The View From Argyle Heights:

Attack of the Bed & Breakfasts

by Homeowner Harry (Another in a series of observations about life in West Midwood as it is lived today…or maybe not)

There are now 11 Bed & Breakfasts in Victorian Flatbush and eight of them are in West Midwood (see list). I like to think that’s due to the refreshing winds that blow aloft up here in Argyle Heights, since we are a staggering 38 feet above sea level. But it might also have to do with how delightful it is in our neck of the woods, and the entrepreneurial spirit of our citizens. After all, West Midwoodians are descended from a hearty stock, many of whom wandered down the passes of Prospect Park looking for a better life and detached garages.

But B&B’s are a fairly recent phenomenon in our Flatbush environs. They started to spring up almost at the same time that hotels spread from Downtown into Brownstone Brooklyn and now there are at least seven chain hotels stretching from the Brooklyn Bridge to the South Slope. However, for the traveler on a budget, or those visiting family nearby, or those who prefer the peace and quiet and warmth of a friendly host, the B&Bs fill an important gap. For instance, my brother-in-law visits his daughter and three grandchildren on Argyle Road quite often and to avoid being underfoot, especially when it’s time to wash the dishes, or to grab some extra sleep after a long drive, what could be more convenient than renting a room for two nights around the corner?

Well enough about my theories. Let’s hear what the innkeepers have to say. I asked each of them to share with us their experiences but as usual I waited until the last second to reach out and just when I thought I’d identified the absolute last B&B out there, another entity would rise up from some far flung corner of the Web as if to mock my crumby due diligence. Still I managed to convince a majority of these gallant souls to trust that I would not turn this article into a reminiscence about my favorite breakfasts over the years, although to be honest, that was basically my first draft, which Laura Givner gently rejected with the suggestion: “More people, less biscuits.” 

Let’s start with Susan Lehrer, who opened her Dekoven Suites back in 2002 to stave off the financial doom of two steep college tuitions. Many of her colleagues upon first contemplating taking the leap themselves (prompted by empty nests or crushing mortgages), cited Susan’s enthusiasm, innovation, and willingness to help as a major factor in following her into B&B Land.

Opening a B&B takes a lot of effort. There is a ton of insurance required, a steep 14.75% tax and other fees are collected by THE MAN, and the work is ceaseless, since those continental breakfasts and fresh sheets just don’t appear magically each morning. By the way, just to work in one breakfast tidbit, Jorin and Alexandra Reddish, who just opened The Isabella on Rugby Road, pointed out to me why continental breakfasts (combos of cereal/pastry/fruit/bread/coffee/ juices) are the staple of B&Bs: the insurance will not permit cooking meals for guests. So that explains why you’ll never find any omelet addicts wandering our streets.

And as for the legality of turning one’s house into a B&B, THE MAN appears to have taken a very sensible stance: as long as it’s not a multiple dwelling, coop or condo, and the establishment does not create a nuisance (e.g., by booking members of the Tea Party and the Socialist Workers’ Party in adjoining rooms), maintains proper insurance and ponies up the taxes and fees, then there is no issue. Susan cited Carolyn Greer with the Brooklyn Tourism office at Borough Hall as a big supporter – she even brings a group of European tour operators through our neighborhoods each year under the theory that seeing is believing. Indeed, looking at the houses that serve as B&Bs in these parts, it would be hard to find better maintained properties – picture post-cards, one and all. Add to that the wonderful hospitality and warm personalities of the hosts, and frankly, considering the far-flung ports of call for the visitors they serve, these B&Bs probably do more to promote Brooklyn tourism than any Madison Avenue campaign ever could (although Don Draper in his prime might have nailed it).

Western Europe appears to contribute the most foreign bookings -- UK, Scotland, The Isle of Man, Ireland, Germany, France, Italy, Iceland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Holland were all mentioned (by the way, Bibi and Harry Kisoensing of Bibi’s Garden speak Dutch) -- but visitors from China, Russia, Japan, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Mexico, Israel and Yemen were also cited as contributing to our local economy, as many innkeepers mentioned the boost local businesses receive from their guests, particularly the many new eateries along our commercial strips. 

And as for why all these out-of-towners are here gobbling croissants each morning, Rob Seidel of The Loralei estimates about a third of his guests are visiting family members, and Trudy Steinfeld at The Blue Porch points out that those relatives reside not only in West Midwood, Ditmas Park, Beverly Square West, Fiske Terrace, and Kensington, but in areas farther north, like Park Slope, Williamsburg, and Fort Green. Others are here on business that can range from promoting a book, as one recent guest from Nashville told   Sue Fishkin and Michael Hurwitz at Rugby Gardens, to researching a novel set in 1970’s Brooklyn after checking in to Donna Zaengle’s Emilia’s Retreat. While the rich and famous apparently still prefer the Hamptons and the Waldorf Astoria, Victorian Flatbush attracts more of the creative crowd. Rob Seidel hosted the editor of a leading rock music Internet zine; Susan Lehrer welcomed the first trombonist with the Melbourne Philharmonic; Jorin Reddish recently had a record producer from Germany; and Trudy and Paul Steinfeld have booked journalists, computer scientists, medical professionals, and even one rocket scientist.

Some of the odder reasons for overnight stays included a Manhattanite who told Sue Fishkin he was going to interview for an important job the next day and absolutely, positively had to have a quiet place for the night to settle his nerves! The most improbable guests were three sailors from Amsterdam who planned to pilot their flat bottom boat around New York Harbor in June 2009 to commemorate Henry Hudson’s discovery 400 years earlier. Arriving at JFK without reservations, they piled into a cab and asked the driver to take them to a hotel, whereupon they found themselves staring at some dump in the Bronx. To the rescue came a little thing called the Internet, where the sailors found Emilia’s Retreat. Susan Lehrer organized an effort by the local B&Bs a few years back to get themselves listed in one place and www.victorianbb.net was the result. They can also be found, along with other newcomers on www.bedandbreakfast.com. Perusing these sites and the individual web pages each of the B&Bs have created or simply Googling their names brings up links to a lot of fantastic reviews on TripAdvisor.com and other travel boards.

Anyway, when their craft was late in arriving from Holland, the sailors stayed an extra two weeks thanks to Dekoven Suites squeezing them in, demonstrating another important feature of these businesses: they are able to cross-refer to other nearby B&Bs when they are booked up. The guests from Holland, led by an intrepid gal named Ingrid, were so grateful for West Midwood’s hospitality that they took their hosts on what Donna calls “the most amazing sunset sail around the harbor”. Ingrid has since returned to Dekoven Court, sans boat, with family in tow and photos of subsequent journeys by the Dutch adventurers show up regularly in the mailbox of Emilia’s Retreat.

