Archive for 2013
splendid perfection
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
These gentlemen were observed recently, consumed by their labors fulfilling the Real Estate Industrial Complex’s dream of maximizing the urban density and population of Astoria.
As you can see, one of the fellows on this scaffold is leaning into his work, stretching his arm and twisting his spine in a manner which OSHA inspectors would likely disapprove of. The two men, and what would appear to be buckets of ready mix cement, are perched on a pedestal of three boards that are supported by the steel structure. Certain past occupations, jobs held when one was a younger and more vital narrator, demanded clamboring onto similar scaffolds and I can report that they are shaky albeit stable structures.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Even a small vibration, such as dropping a tool or merely the action of shifting weight from one foot to the other, will make these temporary and quite modular structures quiver and rattle.
Climbing up is simple, but descent leads to uncertainty and doubt when the towering temporary structure begins to rattle and groan. They are pretty safe, however, unless something or something drops from the platform. That can be messy.
I’ve always been a bit too prissy for this sort of work, not physically strong enough for the demands of such occupation, but my Dad wasn’t. The Old Man was forced to do a lot of stupid things at work, and more than once he would suddenly appear in the family home, back in the Flatlands, covered in blood and displaying torn clothing. All he would say would be “go get your mother,” followed by “go tell your Aunt to call your Uncle at work and tell him to take us at Maimonides (hospital.) Didn’t happen often, but when Pop came home at 11:30 a.m., either somebody fell of the scaffold or he did.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Never quite clear why the Old Man always had my Uncle drive him from the Flatlands to Borough Park for emergency repairs, but this would happen whenever he fell off a ladder or ran afoul of some mechanized tool. Once, he even had a pail of Lye splash into his face and he was blind for a few months. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but often enough. Dad wasn’t in a Union, and those injuries of his just kind of came with the chaotic environment of the work place. Such bad familial fortune made me keenly aware of the dangerous world inhabited by the “Working Guys,” and it shreds me when I see two laborers working like this. One of their kids is likely going to be told “go get your mother.”
That shape is the outline of a demolished house.
These guys are three stories over where the sidewalk should be and working without a wire. One of my neighbors is a Union guy and he sets up safety cones when unloading groceries from his car.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Excesses and corrupt practices in the world of Organized Labor are many, and varied, but here’s where the Union guys shine. First thing any of them do at work is put on a hard hat, goggles, and work shoes. They also would never, ever, do this without tying themselves off to a harness. Likely, they would insist on the use of some sort of specialized machine to raise and lower a work platform, and demand to use “best practice” techniques in completing the work- not because they want it to be expensive but because they want to do it right.
They wouldn’t be reaching out over a three story drop and splashing concrete around like Jackson Pollock. Not without a guy from the bucket winchers regional, 2 guys from the trowelers local 6, somebody to hold a caution sign, a crew from platform handlers national, and a few carpenters.
intently and shudderingly
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dissonant, the mad cacophonies of Western Queens often drive one such as myself beyond the brink of madness, and solace from this unending assault can only be found deep within the grounds of Calvary Cemetery. First Calvary, that is. To me, the name of the neighborhood which hosts the burial grounds of the Roman Catholics is aptly named, and Blissville is where one retreats to commune with the relative silence of the polyandrion.
Now, over the last few years, I have seen many strange and wonderful things, and witnessed places in New York City that only a select would even suspect to exist. I have seen dead animals of all sorts littering the streets, a few killed in rituals, but mostly from accidents. I have never seen a dead human being floating by in the rivers or the creeks, nor have I found some dude lying on the side of the road- I’m lucky like that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Imagine how excited I was, then, when this seeming casualty appeared on my jaunty stroll through First Calvary on a sunny March afternoon. Finally. That’s when the terror set in.
A question which a humble narrator often asks himself, when confronted with situations that require moral, legal, and philosophical contemplations is simply “How would I explain this to Judge Judy?.”
In the case of photographing a possibly deceased human (pondered as I shot these pictures so quite obviously one wasn’t exactly impaled on the horns of dilemma) do you photograph first and then call the cops? What exactly do you tell the cops? “Yeah… I do this blog… Yes sir, I walked here… No sir, nothing like that… Yes sir, Waxman with an x”… and so on?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As your humble narrator processed an answer which might be acceptable to both televised jurist and hard boiled gendarme, the corpse suddenly animated, its mouth parts bleating out a long and phlegmatic tone which reminded one most of snoring.
Deductive reason suggests that instead of dead, this fellow was merely asleep. A lovely place for a nap, despite the shocking suggestions offered by a prone positioned human laying stock still on the ground in a cemetery, as the sun was warm and bright, soft grass welcomes, and there is plentiful company. Below, three million lie.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The ground at Calvary is sown with “all too soon’s,” “should have been me instead’s,” and “why’s.” The soil is composed of the “they’ll never get to’s” and “cut down in their prime’s,” along with the good who died young and the bad who died old. If there is any place in New York City where one can sense that there very well might be a whole other side to existence that extends beyond the meat, it’s at Calvary.
