Going, going, gone!

Our apt as was...


Then the movers came...


Then the movers left!

Farewell to the best damn neighborhood in the world.

This week we move out of our little corner of Brooklyn.
It's been five fantastic years!


Mazolla bakery. The best bakery cum bus stop in the world. For five years I stood beneath your awning in the wind and rain watching cops buy donuts. I loved your ham and cheese croissant, that probably contributed to my waist creeping up to 38 inches.


Our cross street for the last five years, Henry and Sackett.


The distinctly odd 'Vermont Grocery' across the street. If anything sang out 'Mob front' it was you. Adieu.


The Italian gentleman's club across the street. I danced like a drunken fool on the sidewalk outside the night Norwich won the league in 2004. One of your elderly members accosted me and became a friend through footy. Your members are deadly serious about satnding about with cigars and gesticulating.


No more alternate side parking!


Sadly, no more Nino's pizza. Your delivery boys have seen far more of my life than I would like to admit. Your pepperoni with green peppers and olives is an utter joy.

The last few days

I've just got through the last few days of my five years stint at what is now my 'old' school.
It's never easy leaving a place and this was no exception, in fact at times it was quite difficult.
The following are random thoughts and observations in no particular order of significance.

#1 Everyone has been so nice, are they pleased to see me off?

#2 There seems to be a strange band of coworkers who seem to react to things so strongly? "Oh Mondale, we'll miss you, this place will never be the same".... hey, you can never step into the same river twice but come on, I spoke to you four times in five years, you don't even know my first name, snap out if it.

#3 I have made some dear, dear friends at this school. I will certainly miss them, but I will be a visiting from time to time. Funnily enough I barely saw most of them today, just the way it goes.

#4 Mactechwitch threw a delightful afternoon thing in her gorgeous backyard on Monday night. The weather was warm and calm, the loveliest people attended and we drank, ate and gossiped. It was the highlight of my send off, we did miss a few but glasses were raised in their absence. Thank you Mactech.

#5 Please don't come and visit us in England. Lunches in London by appointment, yes. Weeklong sailing trips on the Norfolk Broads, no. There are exceptions to this rule, you know who you are.

#6 I missed Listmaker this week as he was at a conference. In a funny kind of way I'm sort of glad. He and I have some time arranged before I depart which will be tremendous fun. It sort of distinguishes him from the end of the year school stuff, a bit like Chris Patten after the 1992 election. I like that.

#7 I don't think I bought a meal or a drink all week (alright already, I know it's only Wednesday!) I did enjoy the social breakfasts and lunches in burger joints and diners. Thank you to those responsible.

#8 I do apologise for leaving quietly at the end of the whole school lunch today. I had to get across a crowded gym and was not feeling good about the departure. I decided to do the 'Aboriginie bugger off' (just walk away in a straight line and don't look back). I did make a point of giving Thelma a massive hug, In my own way I was hugging the school goodbye. Then I just split.

#9 Funnily enough as I was escaping I got caught by the very last person I would have wished to get caught and cornered by. I mumbled something about 'having to go' and she made a promise to visit in the fall (see #5) she then started telling me something about cellphones.

#10 I'll never ride the B71 bus again.

DUMBO

Didn't I say that Spring in New York would be freakin gorgeous?
It's doing all it can to make us stay

Conversations in a deli.

I live in the heart of a fiercely Italian American neigborhood. Perhaps the last great blue collar Italian neighborhood this close to Manhattan. Every day you see the old guys hanging out on the stoops with their cigars and their hand gestures.

Last night I pop into the deli to buy some milk and beer. As ususal I have a quick chat with the deli guy who just happens to be a Chelsea fan. It goes a little like this.

Deli Guy " So you gonna be a Chelsea fan on Saturday?"

He's referring to this weekend's FA Cup Final between Chelsea and Man Utd.
This game has little interest for me, I'll dvr it and watch it Sunday night. Cockney billionaires versus Northern scum billionaires. I spose I'll support Chelsea then.

Me " Yeah, I guess. You guys put us out this year so that counts for something and you know I hate Man Utd, unless they're playing Italians or something".

I'm referring to Utd's recent defeat in the Champions league semis against Milan. Almost all Englishemen will support Utd against a foreign foe.

At this a point cigar chewing lottery guy picks up his ears and joins in our conversation.

CCLG "And what the fuck is wrong with Italians? What you got against Italians?"

Guess you had to be there.

Sunday, Sunday.

The 'block'.

Excellent next door neighbor grilling up on the fire escape.

It's been one of those brilliantly half arsed weekends.
The type of weekend where instead of taking 10 minutes to empty the dishwasher you place dirty dishes in the sink, remove clean items from the dishwasher as you need them and just work around the problem rather than make any attempt at finding a solution.
I sense this may be spring fever. This may also be the moving disease, the 'why bother with the here and now' mentality. We leave Brooklyn in less than two months, we leave the USA in under three. It's really beginning to sink in that we will be leaving.Our apartment has been leased to two bright young things who popped round on Saturday morning. The excitement reached the next stage last week when we actually booked our flight and London car hire for the journey back to Norfolk.
And didn't I tell you the weather would be delightful?

