Found: Button

Found this on Montague Street this morning. I'd always heard they show up when you least expect it!

A Day in the Park

Because this city often gets to me, sometimes I have to find reasons to fall back in love with it. So Sunday I packed up my flip video, my camera, a note book and the Times and headed to Central Park for the day. Here's a list of what I found:

2 Native American Rituals

4 Great saxophone Players

1 really amazing jazz band! (you can see from the video I took here.)

1 unusually young street performer
(who by the way, I felt both impressed by and little sorry for)

2 Brides
(who by the way, I felt both impressed by and little sorry for..eh he)

1 Fairy - who gave me some glitter when I put a dollar in her funky little suitcase

Lots of roller bladders, but only 2 who were jumping around and dancing

1 weird looking dragon fly with red wings

2 all black squirrels

1 Lady walking her cat (poor cat)

1 unhappy bubble blower upper: They were some fun big bubbles but the guy making them seemed to hate it

5 people hula-hooping

1 really weird performance artist/singer dancer guy - I've seen him before and he's usually in a loin cloth of sorts. Seems many tourist are really in awe of this guy, but he kinda bugged me.

At the end of my day I also enjoyed some time with one of my favorite attractions to Central Park Summers, and that is the Roller Skaters! It's the most joyous explosion of fun and I stood and watched with a smile on my face for at least an hour. Here's a portion of the video I took.

Another day in Wonderland!

Searching

You know that time when you’ve been in a relationship for two or more years and you look back to when you only knew that person for a year and you think “I can’t believe I thought I knew him back then, I had no idea.” Well, I’ve officially reached this stage in my relationship with New York. I’ve been here for 2 years now and I remember last year, thinking “everything is familiar now”, I had no idea. I imagine 2 years from now, should I still live in the city I’ll say the same thing about how I feel today.

Lately I’m feeling a familiarity with the city that is both comfortable and irritating all at the same time. I no longer have to be the first one across the street to prove that I know how to cross Manhattan roads, I don’t push anyone out of the way when getting on the train (I know I’ll make it), I can find my way around the village and can even recommend a handful of restaurants. The irritating part though is I’ve learned New York has issues with specificity.

You see, while the city seems so convenient to new comers, the corner stores, the gourmet cheese and wine at your finger tips, the ease by which you can pop in and out of the subway on any given weekday afternoon and end up relatively close to your destination; finding something specific you really need, like a husband, a tape measure or say… a button is not a simple task. In any other city you would simply hop in your car and drive to the husband, I mean, button store. You’d walk into a sea of various fasteners, fabrics and what not, and eventually you’d walk out of the store with exactly what you came in for, someone tall dark and handsome – I mean a nice round fastener with a lil flower on it .

Well in the city it’s not so easy. I know this first hand as my Matilda has a fondness for fasteners and has eaten several rather critical buttons in my life.

First you have some decisions to make; do you want a new button? An old button? Maybe an antique? Are you SURE you want a button and not a zipper? or some other type of fastener? There are a great many choices and distractions in this city …you have a plenty buttons to choose from, so you better know exactly what you are looking for before you leave the apartment!

Next you have figure out where all the buttons are. Where exactly IS the button district? (Specific stores in New York tend to congregate). Then you have to figure out what train to take and beyond that, is it across town from where you live? In which case you might want to just forget about it and solve your problem by hiring someone to handle your fastener issues.

See, it becomes an entire strategy, this button finding. Because what if you travel all the way down or up-town and find this particular district doesn’t have the button you’ve been looking for, you could waste your whole life, I mean… day trying to find the right button!

Anyway you get my point, it’s a process trying to do anything you REALLY want to in this city, so in the end it might just be best to go with the flow and take what you can get.

.

Invisible Dogs

While walking down Court Street today in Brookyn Heights I noticed a woman strolling along, carrying a dog leash. On the end of the dog leash was a harness, only the harness was empty - no dog. I'd seen it before at a carnival or something, so it made me smile and wonder a little - but then again I do live in New York so I just continued on my way. A few seconds later though, I noticed another one: right! another person holding a leash for an invisible dog. That's when I realized, something was up (because I'm quick like that).


Turns out there were literally THOUSANDS of them! Thousands of people walking all over Brooklyn with leashes attached to air. The funny thing was noone seemed to break "character." People would pull their dogless leash away from a real dog because apparently the two creatures didn't get a long. Some carried waste bags, stopped by fire hydrants, made sure stores let dogs in etc. It was hilarious.