Asked to recount favorite memories, it was apparent these entrepreneurs are all well-matched to be in a people business. Susan Lehrer recalled how the Christmas Blizzard of 2010 enthralled a French family who had never seen snow before. Susan outfitted the kids with snow gear and lo and behold, they all returned in the Spring for a second vacation in West Midwood. What Rob Seidel and Lance Tukell cited as most rewarding was “being part of people's important events and experiences – from weddings to funerals to births.” Sue Fishkin and Michael Hurwitz put it this way: “Our guests all leave an imprint of one kind or another and you have to open your arms and embrace all of them.”

The Coney Island Cyclones (both the roller coaster and baseball variety), Shakespeare in the Park, Fashion Week, 4th of July Fireworks in the Brooklyn Bridge Park – these are among the many New York experiences to which our innkeepers have introduced their 

out-of-towners. But to really crystallize the difference between a stay at the Brooklyn Marriott and a Victorian B&B, consider that when guests from England wanted to know what a typical American Thanksgiving Dinner was like, they were welcomed by three generations of  Zaengles, 30 strong, for their 39^th consecutive observance. And finally, Donna recently took a 9 year old German girl trick or treating for the first time in her life down Glenwood Road. Nothing like starting at the pinnacle of the Halloween experience – the West Midwood Parade.

West Midwood Bed & Breakfasts:

The Loralei B & B
667 Argyle Road, Brooklyn NY 11230

Hosts: Robert Seidel and Lance Tukell

http://www.loraleinyc.com/

Emilia's Retreat 31 DeKoven Court, Brooklyn NY 11230 Host: Donna Zaengle http://www.emiliasretreat.com/
Dekoven Suites 30 Dekoven Court, Brooklyn NY 11230
Host: Susan Lehrer

http://www.dekovensuites.com/

The Blue Porch Bed & Breakfast 15 Dekoven Court, Brooklyn NY 11230
Host: Trudy Raschkind Steinfeld

http://www.blueporchnyc.com/

Bibi’s Garden Bed & Breakfast 762 Westminster Road, Brooklyn NY 11230
Hosts: Bibi and Harry Kisoensing

http://www.bibisgarden.net/

Honey's Bed & Breakfast
770 Westminster Road, Brooklyn NY 11230
Hosts: Laura & Carlos Berger                                        

http://www.honeysbedandbreakfast.com

Eve's B&B New York 751 Westminster Road, Brooklyn NY 11230  Host: Eva Isman http://evesplacebnb.com/

The Griffin B & B 

32 Dekoven Court, Brooklyn NY 11230

Hosts: Joseph Berk and Jeannine Umrigar

http://thegriffinbandb.com/

 

Ditmas Park Bed & Breakfasts:

Rugby Gardens

317 Rugby Road, Brooklyn NY 11226

Hosts: Sue Fishkin & Michael Hurwitz

http://rugbygardens.googlepages.com/   

The Isabella At Ditmas Park B & B                                                                                                 

557 Rugby Road, Brooklyn NY 11230                                                                              

Hosts: Jorin and Alexandra Reddish

http://theisabellaatditmaspark.com/

Handfinger's Hide-Away
522 Rugby Rd, Brooklyn NY 11226
Host: Merrie Handfinger

http://www.bedandbreakfast.com/ny-brooklyn-handfingershideaway.html

We Got Letters – Stacks and Stacks of Letters

THE VIEW FROM ARGYLE HEIGHTS by Homeowner Harry (Another in a series of observations about life in West Midwood as it is lived today…or maybe not)

At the end of my piece for the Summer issue of the Newsletter on the writers of West Midwood (“Reading & Writing & Even Some Arithmetic”), I urged anyone who I had unintentionally excluded to write me – bur reiterated that my criterion was a published book listed on Amazon. What follows are the missives I have received via e-mail or postings on http://argyleheights.blogspot.com.  In order to encourage a free exchange, I have protected the identity of those who wished to maintain their anonymity, which was almost everybody.  Since the dates didn’t matter, I deleted them for readability.

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:     xxcvbrty@aol.com

Subject:  Newsletter

Sir, I read your piece with some interest in as much as I also have a book that was published which you somehow managed to miss.  In it I present a reasoned approach to our economic difficulties and attempt to engage our more fiscally conservative neighbors in a constructive dialogue. It is called Mr. T’s Party: Eat Death & Die!  Thank you in advance for your consideration and the $49.99 you will undoubtedly want to remit for the electronic copy of my book I have attached.  Yours, Xxcvbrty

To:      xxcvbrty@aol.com

From:  Joe@Enright.com

Re:      Newsletter

Dear Xxcvbrty, I checked on Amazon.com and your self-published book was not listed.  Which is the same reason I couldn’t include my own book, Flying Saucers and Credit Default Swaps: The Alien Plot to Buy Our Debt, which has sadly still not found a publisher.  By the way, I started to read your book and was somewhat mystified by your insistence that Mr. T of the “A-Team” inspired the movement.   In fact, it is spelled “Tea” Party, not “T Party”.  Otherwise, I found your theory that the “A-Team” TV series somehow caused our economic crisis somewhat difficult to follow, particularly the part about Mr. T’s haircut.

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:     xxcvbrty@aol.com

Re:          Newsletter

You can eat death & die too!

The next response I received was from a neighbor who had ordered one of the books discussed in the article but had yet to receive it:

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:     vvdwcsuw@hotmail.com

Subject:  Where’s My Book?

Look, I’m a patient person.  But it’s been a month and I’ve yet to receive Flying

Saucers and Credit Default Swaps: The Alien Plot to Buy Our Debt so I think you owe me a refund. Just stuff it in my mailbox – not my e-mail mailbox but my real Mailbox… Er, you know what I mean.  By the way are you related to that Irish writer, Anne Enright?  She looks a little like you.

Well, after a little back-and-forth, I managed to straighten this neighbor out who had somehow ordered my unpublished manuscript from Amazon, which now has a new shopping category that can be found at www.amazon.com/Upcoming-Books-That-Might-Get-Published-If -the-Writer-Finishes-It-&-Finds-A-Publisher.htm  Amazon calls this section “Book Futures”. Interesting.  And by the way, Anne Enright, author of the fabulously successful novel, The Gathering, is from Dublin, whereas my parents were from Kerry and Limerick.  But that didn’t stop me from mailing her a request for money, claiming to be a long-lost desperate relative.  I did the same thing with the Arizona Diamondbacks rookie pitcher, Barry Enright, figuring he’d be earning millions in no time, being a major league pitcher and all.  But these gambits sort of back-fired.  Anne Enright invested her royalties in credit default swaps on book futures just before the market tanked and Barry Enright was sent down to the minor leagues in May after letting up five thousand runs in two games.  Now they’re both asking me for money on account of my blog being so successful and all. Man.

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:      pharmacy-in-canada-somewhere@gmail.gov

Subject:  You Need Drugs!

