I'm still walking and still regularly posting photos — I'm just working through a big backlog right now. See below for the latest posts. (The dates on the posts are the dates I took the pictures.) The progress map linked at right is up to date, by the way, even though the photos aren't.
This "fading gem", built in 1908, "stands out with its intricate facade and rose trim, [but] the toll of years of neglect are apparent."
Holy Ghost Upper Room Filling Station is a church/food pantry started by Doris Johnson in her home in 2004. It appears to have recently relocated to the old Faith Tabernacle Church.
Happy (belated) Durga Puja from your friends at Mahamaya Mandir.
On a walk through Jamaica in early 2012, I was surprised to discover that there's something of a Little Portugal (or perhaps a Little Little Portugal) out here. I saw a liquor store specializing in Portuguese wines and, two doors down, a Portuguese restaurant named O Lavrador that's been around since 1981. Now, three years later and seven blocks away, I've finally walked by the other mini-hub of Little Little Portugal: the soccer club pictured above and, just out of frame to the right, another longstanding Portuguese restaurant, A Churrasqueira.
Spotted in Long Island City on my way out to Jamaica
I was riding in a car on Springfield Avenue in Irvington, New Jersey, when I glanced out the window and spotted the ne plus ultra of barberz: XQIZIT KUTZ. For those keeping count, we have, in the space of a mere ten characters: 1) an E-less X, 2) a U-less Q, 3) a Z in place of an S, 4) an excised silent E, 5) a K in place of a C, and 6) another Z in place of an S. Astounding!
Now, you could potentially argue that an I (or two) should have been swapped out for a Y, or that the first T should have been turned into a D, but, come on, XQIZIT KUTZ is too restrained for that kind of nonsense.
Since it's not located in NYC, this xqizit xample of the barbering artz won't make it onto the official list of barberz, but that's just as well. It's clearly in a class of itz own.
The road at right, on which the Toyota SUV is traveling, is Conduit Avenue, named for the conduits that used to carry Brooklyn's drinking water to the Ridgewood Reservoir along the route that the road now follows.
There was apparently once a plan to build an open canal rather than an enclosed conduit to bring the water in from Long Island to the reservoir. It would have been initially cheaper to go with a canal, but those savings would have been outweighed by a number of problems — dead animals tossed into the canal by disgruntled countryfolk, for instance — as pointed out by an 1858 letter to the editor of the NY Times, partially reproduced here:
With such an exposed surface, so wide-mouthed a ditch, continuing so long a distance, the water will be subjected to quantities of filth, partly intentional, partly unintentional. The country people along the line are, from one cause and another, bitterly opposed to the canal, part of the Water Works project, and as it passes through such a frequented part of the island, the thought of what would be cast into it, (dead animals, for instance,) arouses anything but pleasant feelings. Trouble would arise also from quantities of drift sand, leaves, &c.; and, in Winter, (the grade being two-tenths of a foot only to the mile,) the water would freeze, or half-freeze, and the flow would be, at times, altogether impeded. . . .
On all sides, too, it is conceded, that if the canal is adhered to, it will unquestionably have to be changed to a masonry conduit within a short time. That odor of dead cats and decaying dogs will stick to the whole work, and cast ridicule upon it until the change is made.
The odd little building at right, a cylinder with a rotting conical roof (closer look), stands alone on a half-acre of vacant, treed land in the midst of an otherwise pretty heavily developed neighborhood (aerial view). According to city records, the largest three of the four lots that constitute the vacant land have been owned for more than three decades by the same people — Beverly Dietrich and Andrew Lundy — who own the brick house at far left and the funky hexagonal shack (closer look) that stands behind it. (They own the house next door to that one as well. Compare the yards of those two houses to those of their neighbors.) It all makes for a somewhat perplexing sight, accented by a garbage bin stationed on the sidewalk outside the vacant lots, filled with what appears to be mostly household trash, accompanied by a sign that reads:
NYC SANITATION DEPARTMENT
DOES NOT PICK UP HERE
THE PROPERTY OWNER MUST
DISPOSE OF YOUR GARBAGE
PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE
HOUSEHOLD TRASH HERE
THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION