Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
671: The Reveal
I ended yesterday’s offerings on New York Shitty with a brain teaser. I wrote:
Today a young woman with a most curious tattoo came to the junk shop. As you can see it is the borough of Brooklyn, rendered in argyle, and includes a number. Anyone care to guess what it means? She told me and I will give the reveal tomorrow at noon. It’s really neat!
Well, it’s noon and here’s the reveal.
This very nice young lady (who is employed at Papasitos) came into the junk shop with her mother— who was a lovely lady in her own right. She was fabulous.
As they were exiting I got a passing glance of the above tattoo. I locked onto the visage of Greenpoint like the Garden Spot geek that I am. I can pick out the silhouette of our fair burgh a mile away. Probably because it bears a disquieting resemblance that fucked-up blob thing from the Gigglesnort Hotel I saw— repeatedly and much to my disturbance— as a little kid.
(To get a true grasp of how truly weird this show— and 1970’s childrens’ television in general— were click on the above image and watch the video. CAVEAT: Do not watch this under the influence of any mind-altering substances.)
I looked again at her tattoo. This time to the south. I recognized Coney Island. My eyes were not deceiving me: this was county of Kings rendered in Argyle. With a number: 671. So I asked her about it.
She said she grew up at 671 Argyle Road, Brooklyn, 11230. And she piquantly added:
I thought I grew up in the suburbs— until I actually saw what suburbs were.
Her mother laughed.
So there’s the reveal. A tattoo— which in hindsight— is not so cryptic. And pretty damned cool!
Hey, if her mother (who has since left Victorian Flatbush) likes it, who am I to judge? What’s more, I think it is neat!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Restaurant Watch: What’s Up At 159 Greenpoint Avenue
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
The Internet Garage has long since left us, but there is plenty of activity at its old space nowadays. Curious to see what’s up I knocked around the Department of Buildings web site. Here’s what I found.
Yes, it would appear that we are getting another restaurant. In addition they applied for a liquor license last month. I have little doubt this will make for interesting bedfellows given that one of our ‘nabe’s more rowdy establishments, Club Exit, is located only steps away. But I digress.
What I want to know is what kind of foodstuffs this establishment will be serving. This remains unclear— but what I dug up here is both encouraging and discouraging.
I understand there are a great many cuisines which employ rice. But if this establishment proves to be another sushi joint, Thai restaurant, Chinese restaurant (unless it is Szechuan and very, VERY good) or (god forbid) a “pan-Asian” place my head (or more accurately: my stomach) is going to explode. And not in a good way.
Google search for “Asian food 11222”:
Google search for “Japanese food 11222”:
Google search for “Chinese food 11222”:
Google search for “Thai food 11222”:
Lest all the previous (gleaned from Google) has not already made it clear: this neighborhood has too much Asian fare. And gastronomically speaking most of it is downright awful. I suppose 159 Greenpoint Avenue might become an Indian restaurant— which would at least lend some diverse (and vegetarian friendly) fare to the slim pickings hereabouts.
But I’m not holding my breath.
Miss Heather
From The Brooklyn Daily Eagle Archives: OH!
Ever had one of those moments when you see something you have walked by many times in a totally new light? This week I just such an experience. And it all started at 10 Bushwick Place.
By north Brooklyn standards this building is not terribly remarkable. In fact they’re a dime a dozen. Until you take a closer look; that’s when it starts to get intriguing.
This facility was once the bottling plant for the Hittleman Brewery. While this is interesting in and of itself, the juicy stuff lies just around the corner on Meserole Street.
One bigass brewery. I have walked down Meserole Street. I have walked down Bushwick Place. Numerous times. But until last weekend I had never walked down Bushwick Place and this stretch of Meserole Street in a single clip. Which leads me to my discovery.
No, it wasn’t this ice plant (as nifty as it is).
This.
Or even this. Romanesque architecture was all the rage in the late 19th century. While the typography is enjoyable, it was not what piqued my interest.
Rather, it was what I found next door that motivated me to get my cybersleuth on.
“OH”.
Not much to go on, you say? Actually it was terrifyingly easy to learn what (or in this case, who) these letters refer to. All I had to do is Google “Hittleman Brewery”. Per NY Food Museum:
A German immigrant, Otto Huber, Sr., who had worked for other breweries in Brooklyn, established his own plant in the late 1860s. He purchased the Hoerger Brewery in 1866 and built the new plant, which became one of the largest and most productive breweries in Brooklyn. After his death in 1889*, his sons, Otto, Jr., Joseph, Charles, and Max, managed the company and it remained a family enterprise until the 1920s when it was sold to Edward Hittleman, who renamed the brewery after himself. Hittleman produced near beer until repeal of Prohibition, and in 1934 he changed the name of the company to Hittleman-Goldenrod Brewery. Goldenrod was a traditional brand name dating to the Huber brewery. After being renamed Edelbrau after a popular beer, it was finally changed to Edelbrew in 1946. Not long after Hittleman’s death in 1951 at age sixty-eight, the brewery closed.