The drugs you didn’t order are here!  Just use PayPal to send us large sums of

money.  Also, with respect to the Argyle Heights blog, I notice you have posted

at http://argyleheights.blogspot.com/2007/06/media-adventure-sort-of.html

that New York City hurricane map which shows the flood waters stopping at

Rugby and Glenwood. Could you expand that to include Canada?  Thanks.

Well this e-mail had nothing to do with books except that West Midwood did suffer a couple of fallen trees from Hurricane Irene and books ultimately are made from trees. Hopefully, the Category 3 storm that would sweep waters down Foster Avenue from Jamaica Bay all the way to Rugby Road will always remain only the hypothetical subject matter of Weather Channel disaster porn. 

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:      random-insulting-guy@yahoo.com

Subject:  Blogs Are So Retro!

Just in case you didn’t get the memo, Blogs are dead, moron.  If you can’t say

it in a 130 character tweet, like forget about it.

To:          random-insulting-guy@yahoo.com

From:      Joe@Enright.com

Re:           Re: Blogs Are So Retro!

I was impressed by this e-mail because you took 130 characters to insult me

when you could have used many, many more.  Maybe you’re addicted to tweeting

and can’t express thoughts that would take longer than 130 characters? If so, there is hope at www.un-tweet-my-addiction.com.  I understand it’s a 130 step program though, so hang tough.

To:          Joe@Enright.com

From:      random-insulting-guy@yahoo.com

Re:           Re: Blogs Are So Retro!

Eat death & die!

Summer Reading

The View From Argyle Heights: Reading & Writing & Even Some Arithmetic
by Homeowner Harry (Another in a series of observations about life in West Midwood as it is lived today…or maybe not)

May 13, 2011...The beach and vacations beckon! So it’s time to think about what books we want to take with us. Or in my case, which books I will stuff in my suitcase intending to devour … only to experience the guilt and shame two weeks later as I re-pack them, untouched, for the return trip home, having read nothing longer than a Mets box score.

As I pondered the question of what I should pretend to read this Summer, it occurred to me that we have a number of published writers in our neighborhood and maybe I should seek out their guidance. Then, as it turned out, there were so many, I had to narrow it down to just those inhabitants of our leafy glen with a published book available on Amazon. That bottom line qualification ruled out many with journal articles, blogs and other writing credits. Sadly, it also eliminated me, since my seminal work, Flying Saucers & Credit Default Swaps: The Alien Plot To Buy Our Debt, had to be serialized on www.ufos-and-your-finances.com when space aliens threatened my editor.

Anyway, there are five among us with published books and what a diverse group it is!

Al & Mary Nofi At Omaha Beach, Normandy

ALBERT NOFI, a West Midwoodian for 35 years, has written more than 30 books. Yes, that was three-zero my friends, and not a typo. Amazing? Face it, most of us can’t even name 30 books. Al and his wife, Mary Spencer, were attracted by Westminster Road’s leafy cocoon and diversity in the mid-1970’s, when the Nofi family escaped the urban jungles of West 96th Street while Al was still a teacher in the City’s schools. Al retired as an Assistant Principal and for the past two decades has built an incredible second career as a military historian and analyst. He started out as a war-games designer and then a defense strategist, working with some of the most brilliant tacticians in the country, at the Center for Naval Analyses in Alexandria, Virginia, and then at the Chief of Naval Operations Strategic Studies Group, in Newport, Rhode Island. Somehow he also found time to secure a PhD in military history along the way. People, if we ever declare war on Fiske Terrace, I think Dr. Nofi should be calling the shots. 


Al’s latest book, chronicling the U.S. Navy’s strategic thinking in the run-up to World War II, To Train The Fleet For War, was recognized by the U.S. Navy League as one of the best books of the year on naval history. Al has also published books on the Civil War, the Marine Corps and the Spanish-American War. One of his best-received works was on the founding fathers of Texas, The Alamo and the Texas War for Independence, published in 1992. Later that year, Al and Mary lost their daughter Marilyn in a hit and run automobile accident at the age of 24. Marilyn, who had once worked as an editor at Simon & Schuster, is buried in the historic Seminole Indian Scout Cemetery in south-central Texas. Nowadays, the Nofi’s spend most of the year in Austin, Texas, near Mary’s family. Al’s reading habits are of course geared toward military history and as a board member of the New York Military Affairs Symposium, he edits its Newsletter. Al's reading list is heavy on military and ancient history, much of which can be found at http://nymas.org/, a great web site if you're a history buff like me, containing oodles of free podcasts, including Al's marvelously spirited presentation of the US fleet's war games during the 1930's.  Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=albert+nofi

DAVID ROSEN also moved to West Midwood from an apartment – in Park Slope – in a quest for more room for his family, arriving in the mid-1990's with his wife Tori and their daughter Sarah. David is a Professor of Anthropology at Fairleigh Dickinson University in Madison, New Jersey and in addition to a PhD from the University of Illinois, he also has practiced law, thanks to a J.D. from Pace Law School. In 2005, years of field research in Sierra Leone, Kenya, Israel and the Palestinian Territories culminated in a very well received study of child soldiers, Armies of the Young: Child Soldiers in War and Terrorism, published by Rutgers University Press and now available in paperback. David’s interest in this subject, on which he has now become a recognized expert, with published articles in the Connecticut Journal of International Law, American Anthropologist, among other journals, originally stemmed from an encounter many years ago with a paramilitary group when he was living in the Kono District of Sierra Leone. This armed contingent, David remembers, “acted like thugs and they all seemed to be quite young; then when civil war broke out in Sierra Leone in 1991, I realized that it was very much these same kinds of kids who were being recruited into the rebel forces".

As for Summer reading, David likes murder mysteries, especially by Ian Rankin who “mostly writes police procedurals set in Edinburgh.” Jacqueline Winspeare (Maisie Dobbs Mysteries), Peter Robinson (Inspector Banks) and spy novelist Alan Furst are also favorite authors. If they haven’t produced any new work, David will look for Israeli novels in translation and in this vein recommends David Grossman’s To the End of the Land. David especially enjoyed Virkram Chandra’s Sacred Games ("a big think novel about an Indian detectives pursuit of a well entrenched mobster"). Jonathan Franzen’s best seller, Freedom, is also recommended.   Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/Armies-Young-Soldiers-Terrorism-Childhood/dp/0813535689/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1306781426&sr=1-4

