Crooklyn

I love to hate Brooklyn. It's been my home for more than two years now but it feels like I've been here forever. At this point in my life, I cannot think of anywhere else I would rather live in the United States. And before you dismiss me as a newcomer who knows nothing about the neighborhoods and has only visited a few, I must tell you that I have explored the borough from Greenpoint to Gerritsen Beach and everywhere in between. Name an intersection in Brooklyn and I'll tell you what neighborhood it's in and what is there. With that said, I can't seem to find a neighborhood that I actually love. I've lived so far in Midwood, Gowanus, Clinton Hill and Red Hook.

Below is a list of all the major Brooklyn neighborhoods in alphabetical order and what is wrong with them. Note: I have left out places that no one has ever heard of such as Flatlands and Homecrest.

• Bay Ridge: A long R train ride away from anything remotely hip and full of guidos and Irish frat boys with roid rage who are two Jager bombs away from declaring a war against the Jews from nearby neighborhoods. Bay Ridge is the only neighborhood in Brooklyn that consistently votes Republican.
• Bedford-Stuyvesant: It's come a long way and it's rich in architecture but severely lacking in amenities such as restaurants, bars and grocery stores where that sell meat other than goat.
• Bensonhurst: Damn the elevated train is loud. And why does Gina gotta make Vinny hit her? She probably makes him do it.
• Boerum Hill: All of a sudden it's the neighborhood to be in. After all, Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams plunked down three mil for an arguably dull townhouse on Dean and there are nice tree-lined blocks of stately homes, but the Gowanus Houses and Wyckoff Gardens ain't going anywhere anytime soon and the Chinese takeout places on Hoyt still have bulletproof glass.
• Borough Park: Oy vey.
• Brighton Beach: Get in, get your caviar, get out.
• Brooklyn Heights: Absolutely lovely with stunning homes, quaint blocks and a waterfront promenade. But you still have the same mailing address as people who live in Canarsie. And your friends from the Upper East Side never want to visit.
• Brownsville: Depressing new Fedders buildings mixed in with more depressing projects and straight out urban blight. Urban renewal is not necessarily a good thing, folks.
• Bushwick: Referred to as East Williamsburg a little too much these days. It's a pretty ugly looking area nonetheless and the street gangs are still around. So don't be fooled by that edgy little art gallery and cutesy little coffee place off the Morgan L; This is still a combat zone.
• Carroll Gardens: Yuppies and old school Italians don't always mix. And with all the beautiful homes there, there are only two blocks that are landmarked. Smith Street is Mediocre Restaurant Row (with a few exceptions). And anything south of 4th Place is a shithole not worthy of the Carroll Gardens name and asking prices. Abd you're stuck with the F train.
• Clinton Hill: Some of the grandest architecture exists here, but the border keeps moving eastward into Bed-Stuy and there are still only a handful of restaurants. Pratt students are annoying too.
• Cobble Hill: $3,600 a month for a mediocre 1 bedroom + den 15 minutes away from the closest subway? It's lovely, but no thanks.
• Coney Island: A neat concept and a melting pot for freaks, ghetto people and hipsters alike, but the beach is still pretty nasty and the proposed rehabilitation is gonna turn this interesting place into another Disney Land. (At least that will eliminate most of the hipsters.)
• Crown Heights: It's a damn shame that with all this beautiful architecture that the neighborhood still doesn't feel safe and is still recovering from the riots in 1992.
• Ditmas Park (and the rest of Victorian Flatbush): Impeccably maintained Victorians on suburban-sized lots with big mature trees make this look like an idyllic setting, but amenities are few and far between and the main thoroughfares (Church and Cortelyou) are not exactly what one wants nearby after paying $1.8 million for a grand Victorian.
• DUMBO: $1,200 a square foot to live in what is one of the noisiest places on earth. Annoying yuppies have ruined the already annoying artist vibe. The yuppies just have more purchasing power.
• Dyker Heights: See Bensonhurst.
• East Flatbush: Not so pretty and the West Indian inhabitants can be downright hostile.
• East New York: Utterly devoid of any charm and dangerous as hell.
• Fort Greene: I love it, but it's a bit expensive for an area that was blighted not so many moons ago. And the ghetto contingent is very much alive and well in the north side of the 'hood.
• Gowanus: Why is this desolate, unattractive, industrial area near a putrid canal commanding such high prices?
• Gravesend: The Sephardic Jews may as well take their ostentatious houses and their fancy cars and secede from the Union. You and I are not welcome in their very nonsecular neighborhood. (That includes you too, Mr. Reform Jew.)
• Greenpoint: Two words: Aluminum siding.
• Greenwood Heights: Last time I checked, this was Sunset Park. And I think naming a neighborhood after a cemetery is a tad morose.
• Marine Park: People who live in Marine Park do not leave Marine Park.
• Midwood: Kind of far out there on the Q line, not very welcoming to the non-Russian speaking visitor.
• New Lots: See East New York.
• Ocean Hill: I'd rather have rickets than live here.
• Park Slope: The strollers are coming, the strollers are coming!
• Prospect Heights: Borders that are dangerously close to Crown Heights, expensive and still not all that gentrified. A good home for Hipster Lites.
• Prospect-Lefferts Gardens/Manor: Beautiful townhomes, lousy amenities and quite sketchy.
• Red Hook: Desolate, no subway, ugly architecture, loads of projects, that garbage smell in the summer... Also the hipsters are not very welcoming to those not pursuing one of the arts. If you have a lot of tattoos, complicated shoes, irritating hats and a cynical disposition, you may like it here. I have none of the above so I don't much care for this place. Damn pricey for what it is too.
• Sheepshead Bay: Tacky, gawdy, Russians rule the land and sea here. The new construction is almost as hideous as the shit they're building in Queens too.
• Sunset Park: Stuck in between Park Slope and Bay Ridge, this neighborhood doesn't know what it wants to be. It's gritty and industrial on one side, with lots of adult video stores and sort of okay on the other side of 3rd Avenue, but if you don't speak Spanish (5th Ave.) or Mandarin (8th Ave.), you're shit out of luck.
• Vinegar Hill: The Farragut Houses and an overall creepy vibe. Kinda cool though.
• Williamsburg: No explanation needed.
• Windsor Terrace: I really don't see the attraction.

