long hiatus. i really wasn't connected to the world so i could not, in good conscience, write about it. taking a swing at getting back to it though.
Monday:
An African fellow singing an African song between bites of cookie and swigs of pink milk, humming as he chewed and swallowed. He swayed side to side and shuffled his feet a bit while he unwrapped a second cookie. Every time a person looked at him he smiled back and sang or hummed a bit louder, almost drowning out the sound of monday rain.
A subway preacher with an accent extolling the virtues of the bible in no specific terms, imploring those of us without iPods to read it based purely on the assertion that it is great. After he overstepped the unwritten rule of the subway (which states that no crazy person, vendor, beggar or self appointed prophet may hawk their wares for more than two stops) the oldest, church-goingest lady on the train interrupted his tirade, yelling "Why don't you shut up with all that?! Don't nobody want to hear that mess on they way to work!" He turned to address the irreproachable old woman but before he could say anything a hooded youth called out, "On the real nigga, you need to shut the fuck up!" Then to a group of women across the aisle, "this mothafucka's just about on my last nerve." A chorus of muffled uh-huh's and mmm-hhmm's confirmed unanimous irritation. Defeated and surrounded by opposition, the young preacher held the bible to his chest, waited silently for the next stop and said, "you must read the bible!" just before stepping through the closing doors with his chin held high. As the train pulled away he could be seen striding down the platform, smiling like hell.
Tuesdy:
Umbrella destruction of every kind. Implosion, explosion, hyperextension, tearing, snapping, catching, and colliding. Then there is my personal favorite where the umbrella floats gracefully away in the wind as if held by an invisible Mary Poppins then is jarringly yanked back to the street by a vicious down-current where the poor umbrella is mercilessly smashed under a gypsy cab or city bus. Yes, that is definitely my favorite.
Showing posts with label brooklyn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brooklyn. Show all posts
30.3.10
10.3.10
wednesday
a cadre of old italians leading even older italians down the street. When they came face to face with a group of jewish folks doing the exact same thing there was a veritable road block, one of the widest avenues in the neighborhood completely strangled by geriatrics.
3.3.10
wednesday
a young man smoking a cigarette with panache, strutting with a limp so hard he seemed to move sideways like a crab. he peered out from under a tweed newsboy cap that matched his jacket, smiling at the ladies and licking his lips between exaggerated puffs. he wore blue polyester pants and the featureless black shoes common to janitors and security guards.
a red haired man wearing a porkpie hat and malcom x glasses eating a cheese pastry like a chimp. as he chewed his mouth went up and down his face in a circle from the end of his chin to the base of his nose. a banana could not have made him more simian.
a red haired man wearing a porkpie hat and malcom x glasses eating a cheese pastry like a chimp. as he chewed his mouth went up and down his face in a circle from the end of his chin to the base of his nose. a banana could not have made him more simian.
1.3.10
monday
a man with a perfectly shaved head wearing a black velvet blazer complete with a dazzling glittery button. he was indignantly smoking a cigarette in front of the sign that read, "no se fumar."
28.2.10
Sunday
a thin girl with corn rows who looked simultaneously hard as nails and beautiful as anything. she wore a purple leather jacket.
a church lady with an amorphous body wrapped in one of those sleeping bag jackets that reaches the ankles. peaking out from the jacket were a pair of fashionless shoes and a kindly face. her perfume was strong and sweet and made me wish like hell that I could be a kid again.
26.2.10
PIcture Repost!
MULLET MAN! I see him around all the time and despite that fact that he has a fashionable disposition begging for open mockery he terrifies me. The drawing is a little Mike Judge but it looks pretty close to the real man. The first post I ever made about him is as follows: oct 1: "A terrifying man with a mullet in a pony tail, gelled top, tapered sweats tucked into no-name sneakers, 40oz and a bagel in hand. He moved fast as hell and I was afraid of making eye contact with such a strange beast."
Then:
oct 3: "The same mullet dude from a couple days ago! A tiny lunatic on a huge bike was ringing the bell on his handlebars, heckling "don't be jealous just because you dont got one of these" (RING RING!). The mullet man replied, "I got a hundred of those" and walked away fast as hell, 40oz in hand."
Most recently:
feb 16: "Mullet man with a fresh cut talking on the phone, leaning on his snow shovel, standing in those terrific shoes, leering at the world."
