We went to our polling place this morning, fearing long lines and difficult-to-grok voting apparatus. But not only were the machines working fine and easy to understand, there was no line. Like, at all.
As you may know, your average polling location is split up into a number of "election districts" which determine how many actual voting booths there are. Your address somehow determines which election district you are in. So we're in front of our booth, with no one else. All around us, every other district had fairly long lines, some prohibitively long. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, we voted and got the hell out of there. But I gotta say, it looked a little weird.
Not to put too fine a point on it, we were pretty much the whitest people in the room. The only other white guy was filling out a provisional ballot ... for our election district. It would not be hard to look at this scene and assume the palefaces had some kind of elevated status (like how first class passengers get to go through airport security faster). In short, on this historic day, we looked like the poster kids for White Privilege.
Now, I know that couldn't really be the case, but try looking up 'election district maps' and see what you find: Dick. What the hell is an election district? Anyway I eventually found them on some of the maps of other districts. Here (with a little inference) you can see that election districts are very small subdistricts, in my case 3 consecutive blocks. But more tellingly, my district is actually part of a larger Assembly district whose borders make me a part of Ocean Hill; we're just over the line by one block. Odd then, that my voting location is squarely in Bushwick, since many other designations include us with other neighborhoods. Who knows, but what it means is me and my 3-block radius vote in our own special bubble. Still, 3 blocks in this neighborhood is still a whole lot of people. (I'm sure they're all planning to vote when they get home from work.)
And it doesn't stop there, take a look at the Congressional District maps as well, it gives gerrymandering a bad name. You'd think that districts would be more or less blob-shaped, a circle or influence, or a square. But no, my district is a weird multi-pronged affair, covering several neighborhoods and spanning ridiculously-varied socioeconomic strata. Seems suspect, in any case. Forgive me if I seem cynical and paranoid, it's just been a long time since I voted and it felt like it mattered.
Bushwick was graced with another walking tour from the good folks at bcue.org, and as usual I nearly missed it. I got all confused about the dates and realized it was happening this past Sunday with some 20 minutes to spare. I made it to the Myrtle-Wyckoff station a little late, but hey, the walking tour is pretty easy to pick out of a crowd.
Apparently this tour was written up in Time Out: New York but I didn't catch the article (did anybody see it?) So besides the usual gaggle of old-timers and locals there were a few tourists. Though who can really tell these days.
This tour focused on Bushwick's most commonly-associated aspects, namely the blackout, the fires, the drugs, the mob influence, the crooked landlords, the specter of gentrification. Yet it was a lovely fall day and tour leader Adam Schwartz is great as an educator and raconteur, so he made sure it wasn't a total bummer. Some highlights included visiting St. Barbara's a Spanish Baroque style Catholic church built in 1909. Regardless your feelings on religion, you gotta admit this is a kick-ass building. You can't believe you're in Bushwick when you're inside it looking up at the insane level of detail on every available surface. Bushwick historian John Dereszewski was on hand and mentioned that he remembers an even stranger sight: St. Barbara's during Bushwick's nadir, pristine while surrounded by rubble and neglect.
We also covered the Hope Gardens housing project, which may bore some, but I find fascinating. It was the last housing project created before Reagan ended the whole 'experiment,' but has proven to be the most successful. Instead of monstrous high-rise buildings, Hope Gardens is mostly 3-story buildings, some set up like apartment complexes and some more like townhouses, complete with garden apartments. You see Hope Gardens in many locations throughout the neighborhood; its sprawling footprint was determined largely by which blocks were most decimated by fire. It's sort of too bad they weren't able to reproduce this model elsewhere.
The tour culminated with a stroll through Maria Hernandez Park (where people were playing volleyball, which kind of blew my mind until Adam explained its popularity in Ecuador and Mexico). We ended things at "The Well," a block of Knickerbocker that previously contained a seemingly-bottomless supply of drugs in the 80s. Say what you will about the neighborhood now, we're already a long way from that now.
The other day I heard the whining of a cat. This is obviously not that unusual around my house, but it was coming from outside. Which okay is also not all that unusual. But anyway this whining was more pained or forlorn or whatever, so it got my attention. I looked out and saw a black and white cat on a stoop across the street, crying at the door. The cat looked suspiciously like Marbles, who also used to sit on various stoops before we took her inside. It seemed pretty clear it lived in the house and wanted back in.
As I watched the cat, the neighbor next door to the cat emerged with their enormous Rottweiler. The dog is a fairly docile female, obviously not one of the 'bad' Rotts. But still, she's a big, big dog. The guy brought her down and started walking her down the sidewalk, oblivious to the cat. The dog immediately snapped to attention, pulling on the leash to try to get closer to the cat. The guy, skinny and generally unhealthy-looking, was having a lot of trouble controlling her; he pulled with all his strength and still the dog inched forward.
I don't even think the dog had an malicious intent, she just wanted to get up closer. It yanked the guy right over to the stoop, within a few feet of the cat. Now here's the funny part, the cat stood its ground and fought back!
You shoulda seen this little cat, all arched-back and puffed-out tail, hissing and growling at this enormous dog, rearing up and spitting. This was either one tough cookie or one stupid feline. The dog still leaned on the leash, the guy still struggled to pull her back to the sidewalk. Eventually he got the dog to walk further down the street. I figured the encounter was over, but a minute later they were heading back, but now the guy had a tree branch in his hand.
The cat was still on the stoop, and so the dog was still straining to get at it. So with one hand trying to hold back the dog, the guy starts swatting at the cat with the stick! The cat growls at him but doesn't run away, it just stays out of arm's (stick's) reach. The guy keeps swinging the stick, forcing the cat over to the areaway. Now he's trying to hit the cat by sticking the stick through the bars of the fence. The cat is hiding under some patio furniture, but keeps coming out as if to taunt the doofus. It would have been hilarious if he hadn't been serious.
By this point he's really trying to hurt the cat. At first I thought he was trying to shoo it away so the dog wouldn't be distracted, but now it's pretty obvious he's locked in a battle of wits, and he's unarmed. Except for that stick. He's swearing at the cat as his blows hit nothing but the neighbor's grill; the cat may actually think this is all a game. This guy is the same brain surgeon who got into an argument with the mailman a couple weeks before, resulting in a block-long shouting match as he questioned the mailman's manhood the further he got down the street.
So I'm trying to figure what to do. I want to go out and hit the guy in the head with a brick. I decide to try a passive method, then escalate if necessary. I go out on my stoop with a broom and start sweeping up the leaves (needed to be done anyhow). The Brave One shuts up right quick, drops the stick and disappears inside with the dog. What a douchebag. Did it even occur to him that his neighbors might not like it if he were to bash in the head of their pet? It's assholes like this that give the neighborhood a bad name. The guy's on my shitlist from now on; I've got a tree branch with his name on it.
I'm pretty sure everybody on the block knows about me and our cats, so I'm sure the guy got the message just from me coming outside. I went to check on the cat, it turned out to be a female kitten about 6 months old! What a little sparkplug! She kept on whining, so I brought her over to my stoop and gave her some food. She sunned herself for a while and then left. I didn't see, but I'm hoping she got back in her house. If not, she at least knows where to go if she gets locked out again.
One of the first times I took the J train out to the Halsey station, one of the many reasons I felt like I had stepped off the map was the station itself. All the stations prior to it (and after it if you get to Broadway Junction) have decorative colored glass panels adorning the platforms. Halsey had no such thing, favoring beige-painted solid walls, interrupted only by a small section of chain-link fencing at one end (and there's probably some code thing that insists on this). Because of this disparity, Halsey seemed especially forlorn, like the MTA just didn't care enough about our little stop.
Of course, now that I've lived here a couple years, I don't even notice the walls, unless somebody's tagged it. I've seen far more depressing stations than mine (several on the M line in mid-Bushwick are particularly uninspiring), and I would rather the MTA spent its money fixing the inside of the station (where water tends to pool deeply around the Metrocard vending machines when it rains) rather than give us something purely cosmetic.
But since none of that seems to be happening any time soon, I'm happy to see our station upgraded to the level of, say, the Kosciuszko station. The panels looks very lovely, and the other people on the platform seemed to be pleased by it as well. Is it a sign of increased gentrification here? Or did the MTA just have a lot of leftover panels lying around and they needed the storage space (I note that the panels are all different, unlike most other stations). Probably no special agenda here, I'll know gentrification has stuck on Halsey when the Rite Aid actually stocks things properly.