Anyway, if you see a reasonably priced 1 bedroom + den in Carroll Gardens, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn Heights or Fort Greene, let me know.

I really need to get out of here so I'm off to Texas for a few days. See you next week.

Sexual Perversity in...EVERYWHERE (Not for the children)

There are some sick motherfuckers out there. Somewhere in Germany, a military man has just defecated in another man's mouth. In Japan, a businessman has just purchased a pair of used schoolgirl panties from a vending machine, while right here in New York, a transvestite is sucking on a used condom in an alley.

Has the world gotten more perverse since the advent of the internet* or have people always been this depraved? Everyone thinks that Americans are the sick ones out there, but it's all over the world. We Americans are sexually repressed and we are making up for lost time via the world wide web. In .18 seconds, I can access 1,870,000 websites via Google with the phrase "scat pics" in there somewhere. There is even a website called Potty.org that features young Asian girls excreting. This is a non-profit. They are reaching out to those shit freaks out there who otherwise can't afford a membership to Scatbabes.com.

The word bukkake yielded 8,630,000 in .07 seconds. Bestiality is not quite as impressive at .10 seconds and only 2,740,000 websites.

These are particularly deranged fetishes, but there are literally thousands of sexual fetishes out there that no one knew existed before the internet. There are people out there that can only achieve an orgasm by licking the heel of a woman's boot. Who are these people? Where are these people?

Some other bizarre websites cater to things that most people would never even dream of finding sexually stimulating.

• www.hiccup_lovers.tripod.com This site is dedicated to people who love hiccups and fantasize about hiccups.
• www.geocities.com/colosseum/sideline/4549 Here is a site for those that are attracted to swimmers wearing swim caps.
• www.headphet.hopto.org Another non-profit. This includes photos and videos of women wearing headphones, ear muffs, and helicopter headsets.
• www.pinocchia.com Finally, someone has answered the prayers of those with an affinity for long-nosed women.
• www.tiava.com/pictures/tampon0 Picture and video galleries featuring bloody tampons and menstruating women. 'Nuf said.
• www.girlsbrushingtheirteeth.tk For people who enjoy the wonderful spectacle of a beautiful girl in the middle of her daily oral hygiene routine.
• www.operagloves.com You get the point by now.

This goes to show that virtually anything in the world can be turned into something sexually explicit. Are we that bored with our own mundane lives that we need to create ways to make each other sick?

The fascination with feces is particularly disturbing. I was talking to someone from Sweden recently who revealed to me that the Swedes dry and jar moose shit and sell it to Germans for the equivalent of $800 a jar. They know there is a market out there for it. Apparently Germans adorn there homes with such prizes. (I'm not sure if this is a sexual thing or just decorative and I don't really want to find out.)

*Thank you Mr. Gore.

Terms of Endearment

During my short stint in jail (which will be discussed at a later date), I picked up on some ghetto vernacular. Apparently, African-American men between the ages of 16 and 35 are fond of calling each other "son," which is nicer than "nigga." I'm not saying that they don't say "nigga" a lot, but "son" seems to be the most popular.

When did this all start? Where did they pick this up? Certainly not from positive role models such as Will Smith. It must have something to do with gangsta rap. I remember a few summers ago when the African-American youths were sporting outrageously large knee-length white t-shirts. Maybe this too shall pass and soon they will be calling each other by names like chief or captain.* "Yo chieftain, where da bitchez at tonight?" Have I been missing something in my life? Perhaps I should have a more diverse group of friends. Here are some examples of how the term is used.