BETH DUNFEY, like so many others, emigrated to West Midwood from a Park Slope apartment with her husband Sam Nisson, in search of a spacious, kid-friendly environment. By that time, Beth had already authored BThe PowerPuff Girls Save The Day Sticker Book, using her late grandmother’s name, Ruth N. Carey, as a nom-de-plume. Published by Scholastic, where Beth worked for many years, helping to create the Harry Potter franchise, she is now a freelance editor and full-time mother of Roy, Nora and Tommy.  In between bedtime stories and melt-downs, Beth plans to read Let the Great World Spin, by Colum McCann, What I Saw and How I Lied, by Judy Blundell (“a young adult book that's supposed to be great!”) and heartily recommends Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen. Other recent favorites include: A Visit from the Goon Squad, by Jennifer Egan; The Imperfectionists, by Tom Rachman; The Lost City of Z, by David Grann (“a thrilling nonfiction read from a New Yorker staff writer about a man who becomes obsessed with finding an ancient civilization in the Amazon”); Brooklyn, by Colm Toibin; and This Is Where I Leave You, by Jonathan Tropper (“a fun read perfect for the beach”). Beth also recommends these young adult novels: Shiver, by Maggie Stiefvater and The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins (“soon to be a major motion picture!”).  Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/Powerpuff-Girls-Save-Sticker-Book/dp/0439160154/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1306781263&sr=1-7

PATRICK HOWELL O’NEIL is the only West Midwoodian scribe who was born and raised in Argyle Heights. Patrick’s Starcraft Bible was published in January and has generated a lot of attention in the computer gaming world. In researching the book, I chanced upon more coverage of Patrick on the Internet than all the other four authors combined. Interviews, pictures, long rapturous reviews and even a “coming attraction” trailer for the book with theme music by Hans Zimmer that frankly was so awesome, I immediately downloaded it to my iPod. Patrick’s reading selections have something for everyone and are so well described, I will let them speak for themselves:

“Masters of Doom by David Kushner is the story of how a couple of young talented guys who lacked direction in their early twenties went on to be the artists and programmers and minds behind several of the most important video games of all time, becoming pop culture icons and unimaginably wealthy rock stars with all the good and bad that comes with that. It's a very good book period but is absolutely awesome if you played games in the 80s or 90s.

“A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin is one of the few fantasy franchises I've ever read in full. It started in 1996 and has a new book coming out in July. At this point, it's a genre classic and required reading even if you are raising your nose and rolling your eyes at the thought of reading a fantasy book. It's more of a Machiavellian political thriller than a classic fantasy book. There's less wizards in robes and more sharp tongued politicians with daggers on their person. It's also got an HBO show now but do yourself a favor and read the book that started it first.

“The Road by Cormac McCarthy is a beautiful book about a father and son moving through a gorgeously grim post-apocalyptic landscape, hoping to find anything good at all. It's won a ton of prizes (including a Pulitzer) and is on a million and one best-of-the-decade lists. Don't wait for me to convince you, just read it.”
Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=patrick+howell+oneill&rh=n%3A283155%2Ck%3Apatrick+howell+oneill&ajr=0

EDWARD ROTHSTEIN is the culture critic at large for the New York Times after serving as that paper’s chief music critic for many years. Ed grew up on Avenue N and East 14th Street, and recalls taking a circuitous bike route to Midwood High School just to sample “the charms of this neighborhood”. Friends of his parents (the Brenners) lured Ed and his young family to Argyle Road where Ed and his wife Marilyn have reared three children (Dena, Aaron and Anna) in their now almost empty nest at the crest of Argyle Heights. Ed, a Yale grad with a PhD from the University of Chicago, has won numerous awards for his music criticism and once did graduate work in mathematics at Brandeis, interests which led him to write Emblems of Mind: The Inner Life of Music and Mathematics, named one of the Top 25 Books of 1995 by both Publishers Weekly and The New York Public Library. Reissued in paperback in 2006, Emblems explains why “the connections between math and music are far from accidental”. One of those connections occurs whenever I play guitar since I can often hear audiences mumble that they are “counting the minutes until that noise stops.” Ed also wrote a marvelous essay, "Utopia & Its Discontents", one of the three that comprise the 2003 book, Visions of Utopia published by Oxford University Press. Ed points to the Internet as the latest quasi-Utopia for its more visionary proponents.

As for Summer reading, Ed expressed deep disappointment when informed that Flying Saucers & Credit Default Swaps: The Alien Plot to Buy Our Debt was not available in book form, since it is hard to read Internet stuff on the beach and not get sand all over it. Ed actually prefers audio books these days, which allows him to listen on the subway, in the car, or while e-mailing me late one recent night: “Right now, George Guidall is reading Crime and Punishment into my ears; it is so good I almost dread listening. I might as well recommend him as a good reader (check out audible.com)…I also recommend literate historical spy fiction by Alan Furst and thrillers by Vince Flynn. And then there are some great Dickens readers and...back to work!” Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Edward+rothstein

Finally, my wife Virginia is a member of two Book Groups that meet regularly and I figured she must have some good picks since she reads about two books a week. She left out a stack for me to peruse but I couldn’t get past the watercolor dust covers showing reflective stationery female adults. None depicted UFOs, human zombies or even a single mangled corpse. Of course, I expected as much. Years ago, I tried to join one of her groups, but when I kept suggesting we read The Zombie Plot To Poison Our Food Supply, I got the boot.

Well there you have it. Alert readers will have noticed multiple recommendations for Jonathan Franzen and Alan Furst. All in all, I must admit there are some books I am tempted to stuff in my suitcase – just in case the Mets are mathematically eliminated by mid-July. Particularly that book about that guy looking for a lost civilization on the Amazon web site, where all of West Midwood’s authors may be found as well.

[EDITOR’s NOTE: If you have a published book available on Amazon and were not included in this article, please address your concerned outrage about this or other issues, including zombies, to joe@enright.com (“an ego so big, he needed his own domain”), who can also be found roaming through http://argyleheights.blogspot.com/]

The Strand - My Favorite Book Store

Parking Meter Memories

November 9, 2010..."Don't follow leaders, watch the parking meters", was playing on my headphones as I got off the subway one very early morning, so, being sleep deprived, I followed Bob Dylan's command and sauntered around West Midwood but no parking meters could I find to watch.

So I widened my search and found some in Fiske Terrace along Avenue H and then on the north side of Foster and, of course, Cortelyou Road was aswim with the ugly metallic monsters. But none in West Midwood. I'm not sure what, if any, significance this has, but there you have it.

During my sIeepy walk, I did see a car with a parking ticket on its windshield, and it set my mind a-wandering...It was back in 1986, and I had just been air-lifted into the Parking Violations Bureau which back then was located on top of the old Wannamaker building in Greenwich Village.

There had been a big BIG scandal involving the letting of very very BIG contracts and one day I found myself in a dusty dark storeroom off of the General Counsel's office. I was looking for an old contract when I suddenly found myself facing a five foot high stack of what appeared to be at first glance stock certificates. But upon closer inspection, they were bench warrants. For motorists who had failed to answer parking summonses.

Parking tickets used to be returnable in criminal court - until the tsunami of more serious crimes led to “decriminalization" of double-parking et al in 1970, with PVB created to process the summonses. But apparently PVB never threw out the bench warrants it had inherited, and there they sat, long past the expiration date of their enforceability.

