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Archive for February, 2009

I often feel like I am trapped inside a New Yorker cartoon waiting for a caption.

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No, I tell you, it’s not just an overpriced grapefruit! And you had better enjoy them now because the citrus season ain’t hanging around 4ever and two months from now you don’t want to be thinkin about that pommelo you forgot to eat back in February.

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Conveniently, there’s a hole in the chainlink fence on the Smith and 9th Street subway platform, so I stuck my hand through and snapped a picture. Uphill, in Park Slope, looks like there’s a party going on.

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The produce doesn’t look too happy, put it’s on par with the winter tomatoes and Japanese eggplant I saw this morning at a NYC Whole Foods, and a fraction of the price.
Brooklyn’s Chinatown is a bustling, well-lit place. Its commercial zone is concentrated in the 50’s and 60’s along Eighth Avenue.

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Next time I’m at 7th Ave. and 65th Street, I’m going to the Americana Diner so I can sit at the scalloped lunch counter, and I’m ordering coffee and a piece of cake. Leatherette swivel chairs make me kinda happy, and the desserts look fresh, though I suspect the Americana’s definition of home baked might [...]

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Snow-capped letters

The other night, as a freezing wind whipped around me and mocked my wool coat, I was feeling an affinity with this sidewalk freezer. Winter is going on much too long. For distraction, I contemplated the snow-capped letters spelling out ICE. I think we would all be happier (year-round) if descriptive fonts like this were [...]

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They are orange-yellow, the size of an Idaho potato, come from Chile, and remind me of a tropical fish. These fruits are also covered all over with sharp spines that demand to be touched. The only other thing I know about them is that they cost $4.99 apiece and won’t be coming home with me. [...]

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This car may be a Pontiac LeMans from the 1970’s, I’m not positive. Nor could I explain why there is a piece of foam under the car’s front tires, or why the fire and police call box is tethered to one-way sign with a few pieces of string. The old-style fire call box is cast [...]

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It’s funny, the things people get sentimental about. There used to be five Con Ed smokestacks in Vinegar Hill; now there are two (I think). They look okay from a distance – not totally unphotogenic, but not necessarily lovable. Vinegar Hill is a small area wedged between the Manhattan Bridge and the Brooklyn Navy Yard. [...]

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The price of dropping a dime on someone has gone up to 25 cents, but with the pay phone next to to the police car, it’s never been easier. Or, you could just turn to the putt-putt car and yell, “Toody, Muldoon, Car 54, where are you!!”
Kiddie rides in the shape of animals, helicopters, and [...]

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