighborhood, I have the presence of mind to know I am in danger of being displaced. Just like my less-affluent (and largely Hispanic) neighbors. Their concerns and mine are one and the same.
Atlantic Yards Report: Norman Oder’s dedication and hard work should not be ignored. While we may not agree on some things, I cannot over-emphasize how important his work is. He deserves to be heard.
Outside.In: They seem to be paying attention to the recent (and ongoing) proliferation of Greenpoint bloggers.
Dave Kenny and Xris Kreussling, of Dope on the Slope and Flatbush Gardener respectively: It is one thing to bemoan the lack of diversity at the Brooklyn Blogfest, it is another to actually try and do something about it. Both of these gentleman were of vital importance in the creation of monthly blogger meet-ups. I mention this because Louise Crawford of Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn seems to be garnering most of the credit. Not only is this a tremendous disservice to both of the previous gentleman, it is downright false. I could not have organized last month’s meet-up without their help.
On that note, I have to say organizing the Greenpoint meet-up was very challenging. One of the obstacles I faced was the perception that this meet-up would be a repeat of the Brooklyn Blogfest. While I can understand that some might find “Smartmom” to be good reading over that first cup of coffee in the morning, the fact of the matter is many people do not. For this reason I made a concerted effort to contact people directly and to a certain degree it worked— although not in the manner I had expected. It was much better.
Not only did a lot of number of new faces show up, but they were very talented ones at that! Many of the attendees operate food-oriented blogs. To name a few of them:
In closing, I’d like to say that I am very excited about September’s meet-up in Bedford-Stuyvesant. My only fear is that today’s episode of the Brian Lehrer Show might have scared off a number of Brooklyn (or Queens) bloggers who would otherwise have been inclined to attend.
Including myself.
This post was brought to you courtesy of one 24 oz. can of Coors. Now back to our regular programming.
Miss Heather
*This is in no way intended to be critical of BushwickBK or Bed-Stuy Blog.
Cut off by Brian Lehrer!
Filed under: Area 51
As promised, I called in. Instead of allowing me to talk about anything of real substance, they put me on at the end of the show and cut me off. This is hardly surprising. If you want to hear the sugar sweet voice of yours truly say “New York Shitty” on the air go here.
Since I was not permitted to complete my thoughts, I will do so here later. Need to buy beer first.
Stay tuned.
Miss Heather
Belvedere Rising
Filed under: Area 51
I am awake at 7:00 a.m. On a Saturday.
The cats are fighting. Well, at least four of them are. The fifth one is sick.
The husband is milling about. He is already asking me why I am up so early. Soon he will want a cup of coffee. When he gets his cup of joe he will remember that I drank the last of the milk last night. A tantrum will most certainly follow.
I cannot think of a better way to express the Chateau de Ghetto love I am experiencing right now than to share with you a brand-spanking new Belvedere!
Or at least the site where it is going up: 218 Eckford Street.
As you can see, it is located right next door to a fellow Belvedere. I think this one is XII. Even I have trouble telling them apart sometimes. This is because there are (seemingly) a gazillion of them and they all LOOK FUCKING ALIKE! Sort of like Children of the Damned.
Here is a hallmark of what I like to call The Belvedere Style: a double door entrance awaiting a pretentious— yet cheap-looking— lintel bearing some arbitrarily determined set of Roman numerals. I wonder if the this one will be “XXX”? I can only hope so. If it is, I’ll be sure to celebrate by swilling down some delicious Belvedere Vodka.
What will those crazy folks over at Bridge Realty think of next? I for one would like to see Belvedere: The Musical.
Miss Heather
Corn Nuts
Filed under: Area 51
Is this turnout weak or what? I had at least 70 more people at my funeral.
I may be a boozehound, but I am a curiously selective one. In other words, my curiosity does the selecting. Needless to say when I found the following offering last night at Santa Fe restaurant, I had to try it.
I placed my order. The gentleman waiting on us (the owner?) asked “Have you seen the movie Heathers?”