• "Yo, these niggas be frontin' and shit, son."
• "Shit son, that Lexus is mad fly."
• "No son, I ain't aksing for no pussy - I got me a bitch."
• "These niggas be shittin' everywhere, son."

I wonder if people would find it strange if I, in all my smart casual glory, started speaking this way.** "Yo son, dat Cotes du Rhone is da bomb." "Shit, these niggas shouldn't be paintin' their shudders that color, son, this is a landmarked district."

I wish I had picked up more of their slang so I can be more in touch with the culture as I live only a few blocks away from public housing, where this type of speak is prevalent. Maybe I would feel more comfortable buying cigarettes over there if I spoke like them.

On the other hand, what if I tried to teach these kids how to speak properly? I could go over to the projects (the p's) on Saturday mornings and give lessons in voice, diction and grammar. If they ever want to get out of the p's, they're going to need to be able to speak in a way that commands respect. I could develop some lesson plans and just show up in the lobby of the Red Hook Houses and start teaching. I think the kids would enjoy it and it would keep them out of trouble for the four or five hours that I'm there every week. I would start out with easy lessons like avoiding double negatives and subject-verb agreement and take it from there. After a few months, these kids will be speaking (and behaving) like Al Roker. And New York City can thank me for it, son.

*"Old Sport" would be an interesting one.

**I actually have in front of my girlfriend and some of my friends - loudly enough for others to hear.

Meet the Fizzbows

A new breed of irritating yuppies have been infiltrating our society as of late. Fizzbows are self satisfied gentrifiers who lead a healthy and zen-like existence and try to sell their homes without a broker. FSBOs (for sale by owner), pronounced Fizzbows go to great lengths to market their mediocre property by creating a sharp looking flash website with images of their lovely home and minimalist décor. Savvy fizzbows even include pictures of their children (who are obviously gifted) and their precious cats who are cute only to them. They shun real estate brokers but are quick to take advice from their sisters-in-law who sell real estate up in Binghamton (a town that should have a p somewhere in it). They are the friendliest people in the world. They get entire articles written about them. Blogs devoted to them. Mobs of people showing up to snowy open houses because they read about them and their cat on Brownstoner.com and Curbed.com, two of New York City’s premier real estate web logs.

They generally require guests to remove their shoes upon entering their simplistic, yet functional and eco-friendly abode and love to hear the compliments. “Oh it’s so open and airy!” “Is this feng shui?” “Your children are just darling!” They vote, they belong to community gardens, they are involved within the schools and hold jobs such as graphic designers or health magazine editors. Somehow they have conned enough people into believing that they are holier-than-though and command much more respect than people willing to throw away 3-6% of the sale price of their precious home to a greedy broker.

However, these people are the greedy ones who don't price their properties 3-6% below what they would if a broker had been representing them. To them, going through a broker is taking the easy way out and is just passé and un-PC. And if they are successful in selling their condo FSBO, their neighbors will be doing the same thing in a few months and their neighbors...thus creating an epidemic that Malcolm Gladwell can write about in his next book.

These gentrifiers may have a point. No one really needs a broker. If you can create snap a few photographs, throw it on the web and write a paragraph, you, too can sell real estate. And if you're home between 2 and 4 on Sunday and light some vanilla scented candles (organic of course), you can sell your house and pocket the money that you saved in order to save Darfur.

The Upside of Poverty

Living in the projects just doesn't seem that bad to me. There are many pros to living in the projects. Obviously, the rent is a dream and the lucky dwellers get primo locations in hip locations.

For instance, those fortunate enough to reside in Wyckoff Gardens or the Gowanus Houses get to live in leafy and stately Boerum Hill, a stone's throw from all the eateries and boutiques of Smith Street and very close to Heath Ledger's townhouse.

Those in the Farragut Houses in Vinegar Hill are within walking distance to DUMBO's trendy art galleries, restaurants and the breathtaking waterfront. Brunch at Superfine anyone?

To live in the Walt Whitman houses in Fort Greene, one must be pretty damn introspective as Mr. Whitman himself was. In fact, they should be named the "Transcendentalist Houses." Plus, Fort Greene is one of the hottest neighborhoods in Brooklyn. I would love to live over there. Beautiful sycamore lined streets of grand Italianate and Greek Revival brownstones and a bucolic park. The Ingersol Houses are also there.

In the Red Hook Houses, you get to live within a few blocks of none other than myself. You also get the best grocery store in Brooklyn (Fairway) and some funky little bars and restaurants, not to mention BWAC and some of the best views of the Statue of Liberty on land.

Residents of the Marcy Houses get to enjoy the nearby attractions in Williamsburg, Bed Stuy and Clinton Hill and have the distinction of living in the development that Jay-Z grew up in. That's gotta be worth something, right?

