I believe the last election for which ballots would have been cast here at PS 5 was this doozy back in late March.
Unlike its Franklin Avenue counterpart, this painting contains (an approximation of) a full-on infinite regress.
They don't quite compare to wild blackberries, but I'll take what I can get.
Like our friend Rubel, Mr. Dietz dealt in coal and ice. He's featured in this history of the neighborhood's ice industry, a wonderful window on the days when the ice man still made his rounds.
I thought today was finally going to be my day, but this kid just horsed around for a while without ever inserting a quarter.
Each year, during the lead-up to the massive Puerto Rican Day Parade on Fifth Avenue, Tony sets up a little store outside his house here in Bushwick. Miles from the parade route, he sells flags, t-shirts, and other memorabilia (there was much more stuff on display to the right of this photo) to neighbors and passersby.
That was the greeting I received from Mr. Williams as I passed by his house here in Bed-Stuy. I asked him how he knew I was a knucklehead. His reply: "Because I am the Son of God." By the end of our subsequent conversation — of which I remember very little; I suppose that's what happens when you're in the presence of the SoG — "knucklehead" had become a fond term of endearment, and Mr. Williams insisted we perform a thug hug ("like they do in prison") before I departed.
Wandering the streets, playing Bob Marley tunes (among others)
Mounted to a plywood wall on a dead-end street about half a block from the notorious Gowanus Canal, this painting has seen better days.
Despite its reputation, the Gowanus Canal hosts a fair number of recreational boaters, most notably the Gowanus Dredgers, who refer to the waterway as "Brooklyn's coolest SuperFUNd site".
This is the so-called "wondrous blue bridge" we saw a few days ago. What's so wondrous about it, you ask? It's the city's other retractile bridge (link includes a diagram explaining how retractiles work), and the oldest such bridge still in existence in the US, having been opened in 1889. In addition, there are a couple other adorable features: the roadway surface (made of wooden planks), and the delightful sign posted above the bridge (playfully installed during a late-1980s rehabilitation): "Any Person Driving over this Bridge Faster than a Walk will be Subject to a Penalty of Five Dollars For Each Offence".
This system allows the Carroll Street Bridge (which operates just like the Borden Avenue Bridge) to slide open.
The eye-catching hue of Park Slope's famous not-so-brownstone may not be long for this world.
UPDATE (Dec. 3, 2012): The pink is gone!
Congregation Beth Elohim, where Sukkot is celebrated in high style
You'll probably have better luck with a larger version of this photo.
Hint: You can only see its head.
With the possible exception of "mafia behavior", the parasitic cowbird has no particular connection to the neighborhood of Maspeth, as far as I know; this little wedge of parkland was playfully named (by Henry Stern, of course) after two avenues adjacent to the triangle: Borden (namesake of the milk company) and Jay — hence the "cow" and the "bird".
but that don't mean it'll stick (scroll to the third photo).
But not the only one I saw today
The net is supposed to keep birds and other critters from snarfing all the fruit.
The Bronx approach to the Throgs Neck Bridge is graced by this sign that looks straight out of some crummy subdivision. The neighborhood of Throggs Neck is often spelled with two g's, especially by old-timers, but government agencies generally prefer the streamlined, single-g version for use on street signs and the like. So if you take a trip out to the Neck and don't want to seem like an outsider, make sure you pronounce your Throggs with that extra g.
This is Hammonds Cove Marina, and that's the Throgs Neck Bridge off in the distance. As noted in Chicago, marinas are fertile ground for bad puns. Today's best boat name: the Nauty Lady.
