Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Williamspoint Photos Du Jour: Eat Me On Bedford Avenue
Java Street
Manhattan Avenue
Bedford Avenue
Miss Heather
Let’s Talk About Beer
From the December 6, 1886 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle*:
Ninety three million gallons of beer? That is impressive— but hardly surprising. Brooklyn once sported a large number of breweries. Many of them were located in our own proverbial backyard. Which brings me to the photograph gracing the beginning of this post. This building is located at the intersection of Belvidere and Beaver Streets. If you look very carefully behind the fire escape you’ll find this.
This building, now simply known as 75 Belvidere Street, was once a brewery. Curious to learn a little more about Vigelius & Ulmer’s lager works I did a little poking around the Brooklyn Daily Eagle archives. It took a few searches but the following item, which dates seven years after Mr. Vigelius and Ulmer opened shop was totally worth the extra effort.
Yes sir, things were hopping (horrible pun completely intended) in Bushwick during the 1870’s. Then again, this is hardly surprising given our fair city’s love of suds: 1,500,000,000 glasses per annum is a lot of beer. Given the previous statistic it goes without saying that (lawsuits notwithstanding) Vigelius and Ulmer became very rich men! As this obituary for the former attests.
Luckily enough for beer lovers— and us— Mr. Vigelius’s partner persevered. And we are left with this lovely building, Ulmer’s office, on Belvidere Street.
What’s more Mr. Ulmer was a bit litigious in his own right— especially when one miscreant tried to weasel his way to get out of paying for his product. From the December 4, 1900 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
In closing if any of you, dear readers, happen to be in the area do check out the Vigelius and Ulmer brewery. It’s really neat! And oh yeah: if you happen to order large quantities of beer today— or any other day, for that matter— be damned prepared to pay for it!
Nobody likes a welcher.
Miss Heather
*You can this article in its entirety by clicking here.
Greenpoint Gentrification Watch: McCarren Park
This item (which hails from Lorimer Street and Driggs Avenue) goes off the fucking charts. I honestly don’t where to start. Is it
- the professional quality of this flier?
- the kid’s name?
- the fact someone elected to use his (or her) son’s scooter to advertise their political beliefs?
Now that I have given the matter some thought methinks it is probably the latter most. I don’t think little Devlin lost this scooter. He probably had it taken from him after a thorough pommeling from the angry son (or daughter) of this person.
Miss Heather
P.S.: I for one who’d like to see a flier for a stolen red scooter with a John McCain sticker on it. Or perhaps a green scooter with a Ralph Nader sticker? I do not know which one would be funnier.
New York Shitty Day Ender: Some More People From My Neighborhood
Java Street
Greenpoint Avenue
Nassau Avenue
McCarren Park
Bedford Avenue
Jackson Street
Metropolitan Avenue
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photo Du Jour: Curbed
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
From McGuinness Boulevard.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Video Du Jour: When Gentrification Collides With Reality
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Newly empowered with some semblance of Internet access I finally started going through my email in earnest. What’s more, I have actually started replying to some of them! John Doe wrote:
…Of course there’s been wealth and poverty living side-by-side in this town forever, and in the best-case scenario a little general impoverishment might make us all more sensitive to each other’s condition. That won’t happen too soon, I fear. We’ve been living off Wall Street money too long. If things go on as they are, people are going to get really testy.
Here’s my reply:
This is already happening up here, kiddo. What we’re seeing/going to see is the result of what happens when a society becomes too reliant on “easy” money. And a government who holds anyone who(se parents) cannot afford the down payment on a $600,000+ condo in contempt. There are a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them. As they are learning.
But lest this lesson, that being what happens when people are disenfranchised, pissed off and poor— and forced to live elbow to elbow with the affluent has not been learned— or at least acknowledged— by the powers that be, I’d like to offer the following for their edification.
It hails from Greenpoint and involves a 24 hour grocery store, a hipster chick, a couple of drunks, a bartender and me. What lead up to the melee you see above were the two couple of drunk dudes. One had stolen a couple of beers previously and was asked to leave. He didn’t. The hipster chick trying to buy cigarettes at the counter told him to chill. When he didn’t respond she asked him to remove his earbuds. He removed them— but did not “chill” in the least. He got belligerent, they called the police and she got the hell out of Dodge.
For the record I want to make it known this man was not beaten. This dude was totally batshit. It took several men yelling, screaming, waving a baseball bat in one case— a one by two in another— to chase him out of the store. He bolted and as he left a couple came in. One was a bartender for the Mark Bar. Apparently she had dealt with this gent before.
He’s big trouble.
She said.
Call the police.
She said.
Which they already had done. And the police eventually did show up.
Too late.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Starter: The Sleep Of Reason Creates Monsters*
From North 7th Street.
Miss Heather
*This comes from Francisco de Goya’s “Los Caprichos” and is the only explanation I can muster as to why someone who so vehemently defends the life of the unborn—in the name of god— would elect take to take the life of another, albeit already born. In a church, no less. Disgusting.
LAST GASP: Better Late Than Never
When I saw this item via orangegenius I simply had to pass it along here on New York Shitty. This has nothing to do with me me being a romantic at heart; I’m not. I’m about as romantic as a turd in a swimming pool. But if anyone would ever bother to ask the turd in the swimming pool— not all the troublesome fellow bathers— if he (or she) was happy I’d wager he or she would enthusiastically answer:
Yes!
It is in the interest of some faceless, nameless person’s happiness (or at least a first date/one night stand) that I have elected to post the above missive. It hails from the Manhattan entrance of the pedestrian walkway of the 59th Street Bridge and reads as follows:
Dog Walker
Please come visit sometimes. I dream about you. I have a letter for you
-the Russian Girl.
P.S. I love you but I am very shy
Sadly this was written over a month ago (April 28)— but I say better late than never. Let’s make this love connection happen, people! Dog walkers need love too!!!
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
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