“O” + “H” = Otto Huber. And, as I learned from this article dating from the December 20, 1896 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, “O.H.” means oh so much more:
You can read this article in its entirety by clicking here. Be advised it is a rather lengthy read (~1,200 words give or take), but well worth the extra time. (The man made a lot of beer. Seriously.) In closing, here are a few more things I learned during my research.
1. The business office for Otto Huber’s brewery was located at 1 Bushwick Place.
2. A saloon was on the premises. Judging from what is extant today I would hazard to guess this (which is conveniently located across the street from 1 Bushwick Place) was it.
3. The more eagle-eyed among you might have noticed what is inscribed on the chimney in the background.
I have. Especially since there is something a mere stone’s throw away that bears a similar inscription.
But that is the stuff of another post (which I have already started researching, lest you are wondering). When you (and you know who you are) kick back and enjoy a tall frosty one this balmy weekend why not give a toast to Otto Huber? The man who gave us “OH”!
Miss Heather
*This is a factual error: Otto Huber died in 1890. Here’s his funeral announcement from the March 23, 1890 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle.
New York Shitty Day Starter: A Sign Of Trustifarian Life In Williamsburg?
Filed under: Williamsburg
Tania (who forwarded the following photograph) writes:
First off again, love your blogggg! So I thought this was pretty cool, as I have never seen this before. I went to the Bedford Ave ATM between Nth 5th and 6th the other day and found this receipt left at the machine, usually I am just pissed off for someone leaving their garbage there for me to take and I crumple it up right away to toss, but while I was waiting for my funds to disburse I decided to look at it for some reason. I noticed the balance on this receipt was a bit odd…
Suffice to say maybe the trustfundians are still alive and well in Williamsburg! Is this what a trust fund looks like? haha
ha…ha…
(Am I the only person who finds this totally and utterly depressing?)
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: 671
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Today a young woman with a most curious tattoo came to the junk shop.
As you can see it is the borough of Brooklyn*, rendered in argyle, and includes a number. Anyone care to guess what it means? She told me and I will give the reveal tomorrow at noon. It’s really neat!
Miss Heather
*I really like how they placed Bushwick Inlet where she has a mole. Very clever!
Greenpoint Photo Du Jour: Big Trouble In Little Poland!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
From Franklin Street.
Miss Heather
P.S.: While I am on the subject of Greenpoint Nazis, it would appear I have found a new piece of that so-called runic graffiti that caused such media frenzy a few months ago.
People In Our Neighborhood: 128 Beadel Street Speaks!
On July 8, 2009 a missive entitled “128 Beadel Street” from a gentleman named Waldemar found its way to my inbox. He wrote:
Hey it’s Waldemar @ 128. Pass by and check out my Weeping Wall both day and nite and feel free to snap a few shots. For nite shots it’s best after 8PM.
Well, I have yet to make it over to see the Weeping Wall after dark— but I did swing one afternoon earlier this week. What’s more, I met the man behind the Weeping Wall himself: Waldemar!
Not only was he gracious to talk to me for the better part of an hour, but he took me on a guided tour of his home! He is easily as fascinating — if not more so— than the fabulous oasis he has created. Follow are some highlights from our meeting.
HOW HE CAME TO ACQUIRE 128 BEADEL STREET
Using Chinese Astrology (and zero credit) Waldemar landed this house in 1991 (year of the sheep). Twelve years later (2003, once again year of the sheep) he acquired the property next door: 130 Beadel Street (which he has since turned around and sold—but not before giving the front door his personal touch).
Waldemar explained to me that the year of the sheep is a particularly auspicious year to purchase property. He is also resolute in his belief that this is how he avoided the sub-prime mortgage crisis. Who am I to argue? Whatever system he has created appears to be working!
He went on to explain he did not want this house to be acquired by people who reside at 132 Beadel, whom he referred to as his “enemies”. He did not go into any details as to why there is acrimony between him and these folks and I did not ask. Although I suspect his aesthetic sense probably has something to do with it.
For example, he told me that a number of his neighbors took issue with the dragons gracing his front door. They felt these bad boys— not Beadel Street’s remote location, being positioned on top of the infamous “oil spill” or possibly being located atop the Meeker Avenue plume— were discouraging prospective buyers from purchasing a house on this block. Then he continued his discourse on Chinese Astrology:
Mike Bloomberg is a horse. Horses like to take things away from one person and give them to another. They think this makes them look generous. While the city suffers he is getting richer and richer.