So I did what any level-headed person would do, I used white-out to erase the name and address on a warrant, typed in the name of my boss and at an appropriately embarrassing time, confronted him with his scofflaw past. The old statute-of-limitations-expired-bench-warrant-switcheroo. Surprisingly, my boss, who had also been dropped into the middle of the mess, got a big kick out of the bench warrant and had it framed as a memento of a bizarre time. After which we had all those old warrants shredded,…Hmmm. I wonder what the statute of limitations is for destroying official government records? If it’s less than 24 years, so long it’s been good to know ya, have a great holiday season and keep watching those meters!

The View From Argyle Heights: And That’s What I Like About West Midwood

September 12, 2010...Been away from home a lot lately which affords me the opportunity to reflect upon what it is I miss about this neighborhood, apart from sleeping in my own bed. So I reduced my thoughts to a ten best list.

10. The cul-de-sac-iness of it all which cuts down on traffic.

9. Quiet Fridays.

8. Neighbors who put your papers on your back porch and watch out for your home.

7. Close to the subway, meaning you don’t need the car for everything.

6. Listening to kids’ squeals when they play in the snow.

5. Quiet Saturdays.

4. Annual Halloween Parade.

3. Annual Progressive Dinner (when I first heard about this event 22 years ago, I thought it was somewhat odd to have a dinner celebrating America’s Progressive Era).

2. Sort of Annual Yard Sale.

1. Did I mention good neighbors?

I Walk Alone...Or Do I?

October 25, 2009...I'd been working odd hours for weeks, taking trains home at 3am, 5am and the like. Sometimes the Q but usually the F because it seemed to run more frequently then, although it was a longer walk home. The front exit of the F train stop at 18th Ave is at Parkville and McDonald Avenues, a mere half block to Foster.  Since McDonald is the equivalent of East 0 Street, walking to Argyle Road, the equivalent of East 13th Street, is almost a mile when you count in the other north-south blocks. However, there are 16 stops from the West 4th Street station in Manhattan to 18th Avenue on the F, vs. 8 stops on the B to Newkirk.  Bummer. Especially when there's some crazy dude in your car screaming about the gypsies eating his hair.

Tuning the crazy guy out, I remember when there used to be a freight train that ran along the trolly tracks on McDonald Avenue, underneath the El, until the 1970's.  Prior to the El being built around 1920, the grade level service was called the "Culver line".  Since I still see signs for the "Culver Local" on F trains, I looked this up and Andrew R. Culver laid track back in the 1870's that ran from Prospect Park West (then called 9th Avenue) and 20th Street, intersecting McDonald at Ditmas Avenue, where it hung a right down to Coney Island.  And now nobody knows who Culver was but his name lives on.  Well played, Mr. Culver, well played.  And there you have it, subway fans.

Anyway, as I was walking along Foster Avenue last night, past the Abu Bakr Mosque where the Blind Sheikh was arrested back in early July 1993 (after plotting to blow up the United Nations, and a few bridges and tunnels), it started to rain. The Abu Bakr is directly across the street from Engine 250, which lost firefighter Michael Ragusa on 9/11, when the Blind Sheikh's associate, UBL, blew up the World Trade Center with human missiles.

It occurred to me that it had been 8 years since 9/11, and 8 years had also passed between the first and second World Trade Center attacks. Back in 1993 my wife had been inside the World Trade Center and in 2001 she and my brother and others I knew had been seriously affected by the next attack. All had survived. Not so the sons of firefighters I had worked with two decades earlier.

Everyone remembers where they were on 9/11, but I tried to recall where I was in 1993 when the press swarmed around the tiny Abu Bakr mosque, where the Sheikh had holed up, trying to avoid the life in prison that awaited him. My son was only 18 months old then. We must have been home, maybe getting ready for family to visit for a 4th of July bar-b-que. I think my next door neighbors, the Rhines, had just moved in. Arthur was a Mets fan. A fellow-sufferer, sweet! 

The rain came down harder on Foster Avenue.

When it rains, of course, I can hear them rejoicing at Dawn Dry Cleaners, as the crease disappears on my pants yet again. Oh the joy of being the only person wearing a suit and tie, disembarking from the NYC transit system at 4:30am. Talk about standing out in a crowd.

As I walked along, nearing Seton Place, not far from the 70 Precinct house, where many more memories swirled, my BlackBerry rang -- it was my boss who said I should turn around and come back to the job. As I attempted to talk my boss out of such foolishness, a blind man, tapping the sidewalk with his cane, walking West on Foster (as I walked East toward Argyle Heights) called out to me as he came abreast.

"Please help me!" he implored.

One thing about being on the street at 4:30am in the rain. When somebody yells in your direction, three feet away, to help, there's no way you can ignore it and keep walking, by rationalizing "Oh, he must be calling out to someone else."

I told my boss I'd call back.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I need to put my watch on," the blind man pleaded.

"No problem," I replied. He reached out his hand and handed me a watch. He kept that same hand outstretched so I took the watch and strapped it to his left arm.

"My name is Richard," he said. "What's yours?"

"Joe," I said. "Joe Watch-Putter-On-Guy," I said, to cover my embarrassment.

"Thank you, Joe" he said.

"Glad I could help."

When I got a block away I turned around to look back and the blind man was no longer in sight. The mosque and firehouse were both closed tight at this hour. Where could he have gone? Maybe he reversed direction back to Seton Place and then tapped on the 70 Precinct?

Then I wondered, why would a blind man want a wrist watch? It didn't appear to be any different from the watch I was wearing. Maybe it had a special audio component to announce the time? Or maybe the glass cover flipped open so he could feel the hour and second hands?

Or was this a strange portent? Or maybe it didn't happen and I was just sleep-deprived?

Is it later than we think? Does time wait for no none? Or maybe as the Chambers Brothers used to sing, "Time Has Come Today"?

The Attack of The Blogs

This is a quick survey of Blogs that are written by, or for, folks in our neck of the woods. Some blogs (web + log) may start out as shared on-line diaries bursting with ideas and content, only to peter out as the muse is lost. The blogs here are more focused, however. That’s not to say they will be around forever. Or even for a few months. A number of blogs I used to follow have either folded or stopped adding content. Among them are Eli Kramer’s “Brooklyn Junction”, the Kensington blog (silent for four months) and Flatbush Vegan (moved on to “less greener pastures”). So in another year, this list may be as outdated as VHS tapes.

City Pragmatist

citypragmatist.com
Argyle Road’s favorite son, Alvin Berk, has a wonderful new site that invites discussion on our local governance. While politics can get heated, here the flame simmers at a low level, with the light generated by thoughtful reporting about our civic landscape; no demagoguery or hotheads allowed, thank you very much.

Ditmas Park Blog ditmasparkblog.com

All Victorian Flatbush, all the time. Sign up on the home page by entering your e-mail address and get a daily summary of the past 24 hours of posts. Until the Post, the News or the Times opens a Flatbush Bureau, this is as close as you’re going to get to an almost real-time update on what’s going down in these parts.