Up on the roof.

Trawling throught the archives I discovered some shots from last summer.

Liberty in the evening. Taken from the roof at 7th Ave and 15th St in Park Slope.
Midtown Manhattan (with Downtown Brooklyn in the foreground). 7th ave/15th st.
My beloved Williamsburg bank building. Listmaker and I used to have a dentist on the 20th floor overlooking the harbor. The best view from a dentist's chair anywhere in the world. Again, 7th/15th
Ooh? crazy effects of Manhattan at night! 7th/15th.

My street.

Once the home of the mafia, now a strict observer of alternate side parking regulations.

The beginning of the end.

And so, as spring comes in with a whimper or whatever it is folk say, we begin our slow descent into London, Heathrow, England, Norfolk. Rural strangeness, financial obscurity, solid breakfasts and mud.

A few pointers have recently pointed towards the reality of our move.

We are seeking a home for our elderly and misanthropic cat. We would love to take her with us but it's just not practical. We would spend $$$$ to get her injected and certified and more $$$$ for a place in the plane knowing that for all intents and purposes she could die in a week. She could also live for another 5 years. Bloody cats, there's just no knowing. And before you all kick me over this one, we are all about being romantic and allowing her to live out her remaining days in the beautiful Norfolk countryside but it's cruel and simple math. She comes with us or we buy a dishwasher and a new fridge at the other end.



We have also just cancelled two long standing and much appreciated subscriptions.

Our weekend delivery of the New York Times. Since Henry was born we have simply moved the paper from 'gonna read' pile next to the sofa to'recycle' pile by the door. Neither of us has had the time or inclination to do anything more than glance at the magazine section over a bowl of cereal. Don't worry New York Times. We'll buy you when we need you on an Ad Hoc basis fom now on.



As well as the Times we have had to say adieu to our old friend Netflix. It's been a wonderful ride since a hip cousin gave us a month's subscription for a Christmas gift a few years ago when it was all shiny and new. He let the month lapse on his credit card and I had to meet him for lunch with a check for the rest of the year. That was in August. We've loved the endless episodes of The West Wing and Frau random Doubt particularly enjoyed watching every episode of Upstairs Downstairs. It was also a useful way of catching up with some of the wierdness that is Listmaker's annual movie list. Today it's the same problem as the Times. The discs have sat there since Henry was born and we watch very little TV beyond The Daily Show and a few assorted dvr'd treats. We haven't been able to settle down and watch a movie or devote ourselves to something whilst also allowing for inconsistent fatigue and Lil'un's demands. I watched a movie on the plane last week and had kinda forgotten what to do.

It's not all bad, we have become whizzes at dvr'ing lots of shows and have got into some pretty good stuff through that.



I should add that I find the value of an organisation in the ease of leaving it. When calling or emailing both the New York Times and Netflix I was met with brevity and understanding. No harrassing me with special offers (although Netflix did ask me if I was going over to Blockbuster and I'm not and I don't mind them asking). As a result of their very grown up approach I would heartily recommend either to anyone.

Gawd bless 'em

I didn't want to write about this before the event, for fear of it not happening and/or there being a nice fine.

But goddammit those heroes of the streets the DSNY only went and took away the rotten carcass of our old sofa. I know, it's their job but it still delights me to see such a dirty job done so well. I know there will be as many of you out there with a nightmare story to tell but I just want to say, right here , right now I love those guys.

I grew up in a town where getting rid of old/broken furniture meant borrowing Dave's van and a saturday afternoon at the 'tip'. In Brooklyn you just dump the crap on the sidewalk. Marvellous!

Gowanus

I took the opportunity to walk to work this morning. The Gowanus canal in all it's glory at 7.45 am

Only in New York.

(Or possibly anywhere else).
I wanted a new pair of Levi's. I'm not a clotheshorse, I know what I want and I know where to get it. I can be in and out within minutes and not many minutes at that.
I went to the place where I have bought Levi's before and managed to evade the facile floorwalkers until I got to the bit of the store that had exactly what I wanted right in front of me.

"hicanihelpyou?"

"I'm fine thanks, I just need a pair of those".

"NowayareyousizeXyou'rewaytooskinny".

"No, that's the size I always get, that's what I'm wearing now".

"Naaah,you'renotfat,you'reskinnyman".

"I know it looks like that but I'm really tall, It just looks that way".

Outmanouvered, she changed tack.

"Whatareyoureading?"

"It's about Bill Clinton".

"whadyawannareadabouthimforhe'sboringashell".

At this point I was able to walk away.

Just another dose of minutae.

Joe's nyc

It's taken a year for me to finally link.
Amazing pictures.
Fantastic eye candy.