Thank you Improv Everywhere, well done!

iKarma Juice

I'm no stranger to karma, good or bad, so when it slapped me in the face the other day, I was pretty clear about the message:

When I was a kid I stole a comic book from Ray's grocery store on Steilacoomb Boulevard in Tacoma, Washington. I was probably about 5 years old, and at the time my mother tried to explain to me the bad karma I could endure if I didn't return it (pretty sure it had something to do with going blind). I had no idea what she was talking about (at the time), but I did know that the RIGHT thing to do was to return that comic book and, of course, confess my sin to the proprietor. This was only lesson number one on my karmic trip.

My mother instilled in me the importance of the role karma played out in my life and wasn't shy about pointing it out – frequently. Consequently, there wasn't a hurt, dead or diseased animal that I did not bring home, a kid in my classroom I picked on, or a single item I stole (barring the comic book) in my life...EVER. Which I imagine has played out in my love life a bit, but that's a story for another blog.

So you'll see why, when I got a karmic slap down by a homeless man the other day, I was pretty upset.

See, I was slightly hung over after an evening of debauchery with some close Seattle friends (holla @pamsue @jeffdossett) and really there's no better cure than a Mango-a-go-go with a lil energy boost, so we made our way to the Jamba Juice on 14th St. & 6th Ave. As I walked out of the Jamba Juice, hangover cure in tow, I noticed a man with one hand on his cane and the other, palm up, eager to be filled. I also gathered in a quick second that he was a Veteran. He said something that I couldn't make out indicating that he'd like some dough. I looked him right in the eye, knowing I didn't have a dime on me, and said "sorry sir." (thank you, Maureen my friend who taught me the importance of grace and kindness to all)

At that very moment I dropped my Mango-a-go-go onto the street...UPSIDE-DOWN with no possibility for a five second rule.

The man on the street said "SEE! You see that? You dropped that because you don't help people."

I thought he was joking because that's something I would say, so I laughed.

He replied "You think I'm joking? You don't help people and see what happens?!"

It all happened so fast there wasn't much I could do or say. The street was busy, I had to pick up my cup so as not to litter and navigate through the obstacle course of people on the street. Consequently, I kept walking, but I was very bothered.

I talked with Pamela about it, "Did you hear that? I just got a karma slap down by that homeless man back there! He told me basically that I had bad karma for not helping him."

What?! She said, "You help people?! What? We were JUST talking about starting a non-profit for homeless people, AND I gave a quarter to that lady in front of Jamba Juice."

She was right..I help people. I'm a helper. He's an ass. I just didn't want to help that ass. And serves him right, he's out there because HE didn't help people, it's HIS fault. I'm a helper!

Thing is, my concern about that moment in time didn't stop there, and if it had, it's quite possible my conscious would be clear...but it's not and wasn't. I continued thinking about it and still am. In fact for that entire day, I wondered about my life and what I am doing and why I'm doing it.

The next morning Pamela and I got up and took Matilda for a walk down into DUMBO. We sat in the park, talked and gave Matilda a whole lotta belly rubs. Anyway, upon our return back to my apartment Pamela realized she'd lost her iPhone; likely dropped it in the grass at the park. SO....we went running (literally) back to the park.

As we approached the Promenade, not even 100 steps from my apartment, I got a text:

The guy that found Pamela's iPhone texted me (because I was the last person she called) in an effort to find her and return it.

We were so excited!! YAY! She gets her iPhone back!

On our way to retrieve the phone we speculated as to what we could do for the guy who found it. After several more texts and one voice-to-voice conversation, we met in front of the Peas and Pickles on Washington Street.

As soon as we saw him, his dog and his girlfriend we literally jumped for joy and asked if we could buy them lunch? something? repay them somehow?

No, they said...but, if you find an iPhone, just make sure you find the person who lost it and give it back.

We agreed – pay it forward.

Pamela took a minute in silence (which is why I love her so) to thank them. We both sent them good vibes and as we were walking away Pamela turned to me and said...

"You know what I'm going to do? ... I going to buy you a Jamba Juice!"

Times

It's a little old now but I forgot to thank the NY Times, Cityroom section for this mention, made my day and obviously my month, considering I'm posting it now.