To wit I replied:
Just gimmie the cup, jerk.*
It was quite delicious. Very tart. Maybe this was result of the multi-purpose deodorizing cleaner? In any case, I am alive this morning to tell you about it. Give it a whirl!
Santa Fe
366 Union Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 599-2655
Miss Heather Veronica
*This chap wasn’t a jerk at all. I simply take great delight whipping out my Heather Chandler impersonation when the opportunity affords itself.
To All The Landlords I’ve Loathed Before
Earlier this week I had an encounter with (yet another) aspiring journo visiting my humble ‘burgh seeking to “get the dirt” on the ‘Pernt. I met him in the most unexpected of places: the local Salvation Army.
The “new influx”of “dumbfux” has provided me a new means of acquiring nice duds dirt cheap. My only wish is that their mothers smoked during pregnancy so there would be more offerings in my size. But I digress.
Who knew the Garden Spot was so newsworthy? I certainly didn’t. The (lack of print) press coverage for my blog and those my fellow Greenpointers (wonderful people all) have seen fit erect makes my inner Dog Shit Queen wonder:
Why hast thou forsaken
meUS?
The only answer I have come up with that makes any sense is it’s easier to have young college graduates come up here and observe us like the relics we are: to solicit input from the local yokels would lower their employer’s journalistic standards. We are rent-paying Neanderthals in a Homo Erectile world. As antiquities we might be of journalistic or archaeological interest, but our presence and discontentment is
- incidental
- accidental
- inconvenient
to this neighborhood becoming “hip”.
When I walked into the Salvation Army and saw a clean-cut gent scribbling notes on a notepad while a porcine man pontificated about construction practices, undermining adjacent buildings and legal recourse. I knew I was onto something. I hung around. I eventually struck up a conversation with the scribbler.
He wanted to know about Greenpoint.
I told him I blogged about Greenpoint.
He asked what my blog was.
I told him.
He recognized it.
We talked.
What got me more than anything was his apparent surprise upon learning that I knew “the system”. And by “system” I mean housing law, rent stabilization law, the Department of Buildings, Department of Housing and Community Renewal and Housing Court.
I have been to Housing Court and I won. Twice.
Sure, I’m probably on a blacklist somewhere, but who gives a fuck? I don’t. Making that asshole eat shit for a collapsed ceiling, no electricity for ten days and no hot water was totally worth it. The judge even complimented me on the thoroughness of dossier I had painstakingly compiled for his edification.
When my landlord retaliated (by dragging me into court to set a date for making said “repairs”) my buddy Rachael tagged along and cheered as I ripped his paralegal a new asshole. The court-appointed moderator thought I was attorney “representing the tenant”. I told him:
I am not a fucking attorney, I am the tenant!
Housing Court is a very entertaining place. Those of you who enjoy gallows humor and/or care to know how miserably your condo-disabled brethren live should go. I mention this because (after a lengthy sojourn in Low Cal So-Cal) my buddy Rachael paid me a visit today and gave me a memento from my litigious past.
This is a water fountain in Kings County Housing Court.
This is a duck made out of a Post-It note.
Any questions?
Miss Heather
Catcall Site Du Jour: 240 Richardson Street
Filed under: Area 51
It gives me great pleasure to showcase the first submission to my Catcall project: 240 Richardson Street!
Lisacat writes:
This Scarano POS building is on Richardson St. where Monitor ends (240 Richardson Street — Ed. Note). It’s also kitty-corner to the entrance of St. Cecilia’s Catholic School. When the building was just going up, the workers would leer from the upper floors and make those animal noises at the girls in their uniforms. It was perverse and disgusting. These were not Britney Spears wannabes but K-12 kids trying to get to class or go home. This is also the site where I got some photos of the workers throwing trash with abandon from the windows to the dumpster below…
and where they maintained the sidewalk like this.
I think I’m done for now…
This morning I did a little snooping around the Department of Building’s Building Information System. Needless to say I found it hardly surprising when I found a complaint regarding:
EXCESSIVE OF FLYING DEBRI(S) COVERING HER BACKYARD AND THE WHOLE BLOCK
INCOMING!