I went on the latest BCUE walking tour of Bushwick, this time focusing on the southern tip of the neighborhood. Bushwick Specialist Adam Schwartz (of upfromflames fame) led some 20-odd folks around, getting down to the Trinity Cemetery and up to Irving Square Park, going through the side streets along the way. I'm not sure if the route was selected for this purpose directly, but we went by some lovely homes, and not the kind of thing I would have expected.
When I walk around my neighborhood, it's usually for some purpose like running errands or heading to the train. I don't get a lot of time to stroll around and just look at the place. Since I spend most of my time on Broadway, my view of Bushwick is loud and garbage-strewn, with a lot of shuttered storefronts. While this may be accurate, there's also a lot of charming homes and people hidden in there somewhere. It seems odd to have such a revelation since I've been living here for nearly two years; I realized that my estimation of the neighborhood has been, my block is nice but not much else is around here. But like my street, there's many well-maintained blocks full of beautiful houses. Thanks to the tour I was able to pay more attention to this fact, as well as pick up some history as well.
I was a bit disappointed to see only a couple of people I recognized from the bushwickbk.com, but this side of the neighborhood is not exactly a hotspot: most of the tour attendees appeared to be senior citizens, possibly residents of one of the former iterations of Bushwick. The meet-up was especially surreal because a) they were working on the street so there was almost no traffic, and b) the meeting spot at Chauncey is surrounded by new construction retail buildings, none of which appear to be rented yet. But when we plunged down the side streets, the scene changed immediately to the neighborhoody vibe that had attracted me here in the first place.
We saw several sides of the neighborhood, the beautiful churches, the Shell station that used to be Trommer's brewery, the houses on Chauncey Street with the weird little balconies. As we were covering the Our Lady of Lourdes part of the tour, we met Izzy, a local who led us to the church's current incarnation in a former Chevrolet warehouse off Bushwick Ave. The Most Holy Trinity Cemetery was founded on the notion that all people should be equal, at least in memoriam, so all the grave markers are made out of metal. A nice theory, but this leaves you with a field of rusty tombstones.
I had to ditch the tour a little early to go to a band rehearsal, but not before we saw an impeccably-appointed fire house, and spied a pigeon coop on top of a building on the corner of Eldert Street. Adam explained the sport of pigeon flying, in which competitors try to lure other people's pigeons (O.P.P.) into their flock. I knew about the sport after puzzling over the "Pigeons & Pet Supplies" store at the end of my block, but I've never seen a coop before. I probably just haven't been paying attention.
Ironically the tour ended up making things seem less exotic to me. Demystifying the neighborhood is a good thing since I feel like I understand a little more clearly how this spot I call home came to be. But knowing the history doesn't change the fact that it's still just a neighborhood, the changes that have occurred since I got here are just another drop in the bucket.
Why is this night different from all other nights?
The J train has turned out to be one of the better lines in the city, but don't tell anybody. I'd rather that stay our little secret. Let the people go on fulling up petition after petition to improve the G train in the hopes that the MTA will ever give a hoot. The fewer people riding the J train, the better. Trains run so on-time they often arrive a minute early, and when was the last time anybody talked about a train running on its intended schedule? The J cleaves close to its official schedules, at least around rush hour when I take it most often. Trains can be crowded in the mornings but it's rarely as packed as the poor 4/5 trains. Part of the reason we moved to Bushwick is from learning what a good train the J is. But recently the J train has besmirched its reputation.
Take the above screen as an example. This has been happening a lot lately: track work means the trains skip stations in one or both directions. It's just a few stations but it's especially cruel this weekend as we will be having people over. It's hard to enough to lure people unfamiliar with our neighborhood to get on the J train in the first place. We live a block and a half from the station and people get lost; how will we pitch this service advisory, which basically means people will have to go down to Broadway Junction and get on a Manhattan-bound J for two stops to get to our house?
It would almost be better if there were NO trains running, as they'd have to run shuttle buses then, which would more or less stop at every station (though they do this a block away on Bushwick Ave for some reason). I'm hoping that they end up dropping the whole thing and run things normally, they've totally done this before. But you won't know until you get to the Myrtle Ave station.
Perhaps this is the MTA's way of stemming the flood of gentrification of the area: just when the post-collegiate crowd was really taking an interest to the neighborhood, they start messing with the trains so that if people don't get off the trains before Myrtle, they end up in East New York! God forbid.
I guess I could also say there was some kind of antisemitic thing going on since it's Passover this weekend, but then I scheduled a party on this same night, so I (as a fallen Red Sea Pedestrian) don't have much room to complain. And yet, I suspect I'll continue to find a way.
Hey does anybody attend their Block Association meetings? I finally did a couple weeks ago. Sorta.
When we moved in at the end of 2006 we received a flyer for the meeting, but we didn't make it. We didn't see another flyer until a month ago, so I decided I better make it to this one so I could find out the schedule. It was at 6PM, so Jeannie couldn't go. Plus it was that Tuesday a couple weeks ago that snowed all day. I was running around, picking up newly-fixed cats from BARC,I was tired and I had to shovel the sidewalk so nobody sued me. I was thinking of reasons not to go, but I went anyway.
The meeting was at the library at the end of the block, whose staff didn't seem to know anything about any meetings. But the Young Adult Coordinator checked her log book and confirmed that somebody booked a meeting room. She took me to the empty room, so I sat around trying to determine how long to stay before I could in good conscience, bail.
Eventually a guy showed up, he was the treasurer of the group. Nobody else showed up. But we talked for a while and he said he'd try to adjust the meeting to make them more appealing to the block (like moving the time to 7PM so people could actually make it). He had lots of ideas he wanted to act on, but of course the problem was money, and getting people to pitch in.
One idea included getting the city to erect barriers on our block during the days of summer, so the kids could play without fear of being mowed down by anything but gunfire. He brought up an initiative to get people to clean up after their dogs, which would be nice though I'm not sure how to enact it except to put up a bunch of scolding flyers.
When he started talking about dogs, it gave me leeway to starts my spiel on cats. I told him about our TNR efforts, and how the people we've worked with would trap ferals in people's backyards for free. He warmed to the idea, especially when I noted that a fixed cat won't spray that awful musk, or make yowly mating noises.
Additionally I pointed out the ASPCA would be coming to Saratoga park on the 28th to do their Free/Low-Cost Spay thing. He seemed vaguely aware of the Mobile Clinic, but didn't know its schedule. So I said I'd put up some flyers to alert people.
I only put a few homemade flyers (which I forgot to save so I don't have any electronic version, the ones here are general info flyers) up that explain the process, but I justified it because I wanted to focus attention on my own block. While I was hanging a flyer, a couple of women walking a little dog asked me about it. They too seemed to be familiar with it, but didn't know the details. I gave them a flyer and clarified that people on assistance got their pets fixed for free, which they didn't know. Not sure if they'll take their dog in, but I'm glad to get a little evidence that the flyers might help.
Now I just gotta find a way to get more people to show up to the meeting! Maybe I can get the newly-renovated Dunkin Donuts to cater the affair.
This one may not be as impressive, since the cat was more or less full grown when we first took her in. This is Gladys, who became the first stray to be taken in for the express purpose of spaying her and adopting her out. She showed up over the summer, with a litter of kittens somewhere on the block. She was super skittish at first, but quickly warmed up and started entering the house, mostly to play with cat toys and growl at the other cats. Once a resident, along with her 3 kittens, they doubled the number of cats in the house, which at the time felt overwhelming. Ha. When not threatened by the other cats (or her own kittens), she was an awesome cat, we had misgivings about adopting her out, but it was the correct move considering how many more cats would follow suit.
We got some interest in her on Craig's List, and had a woman come to see her. Gladys didn't 'show' well: She was being super lame, feeling that all the attention was suspect, and didn't really display her more endearing qualities. Lucky for us, the woman's friend had lots of cat experience and could see she was worthwhile, so Gladys ended up moving to a cat-free house in Gowanus. She's reportedly much happier, which seems evident from these photos. She loved sleeping on the bed, but because of all the other cats, she usually ended up having to beat a hasty retreat, growling all the way. Now she gets to hog the bed 24/7! It's funny to look at these pictures now, previously I thought of her as somewhat roly-poly, but here, if anything, she looks skinny. Maybe my perspective has changed since our cats are several pounds overweight now. Gotta start a Kitty Gym.