September 4, 2009, 12:34 pm

The Gracious Victim

By Daniel E. Slotnik AND Justin G. Sullivan

What we’re looking at on the Web today …

Sometimes even bicycle thieves deserve a little courtesy, as this photo from Columbia Heights clearly shows. [The Only Livin' Girl in New York via Brooklyn Heights Blog]

Conscientious Victim - Part 2

Looks like the robber took 'em up on the deal:

(day 3 no bike)

Conscientious Victim

When I was younger, I used to loose my wallet a lot. So at one point I put a note in it for who ever found it, explaining that I likely needed the money and ID a lot more than they did (yes I did and believed it would work). So naturally when I saw this bike and note in my neighborhood today, I had to share it with you:

Her Own Medicine

Matilda and I have a great morning routine, she wakes me up with a nudge on my arm at about 8:0am, I turn over, she waits about 5 minutes and nudges me again, this goes on for at least a half hour. She's more like a snooze alarm than a dog first thing in the morning. Anyway, after she's eaten and I've brushed my teeth, we take a long walk from Brooklyn Heights into Dumbo
where I stop off for my coffee (although NOT at Rebar because a: they put 2 shots in every drink and b: they're rude) and we head into the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Once at the park, Matilda scopes out other dogs to growl at while I enjoy a cuppa joe and watch the goofy tourists gawk at the view (it's a pretty spectacular view).

Right now there's a great sculpture art exhibit at the park done by the Brooklyn Waterfront Arts Coalition and this morning I took a moment to give Matilda a little taste of her own medicine - though she was oblivious, I sure did like it.

"Global Gobblers," by Steven Kroeger

Kenny

Meet Kenny.

Kenny came limping (he has bad knees from a few car accidents and a rough childhood) up to me to pet Matilda on our walk the other day. Kenny is a true New Yorker, born and bred in Brooklyn where he spent his youth surfing subways, finding treasures under the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges and learning a thing or two about the streets and gangs of New York.

Kenny loves to recall his childhood stories. He’s showed me all around Brooklyn, telling stories along the way. Recently he introduced me to Vinegar Hill, which was a local hangout for many Mafia guys he knew. Even though he never got involved with the Mafia, his association with them earned him the nickname Mugsy, because he had such a sweet face – and he still does.

Kenny loves animals. When he sees the horses in Central Park pulling the buggies, he can’t really look at them without tearing up a little… “Ya know, animals aren’t meant to be in a city like this, they just don’t belong heah”. At the same time he has trouble with a lot of people – well a lot of “thugs” as he likes to call them… “Ya know because ya can’t trust no one, Tina.” Some of this is probably because of the stories he’s told me about brutal fights he’s been in and witnessed. Times when he got the hell beat out of him from his father and most recently escaped being mugged by two guys when he showed them the hook he carries on his key chain.

Yesterday, Kenny was in the middle of relaying another story about two guys who wanted to beat him up. He’d explained that he’d dragged one of them out into the street and was yelling “F’! YOU! “ to the guy repeatedly. Just as he says these words, his story was interrupted by a phone call from his father or “Pop” as he fondly refers to him. But before he could talk to him, he asked if he could call him back as he had noticed something I hadn’t seen -- a baby bird struggling on the ground near us,. The next thing I knew Kenny was gently picking up the baby bird and said to me… “Ya see this? A cat could've gotten this little guy, he's just learnin' ta fly. I'm going to put him over here where the cats can't get 'em and where his mom can see him so she can feed 'em. We should wait to make sure the mom is comin' back see because he could starve out here.” So we did. We sat for about 10 minutes in the middle of nowhere Brooklyn to make sure the momma bird came back. (the picture above is ACTUALLY Kenny gently holding that bird)

This combination of tough and gentle that exists in Kenny, completely exemplifies this city. Over the past year, I’ve shared with you how New York can appear hard, but be soft underneath… well, that’s Kenny in a nut shell. Until the guys at work found out about it, Kenny had a giant tattoo of a Pegasus unicorn with a rainbow on his back. Since he’s a tough guy, he got it “fixed” after they teased him about it and now his back carries a tattoo of a giant Grim Reaper… even though he still knows what is really underneath.

I love that about New York, you just never know when a tough blue collar New Yorker might come limping up with a great story and a heart of gold.

(Thank you, the FABULOUS Tiffany Pfaff for editing)