Greenpoint
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Culture on the Cheap
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Ana Banana
Filed under: 11222, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
A Mr. (or Ms.) Santonas (who forwarded me the above flier) writes:
I am a huge fan of your blog. My friend is heart broken about her missing dog. Can you possibly post this on your blog? Thank you so much!
If anyone reading this has seen Ms. Banana or knows of her whereabouts please call the above-listed telephone number. In closing, yours truly would be very grateful to any and all who can help spread the word about Ana’s disappearance. Anyone familiar with the area where this lass was last seen will undoubtedly agree with me when I write that it is an incredibly unsafe place for a canine cutie to be at large. Thanks!
Miss Heather
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Dead In The Water?
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Newtown Creek
This item comes courtesy of an anonymous tipster:
On Wednesday, March 16, 2011 at 1310 hours in the confines of the 94 pct. Police responded to a male in the water (Newtown Creek) in the rear of 16 Bridgewater Street. Upon arrival officers discovered a M/H-W/30-40 floating in the water unconscious and unresponsive. EMS responded and pronounced the aided DOA. Medical Examiner to determine the cause of death. The investigation is ongoing and the ID of the victim is pending.
First it was a horrific hate crime on the Northside and now this. This is proving not to be a good week in north Brooklyn. It goes without saying I will be asking about this (among other things) at the next 94th Precinct Community Council meeting…
Miss Heather
The Word On The Street: Polish 101
Despite the fact I have lived in Greenpoint for ten years my command of Polish is, how shall we say, lackluster. The only phrase I can say is: Ja nie mówiÄ… polski: “I don’t speak Polish”. This is more the result of necessity than moxie on my part. I am often mistaken for being Polish. Over the years I have learned this simple phrase is very useful for extricating myself from many a social situation (I’d just as well not be involved in).
Most of the time, anyway. A year ago I tried it on an elderly woman on Meserole Avenue. In return I was on the business end of a one minute long diatribe— IN ENGLISH— about how I was actually Polish and merely pretending to be an American. Despite my protestations of having been born in Texas (something of which I am not terribly proud, thus I only bring it up when I’m under extreme duress) she remained unconvinced. She continued screaming at me as I walked away. But I digress.
Today on Bridgewater Street I was reminded of another piece of Polish I have learned during my tenure in Greenpoint.
What does this mean, you ask? Look it up yourself. Ada must be one helluva of a gal.
Miss Heather
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