Speaking of cats that don't get along so great with other cats: 'Mona' the lovely little gray and white cat has finally been adopted! She will be picked up tonight and taken to her new home on the north side of Bushwick. I like it when the cats get to stay in the vicinity, I don't know why.
So we finally got some real snow! I wonder how long it will last this time, the afternoon forecast is for "Wintry Mix" which always makes me think of "Winter Blend," the combo of cauliflower and broccoli sold in the Key Food frozen food section. So it never sounds as bad as it actually is.
This morning I got to take a barometer reading of how Bushwick is affected when Old Man Winter descend upon us. As you know, I've been trapping feral cats and getting them fixed at BARC through a new program. I was planning on bringing in a cat this morning, but had to give up because everybody was using up all the car services.
I've done this before, call up a car service around 8, jam up to BARC to drop off the cat(s), then hop on the L train to go to work. But every single number I called was either busy or giving me that interminable 'hold' recording ("Your call is very important to us"). I did get one answer from a poor soul who seems to have received the phone number of what I'm guessing is a now-defunct livery company ("why people call all the time this number?!')
What I can't figure out is, who's taking these cars? When it snows a lot, isn't mass transit still the preferred mode of travel? The streets weren't too bad, at least there wasn't much traffic when I headed out later, the cat back in its room to wait until tomorrow to go in. But what few cars were out were moving slow; I can't imagine anybody was getting anywhere faster this way.
So who is it taking up all the cars on these days? Is it people taking their kids to school? Somehow that seems to be the only possible justifiable reason, even though that too doesn't make a lot of sense. Don't people know that those cars are needed to cart stray cats around town?
I suppose I could just take the cat on the train, though the prospect of walking with my poorly-designed cat carrier from the Marcy station to BARC is fairly daunting. So maybe I'm just a wimp, but at least I won't annoy people on the train with a yowling space-taking-up box.
If I win the lottery, I'm buying BARC a helicopter just for pet transport.
I haven't posted much here lately, but there are lots of pictures on my Flickr site. Besides the obligatory cat photos, there's some photos of the baby shower we attended on Saturday. I feel so grown up.
The shower finally gave us a reason to go into the Kidz & Co. store that opened up on the corner of our street. When the place opened several months ago, our dim hopes for a bar or bakery or even a Conway were dashed, and we just learned to live with yet another store that we had no use for on the block.
But our friends breeding gave us shopping rites, and man, baby clothes are cheap! Especially at this south Bushwick outlet. We chose a dark-blue hoodie with a printed pattern of gold dollar signs and diamonds. It's meant for a 12-month old, but clothes like that are meant to be worn large. Even though the baby will live in Chelsea, in case she comes to Brooklyn, she'll know just what to wear.
At the other end of our street is The Silent Barn, a performance space that has seen its share of amazing shows. Problem is, I haven't been to hardly any. The last time I was there was New Year's Eve, which was like a year ago. Yikes! I'm not sure why we never get over there, perhaps it's because of our odd distance from it.
The place is about a mile from my house. To get there by subway, I'd have to take the J train at Halsey down to Broadway Junction and transfer to the L, and take it up to ... Halsey. But you know, on the other side of Halsey. This seems prohibitively roundabout, so we've never done it.
The moere obvious way to get there is take the B26 bus straight across Halsey to our destination. We did this before and it works, but only on the way out. Considering it was past 4am when we were coming home, no bus showed. We ended up walking the whole way back, and I don't believe we saw a bus in either direction. However, I did find a discarded broomstick I needed for the poly applicators we had to refinish our floors. In retrospect, the long walk probably did much to stave off a hangover, but still: I'm Old. I Want Convenient Travel Options.
Anyway I bring this up apropos of Parts & Labor playing there with Ex-Models side project Knyfe Hyts on Saturday evening. We haven't seen them in forever, and I think they have a new drummer now, so what the hell, we'll go check it out. I recommend the band (unless hte new drummer sucks) and the venue. AND I heartily recommend patronizing the gas station down the street; they sell CornNuts.
After the debacle of trying to capture kittens the other night, I have been afraid we spooked them so much that they wouldn't come back. Well, we still might have over-spooked those two kittens, but the original kitten returned last night, along with a totally new kitten (pictured above).
I haven't seen this little orange guy at all among Gladys' kittens, but unless he's a tag-along, he's just lat to the party. He ate some, then lurked in the shadows for the rest of the night.
His brother (I think) turned up and basically ate an entire can of cat food himself. Jeannie was able to even touch him briefly; he's not easily scared and usually comes right back if something makes him run off.
We gave him a catnip mouse and he grabbed it and ran outside with it. I saw it out on the areaway later in the night but this morning it was nowhere to be found.
Before I went to bed I shined a flashlight into the storage space under the stoop. I could see that Gladys had climbed back there (she's still small enough to squeeze through the gate door), I assume the kittens were with her. When we left this morning we checked and saw only the orange kitten sleeping there. This works out pretty well as we can leave food there and the bigger cats won't be able to get at it.
We're going out of town next week, which means Matt and Sylvia get to feed all these cats. It's one thing to do it yourself but you really do see how ridiculous it is when you have to train others to keep up your insane antics. But still, we gotta feed these kittens! I hate to lose a week of possible socialization time with them, but there should still be time when we get back to give 'em the My Fair Lady treatment and dole 'em out on an unsuspecting public.
'Twas an exhausting weekend, in which we, you know, actually did stuff instead of lying face-down in a pool of vomit, as on most weekends. No, this weekend we were downright productive! Saturday we dragged ourselves out to the Bushwick Walking Tour. We were a little late and had not committed the map to memory, so we couldn't find the tour for a while. So we conducted our own walking tour as we plodded around in the hot sun. After consulting Jeannie's sister over the phone, we backtracked until we found the group. Now I really wish I had made it to the South Bushwick tour from last month, I bet it had a lot of info that would have been useful to somebody who lives there (me). Saturday's tour was very informative, and really underlines just how different the two poles of the neighborhood are. I'm pretty jealous of some of the stuff up around Maria Hernandez Park, like the multiple produce markets and bakeries.
There was one weird moment when a young white woman crossed our path and seemed incredulous that people would want to tour Bushwick. She walked up to us and said something like, "What are you up to? I've never seen you around here before." I honestly thought she was a shill planted by the organizers to foment a conversation about the necessity of learning about one's environment, etc., but the longer she went on the more I believed her. She expressed disbelief that there was anything worth seeing around the area, then complained at the lack of amenities like coffee shops and the like (why is everybody so obsessed with coffee shops?) It was pointed out that she lived not three blocks from several cafes and restaurants and yes, a coffee shop; she was unaware of any of this. She also declared the M train was the worst train in the system, which I find at least slightly dubious.
If she was for real, I guess that's the type of newcomer that long-term residents find especially disconcerting; they come here for relatively cheap rent even though they're still probably paying lots more than their older neighbors, and they don't really have any conception of the neighborhood, nor see any need to. All that matters is how long it takes to get to Manhattan. Maybe I'm wrong about this woman, but it sure makes me understand the worry that longtime residents will be steamrolled in the mad rush to cater to people who can afford not to give a damn.
In other news, we have officially found adoptive humans for the rest of the kittens! Two couples will be relocating the boys to new digs next week. The ginger cats will remain together, moving up to East Williamsburg, while the Instigator will have the humans all to himself over in Prospect Heights. I think they'll all be happy with their new homes, and I'm really happy at least two of the cats get to grow up together. Most cats really are social animals, even if they don't want to admit it, and they like having other cats around. Of course, try explaining that to Decatur when Jefe is chasing her up and down the basement stairs.
It's a curse of some cats, that they look sweet and happy even when they are clearly miserable. Jefe's a gelding now, and they talked me into the damn collar thing. I thought about skipping it, but he immediately started licking, um, the incision area when we got home.