Across the East River in the sought-after Lower East Side, those fortunate to live in public housing get to actually live the bohemian lifestyle that the newer residents claim to while taking advantage of all the nightlife and fun that is associated with the area.

There are even projects on the Upper West Side near Lincoln Center. Talk about location! All the culture and the grandeur of Central Park right in your backyard. (Your neighbors, however, wish that you weren't in their backyard, but fuck them, you were probably there first.)

Over in Long Island City, Queens, the Queensbridge houses offer waterfront living at a fraction of the price of those overrated "luxury" condos that seem to be popping up everywhere. In the playgrounds of these houses, Ron Artest once perfected his free-throws and learned how to fight off trash-talking spectators, while in the hallways, Nas was learning to rap. All this only a 10 minute ride on the 7 train to Midtown.

And over in Brownsville, Brooklyn, the (ah nevermind, there's nothing good about the projects over there.)

Other perks that public housing dwellers get include panoramic views (shit, imagine the views from the 20th floor in the Red Hook Houses - the city, the water, Lady Liberty), spacious layouts (3 and 4 bedrooms available to families - a lot more square footage than they can get in a $950K condo in Park Slope) and last but not least, parking! These people actually get parking! A car in this city is considered to be an unnecessary luxury item and these people pay $400 a month to live in penthouses in the sky in prime neighborhoods while they park their pimped-out Escalades completes with spinners and blacked out windows in a private parking space (all on our dime). In New York City, the average parking space costs $500 a month to rent or from $25,000 to $100,000 to purchase. That's how valuable they are. Only in America.

So, quit whining about living in the projects. So there's the occasional urine in the elevator. (At least you have an elevator. And if it makes you feel better, my roommate's cat used to pee all over my floor and cat piss is worse than human piss in my opinion.) And your building doesn't have a fitness center or a doorman. Neither does mine. And there's the occasional gun shot. (Cry me a fucking river.) And some people sell drugs. Waaaaah waaaah waaah. Just remember, parking, views, space and location.

It ain't much better in a market rate unit. In fact it's worse. Cherish what you have until they convert them all to "luxury" co-ops like in Peter Cooper Village. But even if they do, you'll get the option to buy them for about 1/16th of the market value. So save your welfare checks folks.

Blogging for Columbine

Michael Moore is the most annoying person in America. He really and truly gets under people's skin. Now, I'm not saying that his movies aren't well done and entertaining. (Actually, they are quite engaging and insightful.) I'm also not saying that he doesn't make valid points. (He does.) It's just that he's fucking irritating as hell and he knows it.

I guess my main issue with him is his narration. He speaks to his audience in a condescending tone that is usually reserved for 2nd graders and mental patients. That's a great way to alienate your viewers. Listen, we know you're a pretty sharp guy; you have nothing to prove on that front. Speak to us like fucking adults. And while I'm on the subject, that Midwestern accent needs to go.*

Wherever this guy goes, he seems to piss people off. I like controversy just as much as the next guy, but the way he presents it just rubs people the wrong way. The thing about Michael Moore is that he is equally disliked among conservatives and liberals even though the left-wingers should love him almost as much as they love Jon Stewart. The reason comes back to the fact that he's ANNOYING. If I were George W., I would banish him from the United States. And I'm a liberal who likes his movies!

Here are some runners up for the prize of the Most Annoying Person in America.**

• Al Franken - I like a lot of what he has to say, but his arrogance prevents him from being likable.
• Jay Leno - This guy is the biggest phony to grace our television sets since Ed McMahon. He hasn't had an original thought in his head since the Carter administration.
• Tom Cruise - No explanation needed.
• Sheryl Crow - I kinda dig you but don't tell me how much toilet paper to use. Honey, you may drive a Prius and walk around uncomfortably wet in your nether regions all day, but how much energy does your 20,ooo square foot mansion burn a year? With that said, will you go out with me? Just once? Please???
• Harvey Firstein - Tone it down about eight notches.
• David Arquette - What's your IQ, about 65? How did you land the chick from Friends?
• Robert Wuhl - Assume the Position 201 was pretty funny and informative, but your voice is really obnoxious. I shit you not.
• Dr. Phil - That's a topic for another entry.
• Anderson Cooper - You are prissy and smug. And I'm always suspicious of people with two last names.
• John Mayer - I don't really know much about you or your personality or viewpoints; I just hate you.
• Justin Timberlake - That all-American boy shit isn't winning me over.
• The Donald - Yet another reason why no one respects the nouveau riche. I hear your penthouse doesn't even have professional grade appliances.
• Nancy Grace - Stop. Seriously, just stop.
• Meredith Viera - A picture of you should be in the dictionary next to the word "insipid."
• Randy Jackson - You're just annoying, dawg.
• K-Fed, J-Lo, A-Rod... - Anyone with irritating catchy abbreviations should be stripped of their right to vote and own land.
• Gene Simmons - You're not as great as you think you are. You did not come up with a cure for rickets or polio and you didn't split the atom. You slept with a lot of chicks and had a few decent selling albums. Why are you so great?
• Spike Lee - You must have quite an ego to be playing Malcolm X.