Flatbush Gardener
flatbushgardener.blogspot.com
If you have a green thumb (or wish you did), this blog’s for you – beautiful lay-out and photos. Xris doesn’t just write about botany, though. He will often post local stories of interest (like the recent sale of the Loew’s Kings) and his slide shows of holiday lights are always a treat. Also a fantastic list of other Brooklyn and gardening links.
Deep In The Heart of Brooklyn dithob.blogspot.com
Brooklyn day to day with politics and lots of music.

Only The Blog Knows Brooklyn

onlytheblogknowsbrooklyn.com

The Comic Book Guy on “The Simpsons” summed it all up for me when he said: “The best name for a Brooklyn blog ever.” The daily pictures are great and you’re bound to find some excerpt from local bloggers that you’ll want to peruse. (Author also does fabulously funny "Smart Mom" column in Brooklyn Paper.)

Flatbush NYC

flatbushnyc.blogspot.com

A resident of Flatbush Gardens (what used to be the Vanderveer Projects when I hung out there as a kid) shares his droll adventures with spelling-challenged management.

70 Precinct Community Council

70pctcc.blogspot.com

Meeting minutes, useful phone list, schedule of next get-togethers and press of interest.

Times City Room Blog

cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com

I know what you’re thinking – how could this be considered a blog? Well, I don’t care what you call it - it’s got great features and links (including a lot of the blogs I list here). Sadly, by the time you read this, it might not be free any more, unless you have a Times subscription.

Well, that’s enough to get you started. While compiling this list I spent hours wandering around links embedded in these blogs and found a dozen or more sites of interest, particularly some devoted to old or forgotten Brooklyn streets, trains, celebrities and photos, which for some reason I can’t resist.

The most spectacular site for history buffs is the City’s map page, where they have added aerial photographs of the entire City from 1924: gis.nyc.gov/doitt/nycitymap Once at the site, simply click on the camera icon at the top and slide the view from 2008 to 2006 to 1924. In 1924 at the highest magnification, you can see the Glenwood Road bridge, the lack of any structures along stretches of Coney Island Avenue, and a lot of vacant land between Newkirk Avenue and Dorchester Road. Also, the land upon which Brooklyn College would stand was still being cleared, the LIRR freight line looked a lot busier (there was a station and a rail yard at the Junction) and a lot of other interesting sights. Plan on dawdling there for a good hour before resuming your blog quest.

Hopefully by the time I retire the Internet will not have morphed into some sort of FaceBook juke box where our constant updates are sung to each other by Youtube avatars at some astronomical cost, because I’d really like to spend some quality time giving all these sites the time they deserve.

Joe Enright

argyleheights.blogspot.com

TAKING THE PULSE OF THE ZEIT-POLTER-GEIST

The aging of Baby Boomers has led some of us to a more poignant appreciation of how fleeting indeed is our time to strut upon this stage. Personally, the approach of the Great Beyond has made me more cognizant of an exponential growth in hair coloring products. Plus, I’ve noticed a lot more reality TV shows about ghosts. Just as alien spaceships promised an earlier generation that there would be survival of consciousness after our species' extinction in nuclear winter, watching the pseudo-scientific search for "the undead" helps me cling to the belief that somehow, someway, my hair will survive and remain suitably dark.

There are 20 different non-fiction ghost shows now airing. Not specials – but regularly scheduled programs. 20. Don’t force me to name them. OK, I need a thousand words for this article, so I will: Ghost Hunters, Ghost Hunters International, Ghost Hunters Academy, Destination: Truth, Paranormal State, Extreme Paranormal, Psychic Kids: Children of the Paranormal, Ghost Adventures, Most Haunted, Most Haunted USA, We Live Here In Fear, X-Testers, Ghost Lab, Ghost Stories, Ghostly Encounters, Haunted History, Psychic Investigators, Celebrity Ghost Stories, Dead Famous, and Ghost Trackers.

Most of these series center around intrepid ghost hunters who are filmed on the job late at night in abandoned jails, prisons, and psychiatric hospitals, bathed only in camera light. Frequently there will be excited pointing at weird stuff in the immediate vicinity of the hunter. But alas and alack, neither the nearby camera operators nor the helmet-mounted “head-cams” capture these apparitions in time. Ever. At which point, cut to the ghost hunter looking into the camera to relive that moment just passed, explaining what it was he saw and how perhaps it might turn up on other equipment he brought along, which includes, but is not limited to: video goggles, thermal imaging cameras, portable digital voice recorders, parabolic microphones, electro-magnetic field detectors (aka “K2 meters”) and of course, black and white cameras mounted on one’s head. For a full list, go to ghost-mart.com. The hunted apparitions, much like their space brothers from Zeta Reticuli, have proven to be quite camera shy, however. And yet, equivocal shapes and truly obscure images sometimes do appear, particularly during ratings sweeps.

A less prevalent format features dramatic reenactments intertwined with on camera comments by the real protagonists, who fondly recall their chilling ghostly encounters. New shows in this vein feature unemployed actors and singers, many of whom I thought were dead until I saw them on “Celebrity Ghost Stories,” describing vague shapes they sort of remember in between their stints in rehab. Not surprisingly, this category appears to be on the decline. What’s needed is a countdown show of “The Top 100 Hauntings of All Time.”


The cable stations love these countdown shows because they fill up a lot of air time and once you watch a few minutes you can’t help but wonder what will be the number one computer game of the 1990’s or whether the hula hoop will outrank the slinky among “The Top 100 Toys of The 1950’s”. I remember when the Weather Channel counted down “The Top 100 Weather Stories In History” and some cataclysmic event that wiped out most life on Earth in some former epoch was ranked way behind a long-forgotten cold wave in the northern plains. Usually that happens because they can’t find somebody from 20,000 BC to appear and reminisce about the cataclysm and there’s very little newsreel from that time. But that’s exactly the kind of controversial programming that these tired reenactment series need. Some forward thinking programmers could then follow up with a hybrid, like a countdown of “The Top 100 Songs From The 1980’s About Ghosts.”

As these shows have proliferated, certain niche markets are now being exploited. The creepiest is a show called “Psychic Kids: Children of the Paranormal” in which youngsters who see dead people are told by older mediums and clairvoyants that their gift should be used to do good, and are urged not to appear as guest commentators for ghost count-down shows on other channels.

The most recent trend has been the appearance of moronic provacateurs who have decided to get tough with the undead. In “Ghost Adventures” for instance, Aaron, Zak and Nik run around in video goggles screaming at the spirits to show themselves like real men and then bump into rakes which they claim the ghosts have somehow moved in their path. Zak is very buff and quick to doff his tight tee shirts to show ghost bruises caused by rakes, vowing revenge. For some reason, this show is on the Travel Channel and not the Gardening Network.