Yes, that's right: we made it to the ASPCA Mobile Spay Unit! I got up extra early this morning, even though my name was supposedly on a waiting list. I got over to Saratoga Park just after 7AM. The spaymobile was nowhere in sight; nor were any people with pets (aside from dogwalkers). The site clearly states you should arrive before 7 to make sure everything goes smoothly, so I immediately thought it wasn't coming. I stood around like a doofus (and I'm even more out of place there than in my part of the neighborhood, if that's possible).
Finally at 7:30, the truck showed up and parked alongside the park. We then did a whole lot of waiting around, during which time a woman got angry because she had been on the list but didn't get a form to fill out, and a little girl's tooth was loose and was plucked out, causing her to scream like she herself was being spayed. Fun times!
At least the park is relatively nice, and the shade of the sycamores made the wait in the already-awful heat tolerable. At 9AM I got to take Jefe into the truck, where he was placed into a cage next to a darling little kitten whose cage was marked "FERAL," she was hissing at everything.
If you're not on assistance, they ask for a $25 donation, small change when you consider it can cost more than 10 times that if you pay 'retail' at some vets. Additionally they were offering free rabies vaccines, and vaccines for the main cat ailments. With the purchase of the e-collar, the grand total was $30! What a deal. Except for all the waiting around and such, but one could argue you'd have to do the same waiting at a regular vet.
I picked him up around 2:30, he was reportedly an angel for the duration (the doc had trouble listening for his heartbeat because he was purring too loudly). He's still woozy, but this really came out when I put the collar on. He's now under the coffee table trying to pull his own head off, lolling around like a drunk. I can't believe I'm supposed to keep the collar on for 7 to 10 days!
Also, there's all this stuff I'm supposed to do I don't remember doing for any other cats I've had fixed, like replacing cat litter with shredded paper. I understand it's to avoid infection, but I've got 4 litterboxes (and I plan on getting another tomorrow), there is no way I'm shredding that much paper! I do have some of that World's Best Cat Litter, which is mostly dust-free, I might try that on him.
Next up will be Lucy! I dunno when the spaymobile will be back in the neighborhood, but I'll probably just take her to the vet's. I'm not sure I'll be able to get away with being out of the office twice in one week just to get a cat snipped.
The kitten formerly know as Liza has moved uptown to an apartment just off the park. Not bad for the spawn of an alley from the southside of the Shwick! We hope she'll be very happy, she'll have another cat and a dog as siblings. Things may be tense at first, but she has become very friendly and adventurous, so she should be in a good position to meet new animals and people.
It was tough giving her away, but it always is I guess. She's in good hands though, we tried to stick a few more kittens into the outgoing cat carrier but were unsuccessful. Hopefully, we'll get a similar caliber of adopter for the fellas who remain.
I wish I knew the situation with the several other mama cats on the block. Marbles and Gladys have had their litters, but we've seen no sign of them (Gladys' should be big enough to eat solid food now). Bunny (or Mildred) is still very pregnant, but she doesn't seem to want to stay in the house. I'm not sure if we should try to force her to stay in to have her kittens or what. I'm sure I'd feel better about it, but raising kittens is pretty disruptive to the household, maybe it would work better if I had a cat nursery in the cellar. But right there I already feel creepy; what kind of guy builds a cat nursery in his basement?
Anyway, congrats to the new parents of Liza (or whatever she'll actually be called)!!! We expect regular updates, dammit!
I attempted to take Jefe the cat to the ASPCA mobile spay unit today, full of smug self-assurance that I would be one of the few decent citizens taking their cat in to get fixed. However, the opposite was true.
I went at 8 o'clock, even though the info suggested I arrive before 7. My logic was, who knows this is going on? Apparently there is some form of information dissemination that doesn't have to do with the Internet. Who knew? Well, there were already a bunch of people there, with nervous dogs and cats in tow. One of my neighbors was there, keeping her friend company while waiting to get her cat fixed. They told me that yes, all the 25 spots had already been filled for the day, but the spay unit would be back on Friday. This is pretty interesting to me, I guess there were enough people who got shut out here to justify an unscheduled return visit. So I got on the waiting list for that so I will be guranteed a slot.
Poor Jefe, he (and all the cats) were deprived of food since midnight the night before, and he didn't like the carrier one bit. I wonder what it's like to have one of those cats that love their cat carrier, and make not a peep while being transported therein. Jefe whined the whole time, competing with the whimpering pit bull tied up in a pickup truck bed who had a date with the knife.
I think my boss will let me stay home again Friday (I called in sick today; hey, I DID go to a doctor, of sorts). I'm pleased so many people showed up, it's a good reminder that we internet geeks are not in fact the be-all, end-all of communication in this world. It's a tendency we all get into, just look at Brownstoner. He created a flurry of annoying-comment activity on his site the other day because his neighbor had painted his brownstone's doorway white (apparently this violates any number of unenforceable aesthetic codes). People predictably went nuts in the comments section, variously shrieking about the affront or defending a man's right to paint his house whatever ugly color he damn well pleases.
The story was picked up by the local media (yes it's THAT important), who spoke with the owner who explained he was just having the portal REpainted, and that the white stuff was primer. Then the blog was hit with another load of Monday-morning quarterbacking. I was still shaking my head at the whole sorry affair as I ambled to the spay unit this morning, foolishly believing myself above that kind of internet-based solipcism. But hey, I got it wrong too!
So the lesson learned is: don't believe everything you read on the Internet. Or in my case, don't believe people don't know about something just because YOU don't.
And now, more kittens! They're really coming along well now, they're learning how to be a little more docile and deferent, and there has only been one litterbox accident since last week. And when I find the kitten who peed on my shoe ...
Big Giant Head This male ginger kitten is gonna be a big adult from the looks of him. His head is really big, and his eyes are set farther apart than usal (which makes him a little wall-eyed now). But from the size of his skull and his paws, I'd say he's setting the stage to be one big boy when he grows up. Despite his gargantuan size, he's a bit of a momma's boy but is as playful as the others.
Liza Minelli The sole female of the litter, and the only Tortoiseshell. She is shaping up to be a very exotic looking cat, with the bizarre undercoat action alternating between ginger-tiger and black. Her energy level is second only to the Gray kitten, she loves to race around and play with her brothers or any loose fabric she can find. She's a little more cautious than the boys, but once she knows the coast is clear she'll be out and and about and all over your shoelaces!
Gray Instigator Precocious from birth, this male gray and white kitten has always been a step ahead of the rest of the litter. He learned to walk first, eat solid food, play and generally behave like a real cat before any of the others. I'm pretty sure they learned how to do everything from watching him. He's very high energy now, but also will curl up and sleep next to any humans in the area. Definitely will be a cat that owns his human and not the other way around.
Littleface More proportionate (for the time being) than his ginger brother Big Giant Head, this male kitten's facial features are conveniently located at the tip of his head, giving him the classic kitten details. Of all the kittens, he is the most people-oriented, he loves to play with humans. Of course, he roughouses with the kittens as well, but he always runs straight to us when we enter the room. First kitten to learn to use a litterbox, which is big points in my book!
I've compiled new photos into individual Flickr albums so you can get a clear picture of each one. Plus I've shot some more poorly-shot video of the kittens playing. This video showcases the female calico kitten at the beginning: tell me you don't want to take her home after her little hind-legs move:
I forgot to take pictures of the kittens again, but I'll try to take some tonight. It's pretty fascinating to watch the progress. They are now a month old and are behaving more and more like cats and less like larvae.
Elsewhere in the cataverse, I thought another rundown of the main locals is in order. Many of the cats who hung around a while ago have not been seen in a while, while new cats have appeared to take their places.
Marbles. This is the cat that I thought was male at first, but she proved me wrong by getting pregnant. She hasn't given birth yet, we have tried to get her inside but she doesn't like to stay long after she eats. Then again, she will lie for hours next to our garbage cans, which apparently she prefers to our comfy chairs.
Gladys. This little female started showing up about the time we realized Marbles was pregnant, I had hoped to ensnare her and have her fixed. Then I realized she already gave birth and was currently nursing a litter. No telling how old they are or where they are being raised.
Jojo. This young male showed up the other day, barged into the house, flopped down on the floor and hasn't left. He will not take no for an answer and I'm a sucker for a gray tabby. Since we seem to have no choice in the matter it looks like we're keeping him. I wanna take him into the shop to make sure he's not harboring some horrible disease. He still spends nights outside until we can confirm his health and his ability to play nice with others.