There are too many others to list. Feel free to add names and a short explanation in the comments section. Note that the explanation can be as simple as, "I just really can't stand the guy."

Congratulations to Michael Moore. Out of thousands of obnoxious celebrities, you are numero uno! Treat yourself to a pint of Ben & Jerry's or two. You deserve it.

*Why is it so fucking hard to get rid of an annoying accent?

**I left out obvious candidates like Paulie Shore, Carrot Top, Star Jones, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton and friends, Richard Simmons, Bill O'Reilly, Ryan Seacrest, Jared the Subway commercial guy, Ann Coulter and countless others. Those are all self-explanatory.

Stealing candy from a baby

Almost every day on the subway, some delinquent gets on the train and starts in with a speech. "Hello ladies and gentlemen. I am not selling candy for a basketball team; I am selling candy to put money in my pocket so I can stay out of trouble. I have M&Ms and Skittles..."

That's great kid, but if you really want to stay out of trouble, just stay the fuck out of trouble. How hard is it? You already realize that you are prone to trouble and you claim to want to stay out of trouble, so just do that and leave us alone. How could an extra $5 in your pocket a day keep you out of trouble? I don't get it. The last thing this city needs is a bunch of little thugs and thugettes running around with a pocketful of cash. Go to school, go to work, go to church (there's not much trouble there I hear), play basketball, join the choir, play tiddlywinks - whatever. There are a fuckload of resources available to you in this city that do not involve solicitation. The Big Brother program, Boys & Girls clubs, church youth groups, the YMCA. Don't let rich kids have all the fun. If you see a drug deal or a shooting, go somewhere else. It's that simple.

For instance, if I want to stay out of the sun, I stay out of the sun. I wear sunscreen, stay indoors during midday and generally be sensible about it. I DO NOT steal candy and then try to get my fellow straphangers to buy it to put money in my pocket so I can afford to do indoor activities. Even if I have no choice other than to be outside, I would try to stay in the shade.

And another thing, I think I would rather support a legitimate basketball team than your personal quest to stay out of trouble. At least I could help an entire team stay out of trouble instead of just you.

If you truly want to stay out of trouble, just do it. I think that's the slogan of your favorite sneaker brand.

East Egg vs. West Egg

Every year around this time I reread The Great Gatsby, like every good American should. It's one of the few traditions I actively partake in and encourage others to also embrace. I seem to get something different out of it each time I read it.

This year, I started thinking about names and how important they are in high society. In an early part of the novel, F. Scott Fitzgerald listed the names of guests at one of Mr. Gatsby's soirees*. Some of the names signified wealth and status (Chester Baker, Daisy and Tom Buchanan, Dr. Webster Civet, S.B. Whitebait, the Hammerheads and the Belugas, Stonewall Jackson Abram and the Chrystie family). These people were all residents of the more fashionable East Egg. (Gatsby and Nick Carraway lived in West Egg which was mostly new money.) The names listed all have cache. Chester Baker sounds refined and catchy. Daisy Buchanan is the perfect name for a woman of beauty and wealth. Dr. Webster Civet is well educated and sophisticated (Civet is French). Stonewall Jackson Abram is obviously named after the Southern Civil War hero. S.B. Whitebait, the Hammerheads and the Belugas have strong ties to the sea. Those that were familiar with the ocean were considered of a higher social class than the average American, as ocean travel reflected culture and common beach trips, in many cases, reflected wealth. And anyone who is anyone enjoys Beluga caviar on a Ritz cracker. Notice even the Chrystie family, with a seemingly average name, decided to jazz it up a bit with a "y" spelling.

On the other side of the spectrum, the novel is filled with less tony sounding names. Myrtle Wilson (the woman that Daisy ran over in Gatsby's flashy Rolls Royce) sounds downright homely in the same way that her working-class husband's name, George Wilson, sounds. Mr. P. Jewett, despite the first initial in lieu of a full name, is clearly Semitic as is Clyde Cohen. The Catlip family doesn't sound particularly highfalutin and neither does S.W. Belcher (despite the initials), George Duckweed (may as well be Dickweed) and Miss Haag. All of these people are obviously West Eggers with the exception of the Wilsons. They lived somewhere around Flushing, Queens altogether.

This all got me thinking about my own name and how I would like to change it. After all, Jay Gatsby was born as James Gatz into a poor Midwestern family. Little Jimmy Gatz was determined to make it big - and he did until his unfortunate demise. I, too, wish to make it big, but my overly Italian last name seems to be holding me back. The problem with my last name is that it is too ethnic (Italian) sounding and lacks a pedigree. Another thing I dislike about it is that I can't name my kids the WASPy names they deserve such as Abigail, Brantforth, Farnsworth or Carter. I also will never be able to get into any decent country clubs and co-ops with a name like mine. So I think this week I'm going to go to the town hall to officially change my last name to Tillinghast, after the noted golf course architect A.W. Tillinghast. I can't imagine a more pedigreed sounding name. It reeks of old money and WASP heritage, the kind where you can trace your family roots back to the old country (that old country being England). At the end of the day, nobody respects new money.** I certainly don't even though I am not from any money, old or new.