Spending too much time here can be dangerous, a little over three hours usually does it, when a hypnagogic spell begins to infiltrate the mind of the visitor.
Lethargy and somnolence exert a pull inexorable, and afflicted day trippers experience a desire to just lay down on the ground… and nap.
“Just for a little while,” they will say. I always answer this with a single question.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What would one dream of, if they were to fall sleep in First Calvary Cemetery?
higher order
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Happy Monday Newtowniverians, and a healthy one is wished for all the Brooklynites and Queensicans out there.
Today’s post displays a couple of interesting shots I managed to grab before a meeting held at LaGuardia Community College for the Newtown Creek CAG.
This CAG is a sort of advisory/community group which has formed up around the edges of the EPA Superfund project. The CAG is a requirement for EPA, and they periodically convene a meeting to inform us about their activities and overall status of the process.
from epa.gov
A Superfund Community Advisory Group (CAG) is made up of members of the community and is designed to serve as the focal point for the exchange of information among the local community and EPA, the State regulatory agency, and other pertinent Federal agencies involved in cleanup of the Superfund site.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In this meeting, during which a presentation from the NYC DEP was offered describing a forthcoming dredging project on Newtown Creek, discussion of various issues surrounding the Superfund project between Federal officials and community representatives was offered. Everyone else in the room was a lettered professional or community leader or of high professional caliber, representing every conceivable office, power, and potentate involved in the Newtown Creek story.
Then there’s me, who kept on having his attention drift over to the Sunnyside Yard and the fantastic views of it at rush hour which I wasn’t photographing.
from newtowncreekcag.wordpress.com
Newtown Creek CAG membership is structured on a rolling basis. The Superfund process on Newtown Creek will take many years, and interested stakeholders are encouraged to become CAG members as they learn of and want to fully participate in the process.
The CAG is designed to serve as an ongoing vehicle for information-sharing, discussion, and, where possible, consensus-building regarding decision-making related to the Newtown Creek Superfund Site. Its members represent a diverse cross-section of key stakeholder interests, including affected property owners, concerned residents, local governments, community groups, environmental groups, health experts, the business community, and others as appropriate. Requirements and responsibilities for CAG members are described in the CAG’s Operating Procedures, posted in the Resources tab.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An odd duck, even after all these years, it is so strange to think that someone like me is even allowed in the building let alone invited to participate and offer both questions for correct answering and contribute direct observations of obscure places being discussed. The folks at EPA have shared some of their early findings, which have greatly excited the scientific minded and fired the imaginations of those who imagine a “greener” city. Check out the CAG site for details.
“out of your depth”- meaning: in water that is so deep that it goes over your head when you are standing: I’m not a strong swimmer so I prefer not to go out of my depth.
cunning mask
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Recently, a college student contacted me and asked if she might tag along on one of my walks around Newtown Creek. After enduring my usual admonishment toward the wearing of sandals, we met in Greenpoint and engaged In a generalized saunter around certain points of interest in what I refer to as “The Lower Creek,” specifically the area contained on both north and south banks between the Greenpoint Avenue and Pulaski Bridges. At the Newtown Creek Waste Water Treatment Plant Nature Walk in Greenpoint, we encountered the Captain Zeke tug.
Welcome back to Maritime Sunday at this, your Newtown Pentacle.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Captain Zeke has been discussed before, in the posting “average specimens” from February of 2012. The barges Captain Zeke was handling seemed to be headed for the Allocco dock whose street address is on Kingsland Avenue in Greenpoint. That would indicate that these barges are for moving bulk materials such as rock, gravel, or even scrap metals. From my vantage, I could not see any cargo in the barges, and they were sitting quite high in the water so they were likely empty.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After maneuvering their charge into place, the tug crew began moving around the boat, coiling rope and stowing away equipment. The tug reversed itself away form the barges and proceeded eastwards up the Creek to unknown destinations. In this case, the hearty Maritime Sunday shout out was offered in person, as the tug was less than 100 yards away from where my collegiate friend and I stood and the sailors onboard waved back.
As always, the thing in the Megalith watched on.
Project Firebox 66
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
“Bro, this thing has been on this corner since nobody knows how long, its furniture- y’know? This is, you know where, in Astoria on 38th and 31st, near the Souvlaki guy- the one with the smoke- in front of that Brazilian restaurant with the good coffee. C’mon Bro”.
Such local Astorian, or patois, would best delineate the position and surroundings of this exemplar of municipal service, the humble firebox, were it to be described by far more than one of my neighbors.
The Newtown Pentacle 