Siamese Cat. This guy is a prizewinner. I don't think he's purebred because he's sort of muscular and stocky for a Siamese. But he's one good-lookin' cat. If anybody wants a Siamese, I'm working on taming him and will try to get him fixed. How does such a cat become a stray? Even if he's a mix, these cats don't usually come cheap. We came up with a host of theories, usually involving an elderly dowager who owned the cat, then died, leaving him homeless. That's probably not what happened, but at least it allows me to look at him and not necessarily think somebody tossed him on the street on purpose.
Chauncey. You may remember this guy, we haven't seen him for a long time. He was part of the whole crew of cats who used to come by and try to steal our cats' food. His sudden reappearance gives me hope that some of the other cats we haven't seen lately are still out there and okay. We're nearly positive he had an owner now, since he's been MIA for months and then shows up looking totally healthy. Unfortunately, the intervening months have shifted his personality from goofball older kitten to randy young adult. He got into the house and got into a fight with Lucy which I feel only happened because she's the only unaltered female around. It's too bad, he was a fun cat. This makes me want to take him in and have him fixed, even though he's not a stray. Imagine his owner's surprise when he comes home sans balls! Anyway it's an interesting ethical question.
And finally, the New Cat. Actually, there are at least two of them, as a pair showed up the other night. I think they're washing their paws in the water dish I leave out. They are enormous, by the way. What bizarre animals.
Also sighted lately include George, the tuxedo cat (newly-thin after giving birth, we assume), the flea collar cat, the second Russian Blue (who showed up the same day as Chauncey, they may both be owned by the same person).
Gothamist had another depressing post about the number of cats in the city. Damn there are a lot of cats here! And people do not seem to be getting any smarter. I commented that it seemed to me the best course of action for the city would be to offer free neutering to any pet owners. If people would only get their pets fixed, we wouldn't be up to our ears in the first place. Of course, there's already a huge number of wild cats out there too. But I don't think it's the feral cats who are dropping of boxes of kittens in front of every shelter in town.
Anyway, somebody responded to my comment with:
The ASPCA offers FREE and low-cost spay and neuter services six days a week for pet owners who are residents of New York City's five boroughs.
Low income pet owners in New York City's five boroughs with proof of public assistance such as Welfare, Medicaid, Medicare, SSI, Disability, Food Stamps, or Public Housing qualify. Unemployment does not qualify. If you do not have proof of public assistance, a $25 donation per animal is requested.
The ASPCA website has the schedule of spay/neuter clinic locations and more info on the "New York Services" page:
http://www.aspca.org
Or you can call for the schedule here: (212) 876-7700 / Ext.4303
Hey! Somebody is offering free/low-cost neutering, AND coming to specific neighborhoods! Now my question is, are they telling anybody about this? If you check the calendar, you will see the mobile spay unit does get around. In fact, it's been to Bushwick recently. Funny, I didn't hear about it. Oh yeah that's right, NOBODY TOLD ANYBODY THEY WERE COMING.
Maybe I'm not going to the right parties or reading the right magazines, is the SPCA promoting this fact in any real sense? I don't know what I want from them exactly, but I've been trying to find resources for "cheap fixes" for some time and this is the first I've heard of it. So I'm trying to think of ways to spread the word, aside from the mighty power that is this blog.
I really can't figure out the mindset of people who own pets but don't get them fixed, especially cats. Unaltered cats, male and female, are full of drawbacks. The males caterwaul, fight, and spray everything in sight. Females go into heat and then have kittens all over the place. Would the owners of animals who do this have the wherewithal to note when the mobile unit would be in town and get their cats worked on? Seems unlikely to me.
Worse is the fact that the next time the mobile unit comes to my neighborhood, it'll be on a workday, so only the unemployed or those in a position to take time off from work can make it. I know this thing has to roll all over town, but this still sucks. I think I can take the day off from my job, but lots of people don't have that flexibility. Oh well, it's a start.
All this cat stuff is grating on me of late, as I've noticed even more pregnant cats in the street lately. Apparently this is prime kitten season, but there's a lot of summer left.
... Plus we kind of took in another cat the other day, but that's a story for another day. Spread the word about the mobile spay unit and get your damn cats fixed!
The kittens are coming along nicely. At 3 weeks, they can all walk fairly competently, can play with each other, and wake us up in the middle of the night when they start whining because they're stepping on each others' heads.
By far this gray and white kitten has been paving the way for the others. even at 2 weeks old he was moving more and talking more than the others. He was the first to purposefully exit the closet and start exploring the room. He was also the first one to use his voice to communicate, much to our chagrin. He already has a large vocabulary of squeaks and groans and shrieks. He has never been shy about vocalizing. From what I've been reading about kitten development, until recently the kittens couldn't even hear particularly well, so I'm hoping he will quiet down now that he can hear how annoying he is.
He started engaging the other kittens in play fighting several days ago. He could barely walk a straight line but he still tried to bat the other kittens around. Soon they picked up on it, and now they're all smacking each other around, like tiny versions of the 3 Stooges.
Meanwhile, kitten mania in South Bushwick continues unabated. Marbles is largely pregnant, we're not sure what to do with her, since she won't come into the house for any length of time. We don't want to force her so I'm thinking of putting a box out on the stoop areaway so maybe she'll go in there.
On top of that, this OTHER young cat has been coming around lately. She could be from the same litter as Lucy, she's a calico too, but more rounded than Lucy. I was thinking of getting her in so I could have her fixed BEFORE she gets pregnant, only to realize yesterday that she's nursing a litter RIGHT NOW. Great. I don't know where these kittens are, or if we'll ever get to see them. But of course, if we do, you will certainly see photos of them here. Oh yes.
As promised, less kittens and more big fat white cats in the back yard! We hit up Home Depot yesterday for the first of what will probably be several trips there to populate the yard with plants. they had a surprisingly good selection, both for the garden and the window boxes I bought months ago but have yet to fill and mount. And yes, the window boxes are the lame plastic kind, but that's all they had at the XXtra discount store. In fact, HD was running low on decent planters too, I saw only one window box worth anything, and it was too small. To remedy this, we tried to get plants that would spill over the edge of the box to minimize our gauchity.
For the boxes we got annuals (including some 'double impatiens' which I just think are swell), but everything for the yard is perennial, so that we may enjoy the greenery for years to come. Or until we win the lottery. We're sort of reaching at straws, picking out stuff we like with little plan as to where stuff will get planted. But I guess it can go anywhere for now, it's not like we're gonna run out of room with the few plants we have so far.
At some point I'll have to remove most of the mint plants that sprouted up everywhere. I hate to tear up a perfectly serviceable plant that is doing a helluva job covering the side of the yard, but then, it's not like it won't just come right back.
I still want to get some big planters and plant some tall skinny trees so that I may move them around the patio at will, but HD had only superlame planters left. What's up with the state of outdoor furnishings? It's like people want their yards to look like the Enchanted Fairy Forest of Faux-Bronze Pots with Little Fleur-de-Lis all over the place. To the customers' credit, it seemed all the plainly designed planters and whatnot had all been sold, leaving the fugly stuff behind. But somebody must be buying this crap. I'll take my plastic boxes over the ostentatious stuff any day!
I've got the rest of the week off! If only I could enjoy it, but the specter of the workload when I return will ruin my ability to savor my freedom. Unless, perhaps, I get really drunk.
On the Map Dept: I live on Eldert Street, a 6 block long stretch on the south side of the Shwick (let's get all the kids to start calling it that!). My end of the block is residential, rowhouses and an elevated train. Children run around the block and participate in activities that can only be described as "wholesome." They roller skate (with or without those shoes with the wheels in the back), jump rope, bike, play basketball, pick broomsticks out of the trash and hit each other with them. It's been pretty startling to see kids act like this, I thought kids just sat in front of the TV all day, absorbing Fritos and Hawaiian Punch while watching reality TV shows about people starving themselves. What I wanna know is, how do these nice little kids transform into the surly teenagers who hang out further down the block?
