Named for a Bronx-born signer of the Declaration of Independence, this was, in its heyday, perhaps the grandest apartment building on the Grand Concourse.
This church, whose community outreach programs included a soup kitchen that fed up to 10,000 people per month, was gutted by a fire in 2010. The flames incinerated part of the verse from Micah (which read "The Lord's voice crieth unto the city") that covered the frieze, revealing the words "Concourse Center". Like many churches in the Bronx, this one was once a synagogue: the Concourse Center of Israel.
Opened on the Grand Concourse in 1929 as one of five preposterously spectacular Wonder Theatres (whose ranks also include the 175th Street Theatre, a.k.a. Reverend Ike's Palace Cathedral) built by Loew's to "take people out of their humdrum existence and bring them into a world of unimagined wealth and luxury", the Paradise was resurrected in (almost) all its former glory as a live entertainment venue back in 2005. It's generally closed to the public unless there's a show going on and you've bought a ticket, but I did get lucky one day when I passed by. They were doing some work inside and left the front door open, so I was able to go wander around the interior, which was an otherworldly experience (scroll down for pictures).
This solar-powered trash compactor can hold about five times more garbage than a standard waste bin, reducing the number of times a garbage truck has come collect its contents. Since it's fully enclosed, it prevents trash from toppling or blowing out, and keeps rats and pigeons from getting inside. (Although, on the other hand, I imagine there are some people too lazy to bother pulling open the door who will just throw their garbage on the street instead.) Some of these devices can wirelessly transmit information about their status to the waste collection agency or company that services them, but I have not heard of this feature being used in NYC.
This mighty forest, one of the city's 51 Forever Wild Nature Preserves, seems to be enjoying the advance of spring. Through the trees, over to the right, you might just be able to make out the wetlands of Rattlesnake Creek.
You can see the former landowners left their mark on the tree, like a reverse Zorro.
is one less hour spent winning trophies.
Unless, of course, you win a trophy for best dojo-fixing-up.
on "Bissel Avenue". That stone wall marks the edge of the 239th Street Yard, and subway trains travel along the top of it on their way into and out of the yard.
These reflective metal gates, railings, and fences are quite common in certain parts of the city. It's not unusual to see multiple houses on a single block adopting this shinier-is-better philosophy of exterior design. I've taken untold photos of the mirrored spheres that I've passed; fortunately, I've exercised some restraint in posting only two so far.
UPDATE: Even though this photo was taken in the Bronx, I shall henceforth refer to this style of ornamentation as "Queens chrome" (as suggested by Jessica W in the comments below) to pay tribute to the borough where it seems to be most beloved.
I respect the way this sign expresses its individuality by boldly deviating from the standard boilerplate, but a close reading of the law (which the city supposedly started enforcing in 2008) reveals that it is not legally binding.
That's the edge of New York City. Right there, where the concrete turns to grass. Beyond that line lie the Mountains of Vernon, home to all manner of fantastical beast, if the hallowed legends of our time are to be believed. For ages, our greatest bards have captivated us with tales of the exotic parking regulations, speed limits, right-turn-on-red laws, and garbage collection schedules that are said to lurk in that land beyond the precipice. And now, after trekking for literally minutes through the farthest reaches of our fair metropolis, I am poised to venture forth into that great unknown; to see, with my own eyes, that fabled realm of myth and mystery. If I can just work up the courage to take those last few steps...
Oh, I see. That's kind of an odd location, isn't it? (Here's what it looks like from the street.)
Just across the line in Mount Vernon, this is one of 56 historic sites in Westchester County deemed marker-worthy by the state.
When it's two streets! The Bronx/Mount Vernon border runs down the middle of this road. The Bronx half (on the right/west) is Mundy Lane and the Mount Vernon half is South 11th Avenue.
The assumption underlying my original declaration of awesomeness was that this postal receptacle was a unique, and quite substantial, celebration of the first letter of the resident family's last name. In the months since I took this photo, however, I have spotted several similar mailboxes around the five boroughs. Apparently, this is a common design that normally cradles a round-bottomed flower planter. Of course, I can't rule out the possibility that these folks actually are a C family, and that they've converted a formerly planterized mailbox into a three-foot-high expression of family pride. While such an act would certainly lie toward the awesome end of the spectrum, I don't think it would be sufficient to raise this mass-produced contraption to the level of official awesomeness.
You can check out this mailbox's replacement in the postal pantheon here.
It seems like every Rite Aid in the Bronx has hired the Royal Kingbee to paint its walls.
Bang your shin on the coffee table? Accidentally touch something hot on the stove? Bite that spot on the inside of your cheek again? Give us a call — we'll sue the bastards!
Fire hydrants were the canvas of choice for many patriotic painters during the Bicentennial, but it appears some dastardly loyalists got their hands on this one.
This sounds like a job for Revocable Consent!
According to a neighbor, this house has been uninhabited since the current owners purchased and gutted it in 1974. They periodically make small "improvements" (like sticking the metal poles in the front yard) to keep it from becoming legally abandoned, but it's been falling further and further into disrepair for close to 40 years now, and has been deemed unfit for human occupancy. People in the neighborhood have offered to buy it, but the owners refuse to sell. The house they actually live in is quite a doozy, apparently, and it sounds like I'll know it when I see it. Stay tuned!
A woman I met in passing swore this car hasn't moved in ten years. There's no alternate-side parking here on Edison Avenue, so I suppose it's possible, although the registration is up to date and the tires are fully inflated. The pavement beneath the car does look a little discolored...
But, sadly, it appears she was wrong. When the Googlemobile passed by in September 2007, this car was nowhere to be seen. It does appear in one undated aerial photo, though not in a second one. And the bird's-eye views are inconclusive. The most likely explanation would seem to be that the owner lives in the adjacent house and regularly parks in this spot because it is convenient and, given the ample street parking in the area, generally available.
Your eyes do not deceive you: one has actually grown up through the traffic cone.
Memorializing an adulterous "slay-plotter" (a phrase used exclusively by the Post, it seems) on this bench in Pelham Bay Park since August 21, 2011