“Extreme Paranormal” on the other hand is a sort of hybrid that melds MTV’s “Jackass” with that reality cooking show where the snobby Australian chef yells at the contestants and then throws food at them. In “Extreme,” Shaun, Nathan and Jason invariably start fires, drink poison and bury each other alive just to get the ghosts to come out and play. In “Ghost Lab”, brothers Brad and Barry Klinge visit spots other ghost hunters have investigated and always come away with slightly less equivocal recordings and shapes than their competition. How do they do this? The Klinges look for the reason why the ghosts (which they just can’t seem to capture on film – ever) are haunting a particular place: it has something to do with water. Where there’s a lot of water, you’ll find lots of ghosts nearby, especially surfer ghosts.

But will this ghost boom last or go the way of The Western? Already, one sees disturbing signs of decline: in one week, two shows visited the same sites in Gettysburg. Two others featured The Merchants House at 29 E 4th St, a Washington Square brownstone in The Village. The “Ghost Hunters” episode found no ghosts there, but while unloading the van containing their high tech gear on East 4th Street, a well dressed passer-by non-chalantly picked up one of the head-cams and walked off with it. The “Ghost Hunters” spotted him a few seconds later and gave chase. Amazing how two cameras just happened to be filming the unloading of the van, not an activity usually associated with high drama or ratings. Maybe the camera men were sensitive to impending evil or something, like the “Psychic Kids”.

Anyway, before the craze peters out, I hope the “Ghost Adventuring Hunters” respond to my e-mail asking them to investigate my garage. Two cars died right at the entrance. And the stopped-up drain always provides a big pool of water. Plus, there’s a lot of rakes in there to step on.

PS For a good laugh, take a look at http://current.com/items/91251941_i-aint-afraid-of-no-ghost-shows.htm or http://www.hulu.com/watch/104473/infomania-i-aint-afraid-of-no-ghost-shows#s-p3-sr-i1

Yard Sales and Lost Patrols

The View From Argyle Heights


(Another in a series of observations about life in West Midwood as it is lived today…or maybe not)


What Linda Howell describes as the “almost annual” West Midwood Yard Sale took place on Sunday, April 26th, and what a sale it was. Record warmth bathed the neighborhood as bargain-hunters swarmed our streets from mid-morning to late afternoon to scoop up remnants from all our attics, garages and closets. Kudos to Marilyn Cuff, Robert Seidel, Loreli Coutts and others for organizing this event that helped to revive West Midwood’s sagging economy.

Virginia and I did some desultory wandering through the crowds but opted to hit the beach at Rockaway for most of the afternoon since our junk was so hideous, it would have scared off buyers from continuing down the block. We did manage to participate in a way by lending our tables to Henry and Anthony Finkel, which brought back memories of many yard sales of yore wherein Henry and our son James would spend hours selling Pokemon and Magic cards and then, experiencing sellers’ remorse, proceed to buy them back from other neighborhood kids at a net loss. But it was all great fun.

In response to a solicitation on West Midwood Online, the most bizarre yard sale story involved an elderly gentleman who asked more than one neighbor to use the bathroom. Once admitted, he would ensconce himself in the house and make numerous calls on his cell phone until the exasperated hosts would have to insist on his leaving.

By far the most expensive item on display that day was the Levy residence on Argyle Road where the late John & Janet Levy raised a family. The Sunday open house staged by Mary Kay Gallagher coincided with the yard sale and as I watched others wander in to take a look, I recalled big John Levy bounding across the street that September day 21 years ago to welcome us to the neighborhood and then signing me up to participate in the “Neighborhood Patrol” shortly thereafter. I also remembered Janet telling me about the son of the first owner of our house, reportedly a scion of the Wrigley gum fortune, who, in the 1950’s, she would see praying on his knees near the second floor bedroom window. And I also remembered that ice-cold Sunday when I squeezed into Alvin Burke’s car to attend the memorial service for John some 15 years ago.

I seem to recall sitting next to Dave Knapp at the service. Dave and I were “partners” in the anti-crime patrol organized by John. Although "patrol" might be too strong a word. We were given a walkie-talkie that weighed 10 pounds
and a flashing amber light we stuck on the roof of my old Datsun, powered by a chord we plugged into the cigarette lighter. Then we drove up and down every West Midwood street over and over again talking about all the things that men talk about if they’re stuck in a car together for three hours crawling along at 10mph, wishing they were home watching a ball game, ignoring furious tail-gaters anxious to pass them.

Dave, a gentle and generous man who passed away last year, talked a lot about his daughter and his beloved wife, Rivoli. One night, as Dave described his stint in the Army during the Korean War, a woman ran out in front of our car on Westminster Road yelling that somebody had tried to rob her.

“Call the base,” said Dave, as he calmed the woman.

I picked up the walkie-talkie.

“West Midwood to Base. Over.” Silence. I repeated my call. More silence.

I kept calling until finally, after what seemed like minutes, I heard:

“Base to West Midwood. Sorry. Was just chatting with some officers here at the
70th Precinct. What is your status? Over.”

I related we had just interrupted a robbery. The reply was swift and authoritative:

“West Midwood, call 911. Over”

“Base, this is West Midwood. Did you just tell me to call 911? Over.”

“Affirmative, West Midwood. Call 911. Over”

“Base, you sit within shouting distance of the desk sergeant at the 70 Precinct. Why don’t you just tell him to send a patrol car instead of my calling 911?”

No reply. Then: “West Midwood, you didn’t say ‘Over’. Over”.

My response as I recall cannot be repeated in a family newsletter but suffice it to say that I was being asked, in a time before any of us had cell phones, to find a pay phone and call 911 because there was no “linkage” between the community patrol and the police other than the base station for the walkie-talkie just happened to be located on the first floor of the 70 Precinct on Lawrence Street. I think we drove the lady home and she called 911 herself, by which time the attempted robber was probably already on parole for a subsequent crime.

After that, Dave and I used the walkie-talkie as a prop, occasionally faking conversations with the base (“West Midwood to Base, our vehicle is being pulled by a tractor beam into a huge circular craft hovering over the cut! Is it OK if you call 911 for us?”)

Ah, memories. Although we couldn’t help that woman on Westminster that night, Dave would always say: “That swirling light probably keeps some werewolves away, Joe.” That it did, Dave, old friend, that it did. Rest in peace.

West Midwood OnLine: An Historical Perspective

As I write these words, in mid-February, it’s been six weeks since the West Midwood e-mail discussion group got underway. In this day and age, that’s practically two careers and a few bail-outs already, so I thought I’d take a nostalgic look back at some of the highlights, lowlights and trends we have observed so far.

