This work of "blobmeister" architecture was built atop the Art Deco edifice of the former Knickerbocker Laundry. The surrounding neighborhood is largely devoted to industry, large-scale retail, and auto sales, as this aerial photo shows, but the church's website paints a somewhat more verdant (and geographically reversed) portrait of the area.
Adjacent to the Korean megachurch, this yard is where lampposts await their time to shine. (You can get a better sense of the place from this aerial photo.)
Growing on that same fence, these still-red blackberries never have a chance to ripen before getting picked by this gloved gentleman, who said he makes some kind of drink out of them.
Pushkar approaches the finish line of the Self-Transcendence 3100 Mile Race.
Pushkar is the fourth runner to complete the race this year, and the crowd is no less enthusiastic than it was when Grahak first crossed the finish line five days ago.
This is how Arpan was freeing his mind from the rigors of the race today.
Ashrita is training for a world's-tallest-pogo-stick record. He has to perform 30 consecutive bounces to qualify.
After 48 consecutive days of running — with every fiber of his being dedicated to this race — Pranjal reached 3100 miles yesterday. Today: photography!
As I passed by this woman's house, I asked her if that was Thai basil growing in her garden. She nodded yes, pantomimed an eating gesture, and pointed at me. I thought she just wanted me to taste it, so I picked off a leaf and popped it in my mouth. Apparently she meant for me to take more than that, though, because she came over to the garden and began pulling off stalk after stalk and shoving them into my hands; I already have a generous bundle here, and you can see she's still going back for more.
It was quite tasty, but I wasn't sure what to do with that much Thai basil. I ended up giving half of it to an Indian guy who called out to me as I walked past his house: "Hey, what's that in your hand?" I told him and offered him some; he smelled it and accepted nonchalantly, as if he regularly acquires surplus produce from strangers strolling by on the sidewalk.
I still had the other half in my hand when I got back to the racecourse at the end of the day, so I gave it to the chefs to use in the runners' meals. I like the idea of them being fed by the same neighborhood that consumes them.
This is the 5,648th time this fence has seen Atmavir pass by — bouncy ball in hand — since the race began back on Father's Day.
This year's cicadas* must be approaching the end of their life span. I've seen several carcasses lying on the sidewalk over the last week or so.
* These are annual cicadas, not the synced-up periodical ones with the mysterious prime-number life cycles.
Damn! Must be a lot of Islanders fans in this neighborhood.
You can't really see it in this photo, but the text on the bottom line of the plaque reads: "This tablet is cast from metal recovered from the U.S.S. Maine".
I suppose this means that this plaque, which sits in Captain Tilly Park, is merely a non-Maine replica of the plaque designed by Charles Keck, of which more than a thousand copies were cast from metal that actually was salvaged from the Maine. (One of those copies can be found on the monument at the southwest corner of Central Park that we saw back in January.)
One can only speculate on the origin of this pond's name.
The Marine Air Terminal at LaGuardia Airport opened in 1940 to accommodate seaplanes (which are represented by the flying fish encircling the top of the building). Among the aircraft that used the terminal in those days were the gigantic Boeing 314 flying boats (pictured here), which were "responsible for the most adventurous and romantic era" in the airport's history, according to a sign inside the building. The terminal is still in use today, though not by seaplanes: Delta Shuttle flights operate out of its six gates (which are actually located in an annex adjacent to the original terminal building).