Picture Repost!
You can see the original post here: that one day. http://iseebrooklyn.blogspot.com/2010/02/wednesday_17.html
It's not as terrifying as the real thing but it's been a while since I posted a pic so I put it up. I think this one may be revisited.
friday
The good men of Brooklyn shoveling the sidewalks with varying scruples. Some dig a hasty shovel-width path. As pedestrians walk past these shovelers pause their shoveling but, irritated by everything that prolongs their exposure, refuse to yield their fresh shovel-width. Some dig big haphazard trails, clearing great uneven swaths of sidewalk yelling to their neighbors or blasting radios as they do it. These are the rosy cheeked fellows (or at least as rosy as their race permits) who look up at everyone, smiling in the flakes and saying things like "How are ya?!" and "Can you believe it?!" and "Look at all this cocksuckin' snow." Some paths are already filling in, having been shoveled and salted from stoop to street first thing in the morning. These paths reek of landlords.
25.2.10
thursday
A man wearing sunglasses on the subway doing magic tricks out of an old lady's shopping cart.
One of those old rich ladies who, in the slushy gap between snow and rain (when one cannot don furs), cannot seem to dress herself. An otherwise fastidiously fashionable woman who piles layers and layers of ill-coordinated and expensive garments on top of on another then finishes it all off with a pair of D&G Wellingtons. Incidentally, she was crying.
One of those old rich ladies who, in the slushy gap between snow and rain (when one cannot don furs), cannot seem to dress herself. An otherwise fastidiously fashionable woman who piles layers and layers of ill-coordinated and expensive garments on top of on another then finishes it all off with a pair of D&G Wellingtons. Incidentally, she was crying.
24.2.10
wednesday
shining in the semi-sun and dripping with rain, a 1970's Mercedes Benz looking like it had never been driven.
20.2.10
19.2.10
friday
a mother and two children with identical pig noses, shark teeth and basketball heads. singularly they might have been ugly, as a group they were perfectly adorable.
the sour faced woman at the bodega who, despite seeing me five or six times a week, has smiled at me only once: when I tried to speak spanish.
the sour faced woman at the bodega who, despite seeing me five or six times a week, has smiled at me only once: when I tried to speak spanish.
18.2.10
17.2.10
wednesday
A lumbering beast of a man with a nose the shape of a deli pickle indiscriminately asking pedestrians for cigarettes. He was so animated and hideous that Jim Henson would have flushed with envy. Despite a concerted effort on his part to be polite, he yelled directly into my face "I"M SORRY TO BOTHER YOU SIR BUT MAY I BUY A CIGARETTE FROM YOU? I HAVE SEVENTY FIVE CENTS!" I had no cigarettes. He offered the next person a dollar.
A pair of clear-eyed twin boys fiddling with something electronic. Their faces mirrored malice and incuriosity.
A pair of clear-eyed twin boys fiddling with something electronic. Their faces mirrored malice and incuriosity.
15.2.10
11.2.10
thursday
A fat man in loafers attempting to reach a gypsy cab. In his path was what amounts to Mount Everest in NYC: the junk laden snow pile between the sidewalk and the street. The place where the snow plows and sidewalk shovelers' refuse collides with one another to form a turgid impassible booby trap. The fat man girlishly scrambled up and down the block (nearly on tip toes) looking for safe passage... finding none. Finally he poked, prodded and stepped out with abandon...
After a moment of wriggling he extracted his leg, revealing the giant underground lake his loafer had just discovered. He looked like he might cry as he scanned the block, searching for another route.
10.2.10
wednesday
old school headphones, the kind with metal arms and foam ears, that nobody wears anymore sitting half-buried in the snow.
8.2.10
monday
the shining bronze camel in the inaccessible park behind the fenced-in asphalt square regarded by ten eyck elementary school as a playground.
above the playground, behind many layers of barbed wire, a hooded man pissed on the roof of a warehouse.
3.2.10
wednesday
the silhouette of a plane floating behind the clouds. in front of it, the pigeons that threaten to shit on passersby flew in a menacing cirle.
2.2.10
tuesday
Two dozen little hasidic boys piling out of what I always thought was an abandoned building. They all wore white paper aprons and hair nets, the sides of which the boys let their curls stick ou. The three smiling women corralling them onto the bus tried to keep their aprons straight in the wind.
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