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.