Man Who Told Many Secrets Kept His Own
I’ve somehow managed to miss Dan Barry’s stories over the past few weeks, despite the fact that he is one of my favorite New York Times writers. Here’s a great story from today’s paper told in only the way that Dan Barry knows how.
Dan Barry, New York Times
This weekend, Sofie and I headed for the amusingly-named Gowanus Canal. It’s only about 20 minutes walk from our apartment and it makes a nice change from the usual route along nearby Fifth Avenue where we inevitably spend too much money on things we don’t need. We saw this sign on the way to the canal.
When I first arrived in New York I found signs like this extraordinary. My favorite is still the no parking sign that reads “Don’t Even Think About Parking Here.” Not “Don’t Park Here” but don’t even think about it. I love the sheer bluntness of that statement.
Also along the way we came across this amazing building on Third Avenue.
I’ve tried a quick Google serach but “The News” and “Brooklyn Garage” throw up too many results. Does anyone know anything about this building?
Everyone knows about this one, the Williamsburg Savings Bank building (seen from 3rd Avenue) and soon to be eclipsed by a multi-million dollar arena complex. I wonder what the good burghers of Brooklyn said when this was being erected?
Somewhere between 96th and 116, a young man got on the train and sat a few seats down from me. The car was quiet save a few high school girls. Matter of factly, he pulled some paper and weed from his coat pocket and proceeded to roll a number of joints.
The men across the car from me nudged one another, glancing slightly from their newspapers down the aisle. Then, as the train rolled into 116th Street, they quietly stood up, walked over the the corner where the boy sat rolling his goods, ever so slightly flashed their badges and cuffed him on the spot.
Good morning!
Via Callalillie
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Tucked away in the corner of Grand Central Terminal between Eddie’s Shoe Repair and Track 42, a small, brightly-colored recording booth is capturing the memories and emotions of some of the half a million people who pass through the station every day. Modeled after the Works Progress Administration of the 1930s, when oral-history interviews with everyday Americans across the country were recorded, the storybooth is the second of two recording outposts in the city—the other being at the WTC site.
But unlike its Downtown twin, which is primarily recording stories of people affected by the September 11 attacks or of tourists nearby, the Grand Central booth is attracting native New Yorkers with diverse tales from all over the city. These recordings are of stories as rich as the city itself—tales of what it was like to grow up in Morningside Heights during the Depression, a typical housewife’s routine in the Bronx and the joy of food at Coney Island movie houses.
Listen to 91-year-old Harold Slappy regale you with stories of Saturdays at the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, Joseph Robertson tell his son-in-law about the German he killed during the Second World War, or Michael Wolmetz propose to his girlfriend with his late father’s wedding ring. Interested?
Links for today:
Listen to Storycorps.
Look at Storycorps.
Brooklyn, Manhattan, New York, oral history, The Bronx
I have a story in the City section of today’s New York Times about Boris the barber from Uzbekistan.
I met Boris by chance a few months ago when I visited The Art of Shaving for my first and only straight razor shave, and he left such an impression that I knew there had to be a story somewhere. It is truly rare in life to meet someone with such humility and humanity.
I’m still not completely sure what the story is but I think it has something to do with family and with the gentlemanly aura that Boris and his brother Ely radiate.
The above photo from the Times shows Boris (in the background) and Ely doing what they do best. If you want to know more read on.
Links for today:
Broke in Berlin thinks it’s a bad sign when a son inherits the leadership of a country from his father.
Guardian cartoonist: Wit or nitwit?
Barber, New York
She’s a near-perfect female role model for the legions of ambitious twentysomething women currently prowling law firm halls. Watching her deftly soothe irate CEOs and charm even the dourest firm dinosaur, I can only admire her professional skill, financial independence, grace under pressure and intelligence. If I were to continue in this career, she embodies everything I would want to emulate.
But when I actually consider the matter, I can’t think of anything more terrifying than waking up in a decade to find myself wearing her life.
An alternative take on career ambition from the excellent Opinionistas.
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Today it is hot. According to weather.com it is currently 96F but with the humidity it feels like 103F. During countless British summers I used to dream of these
dizzying temperatures. Not any more. My neighbor described it as “like being inside somebody’s mouth.” I’m staying indoors. Like this fella…
Dear beautiful naked girl -
Yes, I know it is HOT now in New York and steamy, too and your landlord probably sucks so your air conditioning doesn’t work and it is hot in your studio apartment and you want to do everything you can to keep cool so you turn on that little fan by the window and try to get some fitful sleep and to keep extra cool you strip off that little white t-shirt and those loose shorts you wear and lie down gloriously naked on your cool bed which is near the window and even though you have the shade dowm some there is that 2 foot gap at the bottom that helps bring air into your apartment but also gives a glorious view to anyone who happens to live across the street from you.
(Classified posted on Craigslist, NYC, August 4.) Read on at your peril.
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