Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Urban Fur: The Cats of Quincy Street
Filed under: 11221, Bed-Stuy, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn, Stuff That Makes Miss Heather Happy, Urban Fur
Taken February 27, 2015.
The Word On The Street, Part III: Rebuttal
Filed under: 11221, Bed-Stuy, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn, Dog Shit, Stuff That Makes Miss Heather Happy, The Word On The Street, Urban Artifact
For those of you who are wondering, “IBS” (at least as far as this flier is concerned) stands for “International Beauty Show”, not Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
(Taken February 27, 2015.)
The Word On The Street: Size Doesn’t Matter
Taken March 11, 2014.
The Word On The Street: Walt Whitman Edition*
Filed under: Bed-Stuy, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn, Stuff That Makes Miss Heather Happy, The Word On The Street
Taken March 11, 2014.
*You can read the poem (Oh Captain! My Captain!) from which this passage was gleaned by clicking here.
Name These Kittens: The Bed-Stuy Quartet
Filed under: 11216, 11222, Bed-Stuy, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn, Crazy Cat Lady, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Queens
Yesterday I had the blues so I went for a walk. I’m glad I did. It was on Wythe Avenue in Williamsburg that I learned things could always be worse. For example, I could be this guy— or worse yet, his ex-girlfriend. So it goes. Today I met some little ones who had an even rougher life… and they’re only six weeks old!
When Jay of Dog Habitat told me last weekend that they just got in a litter of kittens rescued from Bed-Stuy naturally I had to make their acquaintance.
Here they are!
These two are definitely the more outgoing of the bunch. The “crouching tiger” is the solitary boy of the litter. I nicknamed him “Biggie Smalls” because he is the biggest of the “smalls”. His more defiant companion (who Jay has nicknamed “Smudgy”) appears to be the leader of this crew, as you will see.
These two are much more shy. Especially the one on the left. The one on the right is the runt of the litter. Given she is little…
VERY LITTLE and hails from Bed-Stuy I nicknamed her L’il Kim. Not that these kittens have names per se: they don’t. But more about that later. Here’s Jay telling us how these Bed-Stuy beauties came to be (albeit temporarily) Greenpointers.
Then Jay left me alone to get acquainted with them. We started with an ice breaker I like to call “watch the hand”.
Then we upgraded to a cat toy.
Then we had a little lunch.
But back to the purpose of this post: these kittens do not have names! For this reason Jay and I decided a contest is in order. Do you have names for this winsome quartet of cuties? If so, please tender them via comments or email at: missheather (at) thatgreenpointblog (dot) com. Otherwise, you can see more pix and videos of these cuties by clicking here.
In closing, here a little something for the dog lovers out there. The above lovely lass, Abby, was recently found wandering around Jackie Robinson Parkway in Queens. Luckily a good Samaritan picked her up. And by the previous I mean lucky for her and us: she’s a sweet gentle thing!
As I have (often) written before: anyone who is interested in providing a loving home to any of these lovely (and loving) furkids should contact Dog Habitat via telephone at (347) 601-8678 or via email at: rescue (at) doghabitat (dot) org. Tell ’em I sent you.
Thanks!
Miss Heather
Great Moments In Abjectecture: Quincy Street
Filed under: 11216, Abjectecture, Articles of Fedderization, Bed-Stuy, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn
Many of you have noticed I have been pounding the pavement in Bed Stuy a lot lately. There are a number of reasons for this. Among them:
- I am trying to assemble a nice selection of photographs for my upcoming show at Creek & Cave.
- I simply like Bed Stuy.
If these is one word I would use to describe the topography of the Stuy it would be this: heterogenous. Nowhere else (in north-ish Brooklyn, anyway) will you see a more diverse selection of architecture. On any given block one will find meticulously restored brownstones, derelict construction sites, foreclosed properties, slick new condos and, of course, Fedders Specials. Which brings me to Quincy Street— and the subject of this post.
To the right we have your standard run-of-the-mill three story rowhouse. These are a dime a dozen. On the left we have a Fedders Special. These too are a dime a dozen. But there is a something more going on here than the usual air conditioning boxes, disproportionate balconies, exposed electrical meters and copious use of cement.
Instead of being embedded in the building proper, the mailboxes have been affixed to the front door. This may seem trivial, but I want you to consider this: what is going to happen if you have someone checking his/her mail and another tenant wants to exit the building? Of course this is not only poor engineering, it is also quite ugly.
Miss Heather
Behold, The Bed-Stuy Beer Bong!
I was originally going to feature this nugget of institutional architectural bliss as this week’s installment of Fedder’s Friday but since it is raining I felt is was better served by being showcased today. Last weekend my husband and I entertained a friend of ours from out of town. Wishing to be good hosts, we wanted to give our guest the quintessential New York Shitty experience. In other words, we took him on a grand tour of the finest Fedders Specials this city has to offer.
It was on Quincy Street that we found this, the benchmark for all things Fedders.
As you can see all the required elements are present:
- Exposed electrical meters
- Nary a lick of greenery to be found
- Burglar bars
- And of course, Fedders boxes
But there is something that makes this property stand head and shoulders above its compatriots. A little “added value” if you will. Can you find it? I’ll give you a hint: look closely at the gutter on the left-hand side of the building.
I know what you’re thinking:
My god, that is one helluva design flaw!
I beg to differ. I am by my very nature an optimistic person. I prefer to see the (shot) glass half full— if for no other reason because that’s when I know it’s time to order another one.
What we have here, dear readers, may very well be the world’s largest beer bong. Belly up to the bar New Yorkers, I bet these folks throw the best damned Fourth of July barbecues in town!
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
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