gunks weekend, mens dormitory

new feature: what's grabcheski wearing right now?

(In honor of our newest reader, as observed this morning on his way to work.)

Blue oxford shirt
Gray sweater with holes, leaf debris stuck to piling
Jeans
Tevas


(Al circa 1994, before Corporate America had its way with him.)

what I’m listening to now (involuntarily)

"A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights,
It’s a free-for-all, y’all, every Saturday night,
But everybody treats everybody they way they should,
In my neighborhood."

Blasting out of Libation’s third floor window.

UPDATE: I have successfully complained, and therein deprived myself of my righteousness.

lau's wash & dry, 123 rivington st.

it's still thrilling to me, no matter how often i see my neighborhood portrayed on film.

new book cover

makes me headachy

The nanny’s boyfriend was in a car accident when I was a child. He worked in the kitchen of the country inn at the end of Springvale. Our road was at the top of a blind hill and a co-worker was dropping him off and they got rear-ended. The next day, at the bus stop, we found a single shoe, a loafer, singed at its bottom.

In the mornings now, up before Rivington is swept and bleached, the street is strewn with puke and beer bottles and the air seems dead, the void left by a party’s departed energy, and some days I’ll see a discarded shoe and feel like a child, confused by the portents, the distant, unknown conflagrations.

spring

For eight or nine years, the plant Greg left for Nathan has sat innocuously enough in the kitchen window, gathering dust, seeking sun. Now, suddenly, there's some strange growth on the main root.

A new limb? An exotic flower that blooms only once in a generation?

Stay tuned.

back from fla

Just have to grind out another 27 years in NYC and the Florida wintering can begin.