Anyway, that's life on my end of Eldert Street. On the other end there is an old knitting factory building that's been converted to loft apartments. The industrial side of Bushwick somehow made it this far south, seemingly only along the L train. The building at 345 Eldert is full of artists, and apparently a group of them are trying to get financial backers so they can buy their building from its management company. If successful, they will have a huge space in which the artists call the shots. Nice idea, I guess, but are they serious? The article in the Brooklyn Paper isn't clear how much of a joke this is, but the accompanying photo doesn't lend a whole lot of credibility to their crusade. They need some kind of venture capitalist to provide the dough to buy the place, who's gonna do that? This sounds like the 21st century version of the "Let's put on a show!!" type stuff from the 70's and 80's. I hope they pull it off, though I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time anybody thought of this ("Hey, we all live here, we're all into the same stuff, let's buy the building!"), but I dunno if anybody ever actually went through with it. Aren't there any wealthy, eccentric philanthropists anymore?
Still, the notion of a gaggle of artists trying to run their own building ... shades of Lord of the Flies? Speaking of which, are you aware there's gonna be a reality TV show in which a group of children live in the wild without adult supervision? See what the kids on my street are missing out on?
Ironically, the same weekend that Jen succeeded in getting most of her kittens adopted out, Lucy dropped a litter of her own in the closet. I suspected something was up when she was sitting next to me on the couch, acting a little weird. Then I noticed something spilled on the cushion; I assumed I spilled coffee (I pathologically spill coffee all the time). But in retrospect I'm pretty sure her water broke. Cuz right after this, she started staking out a birthing spot. I had set up a box with a towel in the living room, and she did try to go inside it. Sadly, Hubcap was already in it and he didn't want to leave. So she went into our bedroom, which features 4 closet doors to hide behind. She managed to wedge herself behind a box in the far left closet, giving her a space the size of a shoebox to give birth.
By this time I was already in Manhattan, spending the day with my parents, in town for work. We went to the Met, and while we were resting at the museum cafeteria, Jeannie called me up to inform me of kitten birth. She end up having to remove the box just to give Lucy enough room as the kittens kept coming. She eventually replaced it with a smaller box (after ejecting Hubcap from it) which Lucy readily accepted.
So I didn't get to witness this beautiful and gross miracle of life, but from the sound of it, I can't say I mind too terribly. She had 3 kittens in rapid succession, and then after a delay of several hours, had one more. I still can't believe all those cats were inside her! I thought she had another week or two from the look of her, but apparently she had other plans.
So did you know that there's a placenta for each kitten? It's kind of disgusting! Luckily the Moms cut the cords and disposed of everything that wasn't cute and fuzzy. None of the kittens look like her, there are orange tabbies, a gray and white tabby, and a black-orange mottled kitten. It seems odd that none came out in that standard calico-on-white pattern. We were hoping we would be able to tell who the father was by the kittens' markings, but they came out looking like several of the local Casanovas. I did read that it is possible for a female cat to get pregnant by more than one father at a time, but that's pretty rare. I'll have to research more about calico cats; I know about how there are almost no male calicos, but is it a recessive gene or something?
Anyway, now that the furor over Jen's cats is beginning to die down, we can begin taking orders for this batch. So who wants kittens? We're pretty sure that by the time they're ready to ship they will be very social and will be able to do tricks and say 'I love you' in several languages. Be the first kid on your block to own one (or more) of these amazing creatures.
Things seem to be going along okay with Lucy the Pregnant cat so far. I can't tell how far along she is but you can feel the kittens moving around inside, so maybe they're getting antsy to get out?
Cat Meeting
We're trying to decide how involved we want to get with the local cat population, but we found out that there is a mobile spay unit that will actually come out and fix a population of neighborhood cats (provided you have at least 10), which would nicely curtail feline reproduction on our block. But to get to this point we'd have to get the cats to warm up to us more to have a chance of getting them into the Spay-O-Matic. But of course, doing this means feeding all of these cats (instead of just some of them), pretty much for the rest of their lives unless they can be adopted out (which in the case of cats like Mugsy, is pretty unlikely). But maybe it's not that big a deal; indeed, some might argue I've been heading towards this kind of thing for years, why fight it?
All of this stuff is certainly easier to deal with now that it's summer. Winter is the real test, so at least I have some time to decide. Though I sure would like to get these animals fixed ASAP, to avoid the bittersweet heartbreak of More Kittens. Which reminds me, if anybody wants a kitten, head over to north Bushwick and check out Jen's brood. She's got a couple of gray tabbies left to dole out. If however you prefer a calico, just give us a couple weeks and Lucy will produce something to your specifications. If you can't use any new cats, please spread the word to your less web-savvy pals!
Oh, and last night a raccoon showed up in the yard. Think we should adopt it too? And for the record, Mr Bones was suddenly not so tough when this bad boy strolled by.
Ugh, the last few days have been miserable, and not just because of the rain. Sometime on Friday night, Decatur slipped out an open front window. We didn't realize it until the next afternoon. We started searching around the area, trying to apply some form of feline logic to the situation. It seemed to me she would have dashed across the street into the vacant lot/parking lot as it is easy to get into and hide. But the more we looked around, the more we realized how many places there are for a small animal to hide. Not the least of these is the church yard behind our house.
At this point we didn't know what window she went through, so we looked out in the back as well. The church has been out of commission for years and the lot (which contains both church, rectory house and driveway) is totally grown over and full of trash. So it's basically a stray cat's amusement park. I searched through it several times, rousting many other cats, but not the one I was looking for.
The circumstances surrounding Decatur's disappearance may shed some light on all this: see, on Friday night we let some cats into the house. One was that Russian Blue cat I spoke of earlier, the other was the Kool-Aid Kitten, who has an even better 'in' to our home: she's pregnant.
Last time Decatur was around a cat with kittens, she bolted and I didn't see much of her for over a month. I didn't know if this was the same situation or if she was really lost; she had never been out front before, and this weekend had been fraught with stuff to scare both cats and humans. Friday night there was some huge to-do down at the far end of the block; we heard what may have been shotgun blasts and soon the street was full of people, cops, ambulance, fire trucks. Not sure what the story was there but it was a bit unsettling. Saturday night as we were entertaining friends with discussions of how Bushwick is really much nicer than its reputation suggests, some dipshit started shooting a gun right outside our house. I'm still not sure what that one was about, I checked outside afterwards but saw no one in evidence, shooter or shootee (the next day the cops came and placed tiny orange cones next to each bullet casing; the bullets had shot out the rear window of an SUV).
So I thought Decatur might have been so spooked by the commotion that she had gotten herself really lost. Anyway, we kept up the searching and the fretting, I made flyers and posted to lost-pet web sites. But things wrapped up pretty much 20 minutes after I put up the flyers.
I noticed the parking lot gate was open, a guy from Luis Refrigeration was changing the tire of his company van, so I went in and asked if it would be okay to look around for the cat. I went to the back of the lot, which was covered with that bamboo-like stuff I so detested from my old back yard, shook a jar of cat treats and called her name. Like it was nothing, Decatur emerged from the underbrush. Just like that.
She was no worse for the wear, despite having been outdoors for all the huge storms of late. the tire-changing guy said that he had seen her sleeping in the cab of one of the trucks that park there. I brought her back inside and she seemed nonplussed to be home. In short, my sympathy levels dropped at light speed. Damn these cats!
Anyway, she's back home and she's being sweet again, so all is well. We have the house on lockdown so nobody's coming in or out for once. We're not sure what to do about the pregnant cat, I'm hoping to relocate her to the backyard, but she seems to be fine with living in the lot across the street. That may be the most ironic aspect of Decatur's sojourn: if she left because she didn't want to share space with the pregnant cat, why then did she move herself to that lot, where the very same cat spends most of her time? This is the logic you get from an animal with a brain the size of a walnut.
I'll have more stuff on the stray population, we have some real characters around here!
Freddy the Formerly Stray Cat scared us the other night when she climbed over the back fence and into the church yard behind it. She wouldn't come back, bedding down in an old milk crate and staring at me critically when I tried to convince her to come back inside. I feared we'd have to start all over with her, slowly luring her back to the house, but the next day she ran into the kitchen like nothing had changed. But it had ...