Miss Heather
Penile Endowment & Pete’s Candy Store
As I was reading The Gowanus Lounge this morning I found myself taking a psychedelic trip down down the rabbit hole to my days as a single woman about town.
Yes, I am talking about “Missed Connection” post about Pete’s Candy Store. To the best of my knowledge the chap I met there did not have two penises. If he did, both tools were NOT located below the belt, if you know what I mean.
He was special. Very special. And given some of the VERY special peeps I have dated, this is no small accomplishment. To crack the top five in the smash-jaw world of Miss Heather’s all-time favorite male suitors is sort of like being the most retarded kid on the short bus. It is a dubious distinction to be certain, but a distinction it is nonetheless.
In a kingdom of the ‘tards, he who wears the crash helmet with a thick lucite mouth guard is king. This chap was the Hannibal Lechter of my dreams (whose type are only had by my person after eating a lot of spicy food before going to bed).
It was a sultry summer day in 2002…
My big fat dyke best bud Rachael and I were in a particularly rambunctious mood. Our friendship is a never-ending folie à deux sans the body count. Unless of course you include the male ego as an animal of prey: in which case our faces would be found in every god damned post office in this country. Possibly every milk carton too, but I digress…
We had quite a busy evening ahead of us. First a barbecue party in East Williamsburg, then a night of bar crawling. To this end Rachael showed up at my apartment with a diaper bag full of provisions, among the goods contained in this bag were a container of baby wipes (because New York Shitty is a very dirty place) and an electronic bull horn. After futzing around with the latter for fifteen minutes (and playing “The Yellow Rose of Texas” for my neighbors’ edification) we took our show on the road. We walked.
As we strolled down Manhattan Avenue I would turn on the megaphone and announce every stop of the G train replete with “stand clear of the closing doors”. The people at Greenpoint Avenue were confused by this. The folks at Nassau Avenue were amused by this. A woman at Metropolitan Avenue complimented me on my flawless recitation of the transfers available to the Canarsie and 8th Avenue bound L train. I thanked her and told her that I had done much research on the subject.
We arrived at the barbecue and quickly found ourselves getting bored. This is not criticize the hosts, Mark and Heather, they were terrific. Rather, Rachael and I had an itch to scratch and our fine fettle would be wasted at such an informal function. I was rocking a fuzzy pink tube top, furry pink platform shower thongs and rhinestone earrings shaped like dollar signs. I, in the clarity of hindsight, looked ridiculous.
I was Greenpoint Fabulous, albeit bereft of the usual “whale tail” and “camel toe” one sees in the ‘Pernt with disquieting frequency. In my humble opinion the Garden Spot is the Camel Toe Capital of the universe. If you’re into this kind of thing, brave the G train and come here. You’ll feel like a kid in a candy store.
So my buddy Rach and I headed to Williamsburg without delay. After hitting Union Pool (LAME), Sweetwater (and bumping into someone I went to undergrad school with back in Texas), walking by a school and acquiring a child’s desk we headed to Pete’s. We stopped to catch our breath. Carrying a desk, even one clearly designed for a kindergartner, is pretty tiring. We looked up and noticed a buddy of ours waving at us. We went in, desk in hand.
It was our buddy “Hunter”. That’s not his real name— I can’t remember what it is at the moment— but he bears a striking resemblance to Hunter S. Thompson. The moniker works so let’s roll with it, okay? He was seated with a motley crew of dudes we had never met. A chap who called himself “Snowflake” seated himself in our newly-acquired desk. He fit too.
Despite our best efforts Rachael and I kept calling him “Snowball”. I suspect this was probably the result of watching Clerks and reading Animal Farm one too many times. No offense was intended and none seemed to be taken: he invited us to go home with him later. We declined.
Next to me sat a rheumy-eyed dude whose name (also) eludes me. He probably told me what it was but it didn’t register. My intoxication was not to blame either; this dude was one beer and a bong hit shy of becoming Terri Schiavo. Frankly, I was amazed he could even sit up straight. Despite this handicap, he put on his best moves.