It's not that I dislike Italian culture - it's the Italian-American culture that I have a problem with. And TV shows like the Sopranos have only made it worse. Italian-Americans are now trying to talk, dress and act like Paulie Walnuts, even though his character is an exaggeration of how Mafioso Italians from New Jersey act. I love Italian culture - the food, the wine, the art, architecture, but the Americans have all but destroyed it with their nouveau riche sensibilities and overall tastelessness. (Take a ride through Bloomfield, NJ or Dyker Heights, Brooklyn around Christmastime to see what I mean.)

So, if I have time, by Labour Day, my surname will be Tillinghast and I will have to start living the part. As it stands, I count no fewer than 172 Polo by Ralph Lauren items in my wardrobe, so I already have a pretty good start. By the way, Ralph Lauren, who exemplifies old money Anglo culture, was born in the Bronx as Ralph Lifshitz, the son of an Ashkenazi Jewish immigrant house painter. Ralph Lauren, despite all his success, would still only be accepted in West Egg.



*Many of these characters are never mentioned beyond that point.
**It's my blog so I make up the rules.

Pimpin'

I would make a great pimp. I am really convinced of this. I would run it like any other business and the girls would love. They could come to me with their problems and I could offer solutions and/or support. I would not just be their boss, but also their friend. I would never beat on them or refer to them as "hos" or any other derogatory term. I would bring coffee. We would chat about local politics, restaurant openings and the weather. It would be a really pleasant environment because, well, I'm a really pleasant individual.

I would start them out at a 50/50 split with a possible draw against future tricks and if they get really good, 60/40, 70/30 and 80/20. They would come in the office to see me and chat and get ready for their day. I would be dressed in smart casual attire while I water the plants around the office. Their appointments will be all set up and logistics taken care of such as transportation, safety issues and prophylactic rubbers.

I would never demand money or sexual favors either, which I hear traditional pimps do. No, I will show my girls respect and they will respect me. We would be like a small family. Every working girl in the tri-state area will want to work for me, but I would keep it as a relatively small agency. I won't even charge any desk fees and I will pay for advertising in the back pages of the Village Voice. And there will always be plenty of Poland Spring on hand. I obviously wouldn't be in this for the money. It's all for the girls and their satisfied clients. If all pimps were like me, prostitution would be legalised* in the United States.


* I often use the European spellings of words, replacing "z" with "s" and adding a "u" to color (colour). This is so I can appear to be worldly and sophisticated.

Question of the Day

When is Staten Island going to finally secede from the Union?

Pass the Zoloft

For some reason, whenever I hear of any place being described as one of the "fastest growing" anything, it depresses the hell out of me. Take the suburbs outside of Las Vegas for example. All that development really depresses me and not because they are destroying all that crappy desert, but for reasons I can't even articulate. All I can say is that there isn't enough fucking Zoloft in the universe to get me to move to the 33rd fastest growing metropolitan area in the nation. These communities are filled with hideous newly constructed homes where middle class people can enjoy their faux pro stainless steel appliances and neutral carpeting and ceramic tile only 45 minutes from the "strip" in a Pathfinder.

I even saw a place with a name like Shitwater, Arkansas on an infomercial trying to get people to invest. Shitwater, Arkansas is, you guessed it, the 208th fastest growing resort area in the the deep South. It's just beautiful there with golf, tennis, boating and happy retirees that can't afford Boca. In fact, it's the perfect setting for a minimum security prison.

Other areas that depress me include the suburbs of Atlanta - a perfect example of sprawl, the areas just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina (lots of vinyl siding, LOTS of vinyl siding) and especially The Villages (central Florida's premier active adult community). The Villages even has its own advertising campaign on national television. The commercials portray very active adults living a life of leisure and usually air on Sundays during golf tournaments. (I watch a lot of golf so I know more about The Villages than I want to.) I would rather live on any Martin Luther King Boulevard in the country than any of the aforementioned places.

Not that I am in any position to judge as I have never visited these places and have no reason to. The point is, if a town or area needs to advertise on TV, it's going to be downright awful. (There are no infomercials about the East Village and DUMBO.) I am sure that the people that inhabit these places are perfectly content on the surface, but don't they deserve more than an 1,8o0 square foot modular home on a 100x100 lot with no trees in sight?

Thank you for reading Gentry or Not, the 1,276th fastest growing web log in the greater Carroll Gardens/Red Hook area.

Question of the Day

If all these yuppies and hipsters are so anti-corporate and pro-Mom 'n Pop, then why is Starbucks packed every day of the week?

