#5 of the Greenpoint 10 is…

A man who needs little in the way of introduction. Damned near everyone in Greenpoint knows who he is— and besides, no one seems to know his name anyway. He is simply that shirtless guy who lives on Franklin Street —or “Blow Torch Harry” as one New York Shitty commenter likes to call him:

When he lived on Milton he was renovating his bathroom. We could see him from our window. He would be blow torching naked in his apartment. It was classic.

It is my understanding that my buddy over at 11222 is going to give us the 411 on this chap and I do not want to step on her toes. However, I too have a “Blow Torch Harry” story I would like to share. Here it is.

One very brisk February morning I decided to burn a little time before a hair appointment by taking a walk. Curious to see what my favorite Greenpoint celebrity was up to, I swung by Franklin Street to find out. He was busy tending his lot.

Clad only in a pair of tighty whities.

I do not recall what the temperature was that particular day, but it had to have been around freezing. Watching this man conduct his business in his BVDs was painful to watch, and yet too fascinating to avert my gaze away. I was mesmerized and from that moment forward became a “Blow Torch Harry” believer.

You gotta respect a a guy for walking around in sub-freezing weather in his underoos. He looked shrinkage in the eye and didn’t flinch. The fact he also sees fit to weld au naturel on occasion is pure gravy, which brings me to this week’s motivational poster.

The Park Slope Civic Council can distribute free umbrellas (lest the local populace melt with the first trace of autumn rain). We Greenpointers don’t need no stinking umbrellas. Hell, we’ve dispensed with clothing altogether! What’s a little rain water compared to the thrill of going commando with a blow torch?

Wimps.

“Blow Torch Harry”, it is people like you who make Greenpoint, well, Greenpoint. On behalf of all the fellow Greenpointers you have managed to amaze and inspire, I salute you.

I look forward to seeing a lot more of you this upcoming February.

Miss Heather

Public Service Announcement

Whoever stole that kid’s tent on Kent Street between Franklin and Manhattan Avenue last weekend…

the parts and instructions are ready for you to pick up.

Miss Heather

P.S.: Thanks for forwarding this to me Nate!

Franklin is Clinton Country

Yesterday we learned 177 1/2 Norman Avenue is Bush-friendly (and tambourine playing). Democrats, don’t despair! I have since learned that Franklin Street is Clinton country!

Is that a pumpkin stem between his legs or he is just happy to see me? In keeping with most such moments in my life, Bill’s show of affection was a little too little and a little too late. Unlike Ms. Lewinsky, I would have proven to be a very capable power behind the bone.

I know how to use a cigar correctly.

In closing I’d like to give a big New York Shitty shout-out to my buddy across the pond who has seen fit link to my humble post featuring the above depicted gnomes. I suspect he will be blown away by this latest tableau.

In more ways than one.

Miss Heather

1-800-COP-BITE

One thing I have noticed as I parse through newspaper archives is that Greenpointers sure like to bite. As we have learned so far, the discriminating Garden Spotter has taste for landlords and would-be ghosts. Given the previous, I suppose it should hardly be surprising to learn that law enforcement officials also tickle our taste buds. From the December 16, 1895 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle I present to you a tale about good old Greenpoint cop biting.

Perhaps we should do as this subway poster suggests and pluck our teeth for freedom? Mr. Smith’s freedom, that is.

Miss Heather

A Word of Advice To Greenpoint Bike Owners

You might want to watch where you park on Greenpoint Avenue or you might discover that your two wheeler has been converted into a NO wheeler. Missy, a long-time New York Shitty reader and first time tipster writes:

Noticed this endangered bike on Greenpoint in front of The Black Rabbit and thought of your blog… The bike’s gonna get it if we don’t act fast!

While grammatically flawed, the point attempting to be made in the above missive remains pretty clear: remove your bike or it will be removed. Piece by piece. On that note, any bicycle enthusiasts who might be reading this should probably refrain from chaining your bikes to this tree on Calyer Street as well.

Hey, at least they said thank you.

Miss Heather

The Karate Krishna

The following are three phrases I use with unusual frequency in Greenpoint:

1. What the fuck?
2. Oh my.
3. Who the hell did this?

Yesterday I asked myself the above two questions, dear readers. What’s more, they were both answered in the course of a mere thirty minutes. It all started with the following objet de arte on Norman Avenue.

What the fuck?

At 2:30 p.m. I found this tricked-out five wheeler tethered to a steel gate which graces one of Greenpoint’s more interesting edifices: 177 1/2 Norman Avenue.

Oh my.

Obviously the owner of the aforementioned cart (and presumably the decorator of the above window) likes:

1. America
2. George W. Bush
3. Karate
4. Running

Especially America and Karate.

Who the hell did this?

I have asked myself the above question many times as I have gazed upon the this building. And on November 5, 2007 at 3:00 p.m. I finally received an answer.

The kind of guy who totes his painfully adorable children in a customized kiddie coach while beating a star-shaped tambourine at the intersection of Manhattan Avenue and Norman, that’s who.

Oh my.

Miss Heather