TS (looking at my earrings): Ssssssssso, I see it you’re in it for the bennies?
Me: What?
TS: The bennies, the benjamins.
Me: Benjamins?
TS: $100 bills babe, money.
Me: If I was I wouldn’t be so fucking poor, dude.
TS (while pulling out a one-hitter and stuffing it with grass): Really? Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?
Me: He smoked so much grass he couldn’t keep it up.
(He puts his one-hitter away.)
TS: Let me tell you something…
Me: Yes, and that is???
TS: I’ve got the biggesssssssst dick and the mossssssst money of any man in thisssss entire bar.
Me (raising an eyebrow): Really? Now that is interesting. Are you serious?
TS: Yes, I’ve got the biggessssssst dick and the mosssssst money of any dude in thissssss whole barrrrrr.
Me (to Rachael): Hey Rach, could you hand me the bag?
Rachel hands me the bag and I pull out the megaphone. Even though my suitor’s lips whispered “no”, everyone around us said “yes”. So, as Nike suggests, I just did it.
Me: Hey everybody!
(The dull roar of cocktail conversation and flirtation abruptly stops.)
Me: This guy has the biggest dick and the most money of any man in this bar!
After five full seconds of silence, everyone resumed their respective conversations and this chap got the point.
When Rachael and I left two very touchy feely gals were draped on his shoulders. Although I suspect they were more interested in each other than him, my act of mischief probably gave him ample material to submit to Penthouse Forum the next day. Or he awakened to discover that someone stole one of his kidneys. Either way, it’s a happy ending.
Miss Heather
Something to do this Sunday Afternoon
Filed under: Area 51
I recently got an email from one of my readers, Fisher6000, alerting me to an event being held today at Socrates Sculpture Park. She writes:
I wanted to let you know about an opening this Sunday at Socrates. In addition to great art, there will be Cajun food and a band!
Open Space
Opening Sunday, July 29, 2-6pm
Deborah Fisher
New Orleans Elegy, 2006
July 29-October 28, 2007Deborah Fisher’s New Orleans Elegy is a living work of art that will change over time in its appearance and meaning. Fisher is interested in the structures the earth makes: how crystals grow; accreation; and the way rocks organize and build themselves. New Orleans Elegy is a map of New Orleans made of steel wire “streets” and a bronze overlay. Over time, the interaction of the metals will cause the streets to decay from the bronze leaving only a trace of where they once were.
Takashi Horisaki
Social Dress New Orleans–730 Days After, 2007
July 29-October 28, 2007Takashi Horisaki’s Social Dress New Orleans-
730 days after, came from his deep concern for New Orleans after hurricane Katrina. Horisaki spent his first three years in America living in New Orleans, LA, eventually earning a BFA from Loyola University. His visit to New York in June 2006 made him realize how much those of us living outside of the victimized area fail to grasp the reality of the tragedy suffered by New Orleans residents and the glacially slow recovery process. Conversations with his professor in New Orleans inspired this project. “He told me how difficult
it is for him to make his own artwork still, and I wondered if I, a neutral person- not exactly an outsider, but with some perspective on the situation- could express their feelings through my sculpture.”Michael Mercil
Shadows From A Dream Of The 20th Century, 2003-2006
July 29, 2007-April 6, 2008Michael Mercil’s shadows from a dream of the 20th Century, is a set of three carved black stone monoliths. The individual pieces approximate the size of grave markers; stones that mark a beginning of western sculpture. Mercil is not a stone sculptor, but here he uses traditional materials and methods to entertain notions of origin and temporality- of the past, as legacy for the future, and the future already becoming the past. The substance of this work materializes the question: “What is the object of sculpture now?”
Socrates Sculpture Park is on the corner of Broadway and Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City, NY. For more information go to www.socratessculpturepark.org
This sounds like a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon. If I was not attending the Forgotten-NY tour of Little Neck today I would definitely go. Check it out!
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