B61 Blues

On any given day, when I look around at my fellow passengers on my jaunt from Van Brunt Street in Red Hook to Court Street in Cobble Hill, I can usually count how many gentrifiers there are, myself included, on one hand. Usually, it's me, a hipster chick with an ipod, a zoned-out guy with long hair, retro glasses and Chuck Taylors and 25 non-gentrifiers. Today, I was the only individual on the bus with an affinity for arugula. I found myself wondering if my fellow commuters noticed me and and count the gentry as well. My question is: Is this normal behavior? Am I the only person who places people into two distinct categories and mentally identifies each individual encountered in public as either gentry or non-gentry?

The thing is, I need to know. This is why I'm different. If I am in doubt about a woman I am sitting next to on the Manhattan bound 4 Express train, I will glance down to see what she is reading or perhaps ask her a question to see if she has an accent*. All of these factors come into play when deciding the status of an individual.

It would be too easy to place all Asians into one category and all whites into another so I have compiled a list of FAQs regarding categorizing people.

Q: I live in Carroll Gardens and my neighbors are Italians who have lived in the neighborhood for generations. They are generally quiet, clean and friendly, but they have strong Brooklyn accents, the men have slicked back hair and the women are excessively tan even in the winter. Are they of the gentry class?

A: No. The gentry class regards people like these as fixtures who add color and charm to their neighborhood. Plus they make great fresh mozzarella and have the best prosciutto. It's too bad that Vinny has to talk to his wife that way though.

Q: I saw this couple standing outside of a bar in Red Hook smoking cigarettes. They were both covered in tattoos and cursing. They surely can't be part of the gentry, can they?

A: Actually they are. They are artists and/or musicians who inhabit gritty industrial neighborhoods in search of raw loft space in which to create their ever-so-edgy art.

Q: What about that chick I saw at the Park Slope Food Co-op that doesn't shave her pits?

A: Two clues to help you with this: Park Slope and Food Co-op. Obviously gentry.

Q: The very well-dressed black man decked out on Sunday morning in Bed Stuy, complete with a handkerchief in his pocket, gold cuff links and a feather in his hat. Anyone that meticulously dressed must be gentrified, right?

A: No. The gentry class believes in understated fashions.

Q: That really butch, tough-talking lesbian who swills all that beer. She's way too gruff to be gentrified, right?

A: Actually not. Most (not all) gays and lesbians fall into the category of gentry.

So, are you beginning to see a pattern? No? Stay tuned. You will. If you have any additional questions about people you have seen or even people that you know, please feel free to ask in the comments section.

*As a rule, people with strong accents usually fall into the non-gentry category, with the exception of European and Midwestern accents. Southern accents can sound quaint and charming as well.

Call me Mr. Brownstone

It's difficult at my age to figure out what to do with my life in terms of a career (and an overall way of being). I have given thought to just about every viable option. I have decided that I do not have a head for numbers and really do not want to put up with all the macho head games and adolescent hi jinx associated with Wall Street and its brethren, so finance is out of the question. I have considered law school, but am not willing to sacrifice three years of my life and hundreds of thousands of dollars for something I probably won't excel at. I even thought about trying to finagle funds out of my parents to buy a bar in Carroll Gardens and turn it into yet another establishment for yuppies and hipsters to get plastered and quote the New York Times verbatim. Maybe I could do a whole zen thing and get into feng shui and acupuncture. What about joining a community garden or an improv group? Is the answer more schooling, a career advisor, entrepreneurship?

No, the answer is simple and much like becoming a realtor, it requires no postgraduate degree and no apparent skills - just desire. The answer is one word: Junkie. I could become a junkie! I discovered this whilst watching an HBO documentary called Methadonia. It followed a group of recovering addicts who are currently being treated with Methadone.

Why didn't I think of that seven years ago? I could have saved my parents $130,000 on schooling and used that money to start building an inventory of smack. That's gotta go a pretty long way, right? What does a bag go for these days? $20, $30 at the most? A few of those a week and I'm on the road to the American dream.

You may ask why a seemingly normal, educated, middle class individual with a fairly comfortable lifestyle would choose to get involved with heroin. That is a valid question. The answer lies in the fact that junkies never seem to be too concerned about anything. And they get to nod off during the day without really being noticed. They only have one objective in life and that is to find more dope! That's it. It's like being a little kid again when all you care about is candy and that's what your entire life is based around: acquiring candy. Non-junkies have way too many things to deal with - career, romantic pursuits, dysfunctional families, tipping, whether or not to bring a gift when the invitation explicitly says not to bring a gift, squabbling over inheritance, car insurance, health insurance, utility bills, the proposed commuter tax, the war on terror, the upcoming election, hygiene, mortgage rates, the Dow Jones industrial average, carcinogens in our air, our failing schools and saving Darfur. Below is a partial list, in no particular order, of things I personally would no longer worry about if I became a full blown junkie.