First, 97 e-mail addresses participate, a fair sampling, but nowhere near the number of residences here. If you don’t have access, read the President’s Message in this issue or just send an e-mail to joe@enright.com or argyleheights@gmail.com asking to join. So far, 17 of the 97 subscribers have posted messages and many more have commented on those posts. The posting that garnered the most replies was the one that somebody started on New Year’s Day about re-naming West Midwood as Argyle Heights. 40 outraged citizens responded and search parties were launched but thanks to an alert neighbor’s tip, the author was able to slip away into the night again. “Patronizing Local Merchants” by Alison Morea resulted in 24 messages about local eateries but mostly about Hot Bagels in Newkirk Plaza. Tamara Hartman’s February 10th inquiry about the new construction at Newkirk Plaza generated 16 replies, and replies to the replies, etc. “The FDC Dinner” on March 12th honoring Len and Carole Grau and Al and Alison’s Midwood Martial Arts, announced by Linda Howell, led to eight replies. And “Mulchfest” by Linda Howell elicited seven comments about mulch, which I thought frankly was a little bit too sexy for a neighborhood e-mail group.



All in all, there has been an average of one new conversation every couple of days and as you can see, the topics that most energize recipients are about our neighborhood or mulch. This is fortunate because the discussion group is titled “West Midwood OnLine”. Imagine the disappointment if we talked about Soho all the time. Staying this focused does not always happen. I once belonged to a Yahoo group called “Space Aliens Are Taking Over New Hampshire” and the discussion kept veering off kilter into things like why the Aztecs invented the vacation. Which would lead others to insist that it was really the Incas or that prehistoric dogs flew space ships. So, despite the absence of any regular reporting about things happening in our neck of the woods, at least we now have a way we can share news and events right away AND THEN GOSSIP ABOUT THEM as long as we want. We are truly blessed. And for this we all have Linda Howell, our community president, to thank, who insisted I do it or else she would let people know about that Soho discussion group I started about zombies.

West Paterson Un-Westernizes!

Today, January 1, 2009, West Paterson, New Jersey, officially became Woodland Park. From the AP Wire: "City fathers in the Passaic County town ... expect the move will increase property values by removing the association with Paterson, its gritty industrial neighbor. The name change follows a narrowly passed November referendum in which voters approved the change by 25 votes. Officials said residents don't need to change their addresses for bills. The borough plans to implement the name change gradually, to spread out the cost of paying for new signs. Workers have placed new logos on municipal vehicles."

The key phrase in the story is obvious: "[T]he move will increase property values." The mayor, Pat Lepore, was quoted as saying after the election: ""Let’s remember that West Paterson is a great town. Woodland Park will be the same great town West Paterson was. We'll just be a lot richer is all."

West Midwood could just as easily become Argyle Heights or Glenwood Ridge or Westminster Park or Rugby Fields. We would just have to bribe a few dozen well placed officials -- way less than New Jersey. Plus, there are no signs to change. Although the name of the West Midwood discussion group and the newsletter and the web site would have to be heavily edited...Oh well, just a thought as we embark on a New Year...

My wife says I have way too much time on my hands and should go back to work tomorrow, but I say that way lies madness!! Why, there's still 37 football games left to watch this weekend.

Election Day 2008

I was outside the polling place at PS 217 on Newkirk Avenue about 6:15am. The line was already two deep down the stairs out to the street. As I waited in the pre-dawn darkness, off in the distance we could hear a loud deep male voice shouting, but we could not make out what he was saying. Something about "president"… Then we could hear "Barack Obama! First black president!!" Finally, he emerged, riding slowly, weaving back and forth from one side of Newkirk Avenue to the other, calling out LOUDLY to each passer-by: "Barack Obama elected first black president!! Hello brother! Barack Obama first black president!!" It was a young guy riding a mountain bike. We made eye contact: "Hey big guy! Barack Obama elected first black president!!"

A young woman behind me chided the booming voice: "He ain’t elected yet!" The bike rider slowed and answered quickly: "You right.” Then in a softer voice that could only be heard on Coney Island Avenue: “Everybody entitled to their opinion." And then he suddenly thundered:

"BARACK OBAMA!!" Lights flicked on in the apartment houses across the street.

"BARACK OBAMA IN THE HOOD!!" He paused. "That sounds good. I'm goin’ with that," he said to himself but still so loud somebody on the line asked me: “Where’s he going with this?”

And then, off he peddled in a voice that pierced the pre-dawn quiet for a block in every direction:
"BARACK OBAMA IN THE HOOD!! Bein’ elected first black president today!!"

"BARACK OBAMA IN THE HOOD!! Bein’ elected first black president today!!" He traveled four blocks, toward the B train, calling out to one and all, before we could no longer make out his voice.

The same female who had chided the young man sighed. "Looks like John McCain has sunk to a new low," she said.

"I think there might be some undecided voters in that apartment house over there who might have just swung over to the McCain camp" I said.

No sooner had I spoken then "the voice" started to grow louder again. A middle-aged man shouted out from an open window: "Hey! Shut up!"



"BARACK OBAMA IN THE HOOD!! Bein’ elected first black president today!!" came the reply.

"Hey! Shut the freak up!" came another, younger voice.

Me and my line mate looked at each other and laughed. I had to get to work, so I drifted off the line and voted later that night, about 8:20pm. No lines then. I stepped behind the curtain, clicked down the black button over the lone candidate I was voting for, cranked the lever, and I was outta there. On the walk home, I recalled a phrase I had heard earlier on the A train: “Rosa Parks sat, so Dr. King could march, so Obama could run, so America could soar.” Not bad, maybe just add at the beginning: “Jackie Robinson slid, and…”

At home, after listening to Obama’s speech ("It's been a long time coming, but tonight…change has come”), I got ready for bed, and remembered an old Sam Cooke song:

"I was born by the river in a little tent, and just like that river, I've been running ever since. It’s been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come...There were times when I thought I could not last too long, but now I think I'm able to carry on. It's been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come oh yes it will."

“A Change Is Gonna Come” was the flip side of “Shake”, a much bigger hit, but it still cracked the Top 40 in January 1965. Sam wrote the song in May 1963, after he spoke with sit-in demonstrators in Durham, North Carolina while on tour there, and maybe added a verse (that was edited out of the single) when he was arrested in October 1963 in Shreveport, Louisiana for disturbing the peace by trying to register at a “whites only” motel (“I go to the movie and I go downtown…Somebody’s tellin’ me don’t you hang around”). He didn’t record the song until January 1964 and didn’t release it until December of that year. There are many different versions of this song, from Otis Redding to The Band, from Solomon Burke to the Neville Brothers, from Aretha Franklin to Bobby Womack, and even Bob Dylan, whose “Blowin’ In The Wind” convinced Sam that “protest” song-writing could be popular, singing it at the Apollo in 2004 (www.songsofsamcooke.com/DylanChange.wma). But the original will always be the greatest, because it features what the others don’t have: one of the most beautiful voices to ever bless this planet (www.rollingstone.com/news/story/6595857/a_change_is_gonna_come has a link to 25 free listens via Rhapsody).

Anyway, “A Change is Gonna Come” was Sam Cooke’s last record – legend has it that it was being pressed for release the day he died. But as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but think that somewhere, somehow, Sam Cooke had a mighty big smile on his face.





Sam Cooke