I can’t honestly argue with that. Then I made the mistake of telling Waldemar my Chinese zodiac sign: year of the dog.
Dogs and Horses are friends.*
He said. To wit I replied:
Michael Bloomberg is not my friend. What’s more, I do not think anyone earning under $200,000 a year is his friend.
A LITTLE MORE ABOUT WALDEMAR
- He is fifty years old and retired.
- He is single.
- He is very food-conscious. Not only is he a vegan, but he refrains from eating tomatoes or citrus (which he believes to be poisonous). He will only eat his own home-cooking.
- He makes his own lychee-infused vodka, which he assures me is quite delicious.
- He is an animal lover.
It all started with a litter mate of this lovely lass:
Her brother was diagnosed with leukemia so Waldemar took him in. He has since passed but Waldemar now counts a parakeet (he rescued from horrific conditions) and a thirty pound cat named “Vandervoort” as roommates. On top of that he has made a number of other feline friends.
Like this feral fella who likes to lounge on his stoop.
And this urban tigress who belongs to his next door neighbor (who is not his enemy). He has made special beds for his kitty callers and sometimes places them out for them to enjoy.
INSIDE CASA DE WALDEMAR
It is a living extension its owner: filled with fascinating objects from a life lived to the fullest. Take these cylindrical “core sample” looking thingamajigs. He explained to me that when he worked at World Trade Center and they needed to install telephone lines they had to bore a hole through the floor to run the cables through. These are the byproducts of this practice. He likes to use them as paperweights. He sent the one in the middle to his mother in Puerto Rico. She didn’t much fancy it so she sent it back. It just goes to show beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
And on that note I will close with a slide show showcasing the numerous items of interest I saw at Waldemar’s chateau. A domicile— I will add— that is actually two apartments which he alone inhabits.
If I don’t need tenants, I don’t want ’em.
Who can argue with that?
Enjoy!
As we parted ways Waldemar confided in me that he rarely goes out anymore.
Maybe once or twice a week…
he said and then he pointed back at his front door
…I have a whole world in there.
Not only is this true, I can personally attest it is a very wonderful one at that!
Miss Heather
*Clarification per Waldemar:
…regarding my statement about the do and horse being friends, it only means that for example the year of the Horse is good for you and what people born under that sign do, benefits you by bringing the best out of you. So in your case, the worst Mayor Bloomberg does the more material that will come your way. (Man is he ever right there— Ed. Note) By the way 2010 the year of the tiger is your other good year, And I predict much success for you and your site.
Video Credit: Waldemar
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Townies Versus Newbies
An off-again, on again problem yours truly experiences is insomnia. Last night was no exception: I could not for the life of me fall asleep. Finally I gave up, grabbed a glass of milk and quietly shuffled to the computer. When I checked my email something very special awaiting me. It didn’t help me sleep at all (quite to the contrary— that’s impossible to do after laughing one’s ass off) but it is certainly worth passing along nonetheless. J writes:
I was witness to a really hilarious stoopid event last night.
I was on Bedford and N9 waiting for the B61 around 11pm, being joined by a rather large young local construction (and slightly inebriated) worker guy. He sat on the stoop by the bus stop. Above us, four hipster idiots drunk and or drugged were on the roof snickering and cackling to their own amusement/irony. One of the idiots started flicking crap off the roof at the big Polish guy. He started cursing and finally yelled at them. After a few more times, and a lit cigarette bouncing off his back, he shouted:
Motherfuck!! Fuck you asshole!
to which the girlie on the roof replied:
Fuck you you fucking Polack!
This threw the guy into a rage,
You motherfuck, I show you!
and he proceeds to start kicking the door at the top of the stoop. I went into “keep an eye on things but out of direct contact” mode I learned in BedStuy in the 80’s. He finally kicked the door in, cursing and shouting. He returns with a bicycle from inside the house and curses at the idiots on the roof:
You motherfucks I show you now I have your bike you motherfuck!
and proceeds to ride the bike down Bedford. The problem is – he kicked in the door and stole the bicycle FROM THE WRONG HOUSE. Naturally, the people of the house whose door he kicked in were pretty upset and a minute or so later half dozen of New York’s Finest showed up. The idiots on the roof of the house next door quickly disappeared. Since someone decided to rat me out as an eye witness, I gave them a basic description of the transactions between the idiots and of the guy, and let the folks in the house of the broken door know who should get talked to. Then the 61 finally showed up and I split.
This is turning out to be an interesting summer.
Indeed.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Starter: Family
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
From The Manhattan 3 Decker Diner.
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
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