• Leaving my sunroof ajar


• Improper grammar and usage


• People that do not use turn signals


• The Sirius/XM merger


• Natural stone vs. composite countertops


• The elasticity of my socks


• The scratches on my rear bumper


• Parking


• How much to tip the cleaning lady


• The traffic on the Gowanus/BQE combination


• Pasta that is cooked beyond the desired al dente


• My putting


• That lambswool sweater that I accidentally put in the wash last year instead of getting it dry-cleaned


• The fact that I can't afford an Aga stove


• How irritating the nouveau riche are


• The tyranny of the papacy


• Germs


• Running out of Yardley French Lavender soap and having to resort to Irish Spring


• Keeping my cast iron grill pan properly seasoned


• Obtaining the perfect inside-out golf swing


• That sociopath that lives next door


• The lady that runs the antique store down the street that gave me a less than welcoming greeting a few weeks ago


• Whether or not Big Love is returning for a third season


• My outrageous Con Edison bills (and the fact that Con Ed is making a GODDAMN fortune this summer)


• My disdain for visible balconies and air conditioning units in condo buildings


• If alternate side of the street parking regulations are in effect


• Ball flight patterns of my long iron shots


• Sirens, horn honking and loud cars blasting loud music


• The lack of amenities in and around Victorian Flatbush


• The long lines at Momofuku


• My jealousy of those bastards who own townhomes in Brooklyn Heights


• The fact that Delta flights into JFK can either come into Terminal 2 or 3 and American flights 8 or 9 and not all Jet Blue flights are necessarily out of Terminal 6


• Frank Gehry's bizarre vision for Atlantic Yards


• People that use "its" when it should be "it's" and "their" instead of "there"

And the list could go on and on, but perhaps I will add more at a later date. See, junkies just have no worries. They don't care where they sleep (and what thread count the sheets are), what they eat (if they eat for that matter), who they wake up next to, what they do with their leisure time and so on. I could not imagine a more carefree existence! It would be heaven. Where do I sign up? Is there a car allowance? Oh yeah and I hear the high is fucking incredible. What's not to like?

Gentry Redefined

Gentry: gen·try [jen-tree]
-noun
1.
wellborn and well-bred people.
2.
(in England) the class below the nobility.
3.
an upper or ruling class; aristocracy.
4.
those who are not members of the nobility but are entitled to a coat of arms, esp. those owning large tracts of land.
5.
(used with a plural verb) people, esp. considered as a specific group, class, or kind
6.
the state or condition of being gentleman.

Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

The above definitions are a bit antiquated and do not reflect the modernized gentry class that will be discussed in this blog. However, my personal definition is just that. Personal. These are my opinions based on my experiences and by observing our ever-changing society. I am going to focus on people in New York City, particularly Brooklyn because, well, that's where I live. I will make broad generalizations and contradict myself throughout the blog. I will make statements without backing them up.

I will be talking about a new type of gentry, one that is a bit more vague, less noble, more urbane and more tolerant (or at least seemingly) of others. They are educated, worldly and (generally) liberal. They consist of people from all walks of life. Some are yuppies, some are hipsters, some defy classification. (The line between the two aforementioned groups is becoming thinner and thinner each day. That's why it is easier to just classify people into the two simple categories of gentry and non-gentry.) They are bankers, teachers, lawyers, doctors, artists, graphic designers, trustfunders, baristas (at that adorable place you get coffee at that has the most delectable scones and makes your organic soy latte just right), bartenders, scholars, non-profit employees, advertisers, shop owners (particularly quaint little places to buy artisinal soaps and candles if such things exist), etc. They are black, white, gay, straight, androgynous.

Today's gentry class obviously does not consist of middle-aged white men sitting around country clubs in navy blue blazers and khaki pants complaining about the government. They may, however be the children of those men who, much like their parents, like to sit around and complain about the government, but like to think they will actively change the government. They think globally and act locally*, are avid NPR listeners and New York Times readers. They are anti-corporate, anti-government, anti-(hell they're anti-everything) They believe in schooling and are supporters of the arts. They are atheist (or agnostic) but respect everyone's beliefs. They are diversity advocates but not necessarily in their proverbial backyards (although few if any would ever admit this prior to consuming two bottles of organic syrah from an African American woman winemaker.) Now you are saying to yourself. "He just described everyone in Park Slope/Carroll Gardens/Upper West Side/West Village/my own shitty section of town." Well yes I did. Yes I did. I will not even broach the subject of luxury baby strollers.

Of course there are members of the gentry class that are not nearly as self-righteous and hypocritical, but they're not as interesting to write about. More about them at a later time.

This blog is not just about the gentry and classes of people. It's about everything. I will share with you just about all my feelings and opinions on topics ranging from polygamy to methadone.

Welcome to Gentry or Not. Thanks for reading.


*No one actually does this.