On a previous night, she got into a growling match with a big male cat that had traipsed into the yard. Now it seems she and this cat were pals; they slept next to each other in the church yard and hung out together on the patio. Not only that, but her ambassadorship seems to be attracting others. The other night we were sitting in the living room when I noticed a cat sitting on the kitchen counter. This is not unusual, but it wasn't one of our cats. It was a Russian Blue, looking pretty much show-quality, if a little on the thin side. He had come through the open window that sits above the counter. And Freddy's original friend kept lookout on the window sill. It then occurred to me that I had left that window open the night before in case Freddy decided to return, so they'd probably already done a dry run for this infiltration.
I don't know if these cats are strays (gently used) or feral (Born Free), but they bolted when we inched over towards them. The Blue cat really was a lot better-looking than pretty much any of our cats, it makes me wonder if I can trade some of them in. But we haven't seen it since. Meanwhile, the parade of neighborhood cats continues unabated.
Out on the street there are tons of street cats that appear to go from stoop to stoop looking for handouts. We keep getting visited by a calico kitten who momentarily garnered my sympathies because I thought she was covered in her own blood. I carried her out to the back yard and stuffed her full of cat food. Then I noticed the 'blood' splashed on her side much more closely resembled Kool-aid. I guess that's 'street smarts.'
Here's something to waste some time during your workday: Google Maps has added a 'Street View' feature that allows you to see a 360-degree panorama of your location. Granted, they haven't mapped out the most important areas of the city yet (namely, in front of my house), but I'm sure they're working on it. Oddly, they have actually mapped all of Bushwick Ave, which comes within a block of my house. This is odd because I would have thought they would have mapped out Broadway first, which runs parallel to Bushwick Ave. Then again, in my few driving experiences here, I noted with disdain how screwed up Broadway is. For such a seemingly vital thoroughfare, it's pothole-ridden and stoplight-laden. Anyhow, the photo above is a bodega I often frequent at the end of my block. My house is actually the other way down the street, but that view is particularly boring-looking under the eye of this map service. When they get down every street, though, you'll really have something. This should have some interesting ramifications. Now people can virtually walk down Atlantic Ave in Brownsville and East New York with impunity.
Meanwhile, it was a lovely weekend all around. One semi-disappointment was that the tree service guys never came back for all the remaining detritus. They had told me to keep a good portion of their fee as a deposit, which would be collected when they showed up to take all the vines and leafy parts. The logic involved was that this material needed to dry out to be easily handled (all the wood goes to a chipper and gets turned into mulch). Saturday came and went without a word, even after I tried to contact them. The forecast for Sunday was rain, so I got antsy, thinking if the whole reason they left this stuff was because it needed to dry out, getting rained on wasn't gonna help. So i got out the contractor bags and went to town on it. It wasn't actually that difficult, and soon I had almost all of it bagged. Now I just have to dole it out to the trash, and I've just saved a tidy sum on my tree/ladder issue. Still, it's not exactly good business practice to leave your customers hanging, especially since this guy was trying to sell me on many of his fence and deck-building expertise.
Ever-attuned to all things related to soundproofing, I read with interest the NYTimes article about people dealing with noise issues in their homes. I'm mostly glad they actually devoted a (small) section of the article to the DIYer, though the brunt of the article was clearly aimed at people who will pay through the nose for quiet. It still astounds me not only that people are willing to pay so much ($3-4K PER ROOM!) for stuff like this, but that plenty of folks in this town are willing to do this for property they don't even own.
Like that episode of Seinfeld when Jerry has Conrad/Con/Conny redo his kitchen cabinets, it always sticks in my craw that he was just renting. But apparently it's not the unheard-of for renters to upgrade their apartments. I guess they assume they'll be there long enough to make the lost expense when they move worth their while. Maybe I'm more old-fashioned that I thought (don't worry kids, I'm still wicked cool), less existential than I thought I was (don't worry kids, I'm still wicked goth). Maybe it doesn't matter in the long run if you own something, as long as you have landlords who will let you install $10,000 soundproof windows and $250 per panel Quietrock drywall.
Meanwhile, the cops have been outfitted with Segways. If there is a god in heaven, please let them start patrolling my neighborhood. Oh sweet jesus I would love to see what the neighborhood would have to say about that. I hope they're teaching the cops to juggle spaldeens as well. That's money well spent!
And congratulations to Jenblossom, whose stray cat just moved a little of kittens into her yard. Ah, what fun awaits them! At least those kittens look a little better than the ones I got (pictured). But they're hanging in there, as is their mom.
I'm tired of posting pictures of that damn band room. Anyway, it's nearly done. We still need rugs or something to dampen the sound in the room, but after that it's party time, more or less.
So here's a photo of the neighbors' houses. If you crop out the dirt-floor 'parking lot' on the right, and the enormous consturction site on the left, this little part of the block looks pretty nice. I mean, when people aren't shooting each other, kids aren't fighting, or the ice cream truck isn't parked right in front of the house playing "Turkey in the Straw" for a half hour at a time. What's the rate of psychosis in ice cream truck drivers?
One thing Bushwick has lots of is cats. I have seen actual packs of cats roaming the streets en masse, cats caterwauling on our stoop, cats sleeping inside our gate door. My neighbor complained of cat odor recently and had the chutzpah to suggest it was the fault of my own personal cats. There are literally hundreds of cats out on the streets marking territory or otherwise making their presence known, and MY (currently indoor) cats are stinking up the neighborhood?? See if I invite you to my backyard BBQ now!
We'll see if this little fella amongst the trashcans returns to woo Decatur. This guy, like many of the local felines, seems pretty tame. I wonder if it would do any good to get them into a trap-neuter-release program. If nothing else, I bet it would be a good way to get them to avoid hanging out near my house.
It's already too hard. Nevertheless, here are some good things that came to pass over the weekend:
Finished putting the drywall up in the basement, reinforced and rehung door, sealed joints
Fixed faulty light switch in basement (no more unscrewing the bulbs to turn them off)
Took a nap (a feat in of itself) and Freddie the Stray Cat stayed on the bed with me the whole time (normally she heads for zee hills when i get within eyesight)
You know how sometimes when you drink you end up doing things you later regret? Well, this happened to me the other night. I awoke on Sunday with a pounding head and the sobering realization that at 3:30 the night before I was singing "Captain Jack" because Alex knew how to play it on the piano. Sure it could be construed as an amusing party-type moment, but the more I thought about it, the worse it seemed. Now I keep thinking, "What if the neighbors were trying to sleep? What if their bed is right on the other side of the piano-room wall? Oh god I was singing Billy Joel. I mean, please. Billy Joel."
Luckily, my body shut itself down soon after. My only solace is that I think the neighbors know I live in the lower part of the house, and will blame it on Buzz. They think he's trouble anyway.
This was quite a weekend, but before I get to any of that, I must mention the most bizarre moment of the past 48 hours. Saturday morning (er, afternoon), I was hanging out with the guys from the Makebelieves (they stayed at our house after their Glasslands show), and Al mentioned "What's with your neighbors and their big bird?" He directed me out to the back yard where, 2 yards over, there sat one ring-necked pheasant. Yeah, that's right. A pheasant. Whaa?
Sadly, my stupid camera's batteries were dead and we had no spares around the house (Incidentally, this makes me want to go on a long rant about how it's pissing me off that bodegas constantly sell mostly-dead batteries to me), but you must believe me that inside the chain-link fenced yard, strewn with garbage and renovation debris, a lovely example of this game bird strode about like he owned the joint. A stray cat was in the next yard, eying said bird with great attention. Reportedly, the cat had been in the yard but was actually chased away by the pheasant, which was somewhat larger than the cat.
According to my research though, this is not all that strange. Pheasants are all over the boro, and because nobody is really hunting them, they get along just fine. Still, there's something just plain odd about seeing such an animal in this environment.
A lot of people got it right and the others just wanted to fight
I'm sure the article has already been linked to death, but I just read it for the first time, and like everybody else who's seen it, have been struck with the similarities in real estate issues now and over 20 years ago:
You can argue what neighborhood most closely resembles what the East Village was encountering in 1984, but the language used and points made are lifted every day to describe a bunch of Brooklyn neighborhoods. This could be an article in 2007 about Williamsburg, Bushwick, even speculation-heavy Clinton Hill. Here's a list of stuff lifted from this article that parallel what we've been seeing happen lately:
Local commenting on newcomers: ''I see them walking down the street in identical blue suits with their briefcases and I think, 'There goes the neighborhood.' ''
and
''Why are all these people coming here, where they're so riotously out of place? I don't want my neighborhood to change.''
