This building was once part of a hub for that now-defunct trolley company.
Along Northern Boulevard, beneath the BQE overpass, are two abutment walls celebrating all that grass has meant to humans over the years. One wall lists various types of grass used by different societies throughout history, while the other (pictured) contains excerpts from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, specifically from the poem Song of Myself, which can be read in its entirety here.
The double-walled paean to grass is maintained by White Castle!
This guy, and his decapitated twin across the street, are subway vents. In fact, it turns out that a couple of the mystery towers I've been photographing (specifically, this one and this one) are also subway vents, rather than natural gas line vents (as I originally thought). The same type of vent can be used in different situations, so it's hard to determine just what is being vented unless you happen to know what is underground at a particular location. For more information, and some hilarious misinformation, let's turn things over to the esteemed Kevin Walsh of Forgotten New York.
Perhaps the city's only wheelchair-accessible step street
The first Curbside Haiku sign I encountered was mounted so high that I had to balance atop a bollard to scan its QR code (which is how you find out what the haiku says). And now this one (the fourth one I've seen) requires you to trample over all those plants to get in close enough to scan it. I've had it up to here with these haikus! I'm going back to limericks.
The short door is not just leaning there — it's actually attached to the wall! There must be something very valuable behind that little metal plate at the bottom.
Part of an awesomely weird wall. There's an even better piece I'll photograph the next time I pass by.
In case you're wondering, this is not a misleading photo: the whole building looks like this.
The handball courts were empty, but the volleyball game was going strong.
Well, to be precise, it's the Sacred Patriarchal and Stavropegial Orthodox Monastery of Saint Irene Chrysovalantou. The interior of the church is breathtaking, although it was too dark for my camera. There are many more beautiful pictures in the multimedia section of the monastery's website.
At Most Precious Blood Roman Catholic Church. Here's a close-up.
Originally known as Astoria Studio, its proximity to the theaters of Broadway made it a major production center in the early days of film — the first two Marx Brothers movies, among others, were shot here — but things died down after Paramount (who owned the studio) moved all their operations to California in 1932. The Army took over the studio in 1942, making training and propaganda films here for almost 30 years. Production activity started to pick up again in the late '70s, and many well-known movies and TV shows have been filmed here in the years since, including Sesame Street!
Housed in a former Astoria Studio building, the museum just re-opened last January after a massive renovation and expansion. Also of interest: your webmaster works here, as the Assistant Curator of Digital Media!
Back in the days of Shea Stadium, this apple would rise out of the hat (then located just beyond the center-field wall) every time a Mets player hit a home run. While a new, larger apple has now taken its place inside Citi Field, the original still maintains a fairly high profile here in the plaza outside the ballpark.
Built as a heliport for the 1964-65 World's Fair, the Terrace now serves as a banquet hall for weddings, bar mitzvahs, proms, and the like.
According to those two stone pillars, this was the Henry Hudson Entrance for the 1939-40 and 1964-65 World's Fairs held here at Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. You can see two observation towers from the New York State Pavilion in the background.
Here's a map from 1965, with the Henry Hudson Gate (as it's called on the map) located near the bottom left corner.
I remember seeing the mini Eiffel Tower on the roof from the highway before and wondering what it was. It turns out it's just one of several little towers decorating this hotel. The place doesn't look too exciting from the outside, but take a peek inside the lobby...
I kept hearing a woman's voice, and then I finally realized that what I had thought was just a fish tank was actually the front desk!
The year after this firehouse was dedicated, Commissioner McElligott abruptly resigned from the FDNY, along with several other department officials, in an attempt to secure more generous pensions than would be provided under a new pension plan that was soon to take effect. In response, Mayor La Guardia named Deputy Commissioner Mustard acting commissioner and instructed him to cancel most of the retirement orders in question. McElligott resumed his duties as commissioner shortly thereafter (although the higher pensions were eventually upheld in court), and so the brief reign of Mustard came to an end after a mere four days or so. And his life came to an end just a few days later, when he died suddenly of a heart attack.
I knew nothing about any of this when I took this picture, however, so when an older woman with a thick Eastern European accent asked me why I was photographing this plaque, I explained to her that I thought Elmer Mustard was a funny name. After a moment's contemplation, her hearty chuckle seemed to indicate that she concurred with my analysis.
Close! It's a shawarma beacon, complete with a spotlight to aid in nighttime navigation.
These rails are remnants of an old LIRR line to my metaphorical birthplace, Rockaway Beach. The rotting wooden plank in the center of the photo is a cover guard for the (formerly) electrified third rail.
A weatherproofed and driveway-friendly version of the famous painting
It's so wordy and awkwardly phrased, but people seem to love it anyway.
These ones are still in operation, though, as part of the Port Washington Branch.
Satchmo lived in a house nearby for the last three decades of his life.
These old trolley tracks have preserved the route of an original colonial highway!
First levantapompis, now levantacolas — Colombians certainly seem to enjoy a perky behind!
Lady Liberty looks a little different than I remember...
I had never given any thought to the origin of "Rego Park", the name of a neighborhood in Queens. Nothing about it grabs your attention; it sounds like it was probably named after some guy who owned a lot of farmland or something.
But no! Rego Park, you see, was developed by the Real Good Construction Company, and its name is actually a shortening of Re(al) Go(od). Fascinating! Sort of.