Contrast of old-school and new construction: "The chrome and glass facade of a newly renovated co-op is a block away from a corner known for prostitution."
and
"There is a sushi bar across the street from an abandoned warehouse and a neoned art gallery stands across from a Ukrainian restaurant closed by spiraling rents after 32 years."
A reminder of how the process tends to work: "The first of these [steps to gentrification] is marked by building deterioration and neighborhood crime, the second by short-term speculators, the third by long-term investors and renovators and the last by full-scale construction."
Quarrels over the very name of a neighborhood: ''As soon as they said 'East Village,' they tripled the rent. It's the East Village to the real-estate brokers,'' she said of the area that has been her home for 30 years. ''To us it's the Lower East Side.''
Quotables from those for and against the changes:
"The area used to be a last-choice area - people thought I was crazy when I started buying here in [insert year]."
''It's finally happened down there. It went through the burnout and the druggies and now there's action.''
''I think it's hypocritical of the people who live here who rail against it. They benefit from the changes. We all do.''
The East Village had (and still has) a Life Cafe, as does a certain, other so-called up & coming neighborhood. Okay, that's a stretch, but I like the symmetry.
And my favorite one-sentence description of a new resident: "The neighborhood is now home to people like Miss Kelley, who graduated from the State University of New York at Binghamton two years ago with a degree in art history and works for a Wall Street real estate broker."
But at what price, your rent? If you run some of the the numbers mentioned in the article through an inflation calculator, you get this:
1984/Now Studio: $570/$1112 1-Bedroom: $700/$1366 2-Bedroom: $900/$1756 Store with Adjoining loft: $500/$975 3-Bedroom: $2000/$3,900 3-story Brownstone: $100,000/$195,153
A cursory search of craigslist seems to show that 3-bedroom apartments are still in that range (those there are tons up in the $4500-5000 range). But most 2-bedrooms are nearly twice what they used to be. Studios seem to be as low as $1500. Sadly, brownstones (even in the bad neighborhoods) go for a helluva lot more than $200K. Feel the burn!
For a brief time I wrote band previews for the NY Press. Some of the articles appeared largely unretouched, but as time went on, I noticed they were really going through the wringer. Somebody was hacking my tiny blurbs, not to shorten so much as add nonsensical stuff to somehow jazz up my writing. I talked to the shmoe who was doing this and he blamed me for not writing "tight enough." Somehow, adding "Spraying the audience with vomit and cheese" to my write-up of the Ex-Models didn't seem to be tightening anything up, yet he had the final cut. Anyway we were both unceremoniously let go a couple months later.
I was reminded of this heady time in my life today as I read JoshB's latest article in the Press, concerning the reticence of his livery cab driver to take him to my adopted neighborhood of Bushwick Brooklyn. It's a pretty funny read, which I read previously on his own blog. Now, I don't know if his writing is subject to the same dubious knife of editorial re-education, but there are some amusing discrepancies. In describing our house and its occupants' desires, the Press article states
My friends wanted to buy an apartment in Park Slope, sure. Who wouldn’t? Historic brownstones, lush trees, schools without metal detectors. Yet their bank accounts would only let them buy in Bushwick, two minutes from the jackhammer-loud overhead train.
Oh, the indignity of it all! Like I would ever want, of all things, an apartment in Park Slope. I know, none of it matters, it's just filler for the real meat of the story. I just hope it was the work of some anonymous editor and not Mr B Himself. He knows better anyway; we lived for years on the same longitudinal path in Clinton Hill and Crown Heights, respectively (he's still there). Truth be known, I had wanted to buy in Clinton Hill, but even that neighborhood had priced us out long ago, not to mention it is getting progressively full of the kind of reprehensible people I used to think would never cross Flatbush Ave (let alone come into Brooklyn).
But I suppose in terms of dramatic illustration, establishing the dichotomy of The Slope and The 'Shwick makes for a palpably wide spectrum of experience. Still, none of you Slopers better come out here or, you know, we'll beat you with a bat. For an hour!
It's not that I'm sentimental, it's just that I'm terrified
Looks like Sylvie's here to stay. She and Buzz got hitched at the fabulous Brooklyn Municipal Building over the weekend and then had a reception at home. I took a few photos of the ceremony and forgot all about the camera until they got to the cake-cutting (which I also missed, I only got one odd pic of Buzz waving a cake spatula around).
This was the new house's first party, so far it seemed to weather the storm well. Despite the rain, the wedded couple made good on their promise to break a whole bunch of plates in the back yard. Apparently this is some sort of wedding tradition (gimme a wineglass carefully folded into a napkin, thank you). I don't have any photos of this, but I'm pretty sure somebody got some footage, so I'll link to it when it becomes available.
Ironically, our yard has already been the site of a similar celebration: before the party, I had to go out and sweep up a number of glass bottles that had been lobbed onto our property. I wasn't sure where the bottles came from or if our yard specifically was being targeted, but I hoped it was just mindless littering. But after the plate-throwing cacophony ended, just as the last people returned inside, a St. Ides bottle came out of the sky, landing squarely on the patio. I'm almost certain it came from the house next door, probably from the top floor. Now I'm not sure how to fight back, aside from leaving the broken crockery out there as a symbol that we really don't give a damn, but at some point I will want to spend time in that yard, and I don't wanna have to wear a helmet. I'm thinking of getting an air rifle, but perhaps that may just exacerbate the animosity. Wait till they get a load of band practice.
I went on the latest 
When I walk around my neighborhood, it's usually for some purpose like running errands or heading to the train. I don't get a lot of time to stroll around and just look at the place. Since I spend most of my time on Broadway, my view of Bushwick is loud and garbage-strewn, with a lot of shuttered storefronts. While this may be accurate, there's also a lot of charming homes and people hidden in there somewhere. It seems odd to have such a revelation since I've been living here for nearly two years; I realized that my estimation of the neighborhood has been, 
I was a bit disappointed to see only a couple of people I recognized from the 
We saw several sides of the neighborhood, the beautiful churches, the Shell station that used to be 
I had to ditch the tour a little early to go to a band rehearsal, but not before we saw an impeccably-appointed fire house, and spied a pigeon coop on top of a building on the corner of Eldert Street. Adam explained the sport of pigeon flying, in which competitors try to lure other people's pigeons (O.P.P.) into their flock. I knew about the sport after puzzling over the "
Ironically the tour ended up making things seem less exotic to me. Demystifying the neighborhood is a good thing since I feel like I understand a little more clearly how this spot I call home came to be. But knowing the history doesn't change the fact that it's still just a neighborhood, the changes that have occurred since I got here are just another drop in the bucket.
Big Giant Head
Liza Minelli
Gray Instigator
Littleface
And finally, the 
Last time Decatur was around a cat with kittens, she bolted and I didn't see much of her for over a month. I didn't know if this was the same situation or if she was really lost; she had never been out front before, and this weekend had been fraught with stuff to scare both cats and humans. Friday night there was some huge to-do down at the far end of the block; we heard what may have been shotgun blasts and soon the street was full of people, cops, ambulance, fire trucks. Not sure what the story was there but it was a bit unsettling. Saturday night as we were entertaining friends with discussions of how Bushwick is really much nicer than its reputation suggests, some dipshit started shooting a gun right outside our house. I'm still not sure what that one was about, I checked outside afterwards but saw no one in evidence, shooter or shootee (the next day the cops came and placed tiny orange cones next to each bullet casing; the bullets had shot out the rear window of an SUV).
So I thought Decatur might have been so spooked by the commotion that she had gotten herself really lost. Anyway, we kept up the searching and the fretting, I made flyers and posted to lost-pet web sites. But things wrapped up pretty much 20 minutes after I put up the flyers.
Anyway, she's back home and she's being sweet again, so all is well. We have the house on lockdown so nobody's coming in or out for once. We're not sure what to do about the pregnant cat, I'm hoping to relocate her to the backyard, but she seems to be fine with living in the lot across the street. That may be the most ironic aspect of Decatur's sojourn: if she left because she didn't want to share space with the pregnant cat, why then did she move herself to that lot, where the very same cat spends most of her time? This is the logic you get from an animal with a brain the size of a walnut.
Here's something to waste some time during your workday: 
And congratulations to 
