Archive for the ‘East River’ Category
Archives #007
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s the little things… like crossing your legs when sitting… that you miss when orthopedically challenged. The cast on my busted ankle is made of those fiberglass bandages which the Doctors like, and it’s both heavy and omnipresent. Even when asleep, you’re aware of it. Existential comfort is dearly wished for, even as the pain levels off.
This 2014 post details the existential dread I always experience while waiting for something interesting to happen, or for a subject to just pass in front of my lens.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The busted ankle event occurred roughly a month ago, which kicked off an interval of some of the most challenging weeks I’ve ever experienced. Pain, painkillers, the annihilation of personal dignity, and the loss of ability to take care of all the little needs which pop up during the course of your day. I’ll never take being able to use the bathroom freely for granted again, for instance, nor drop a pen on the floor without worrying about causing a dog related crisis.
In 2019, this post discussed the fact that I had grown jaded as far as all the cool stuff I used to see, on the regular, back at Newtown Creek and NY Harbor in general.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator is crunched up in a sitting position, and aching to get some exercise. My phone’s health app just informed me that I’ve taken 3,495% fewer steps than usual in the last month. Yesterday, my step count was 45. I miss taking photos and moving around big and interesting landscapes. Hell, I miss standing.
Another series of shots from a 2021 Amtrak trip, which were captured in Washington D.C., are contained therein this post from October 15th.
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Archives #002
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Day two of archive posts greets you, lords and ladies, as your broken but still humble narrator recovers from a fairly severe fracture of multiple bones in the ankle. My life at the moment isn’t much fun, and I’m sitting down all the time – which is anathema to one such as myself. It’s a bit like that Hitchcock movie ‘Rear Window’ here around HQ.
On this date in 2019, this post was published here, describing a minor adventure wherein I was riding on an all electric boat, and spotted the USCGC Katherine Walker anchored on the East River.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Thankfully, I don’t require the pain dulling medications anymore, which introduced a fog of narcotic haze into my thoughts. Attention spans of less than 10-15 minutes on that stuff. It’s good to be able to mentally focus again, although I’m still a little drug drunk after two weeks of opioids. Hangovers, amirite?
2018’s October 8 post was focused on me getting back to Astoria and negotiating one of MTA’s meltdowns, while needing to poop. I’ll point out that NYC isn’t a ‘City of Yes,’ it’s the city of ‘No, there aren’t any public toilets.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Trouble I’m having right now is how to occupy my mind. Boring, boring. I’ve found myself watching hour after hour of Police body cam videos, and can advise the citizenry on roughly 20 things not to do when the Cops show up. You don’t want to set the Cops off with #7 – spitting – for instance.
One of my tricks to avoid the madness of isolation during the pandemic months was to go ride the NYC Ferry, as described in this post from 2020.
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Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
doubtful alchemy
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned in prior missives, one last ride on the NYC Ferry was on my NYC bucket list to accomplish, before the big move to Pittsburgh. My pal Val and I had boarded the service in Queens and ridden the Astoria line boat southwards to Pier 11 in Manhattan, whereupon we then transferred to a Soundview line unit heading northwards.
The East River gave me a good day, for this last outing. The Queensboro Bridge was lit up all pretty like.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One thing I laugh about continually, since having arrived in Pittsburgh, is when the locals complain about traffic. There’s certainly road congestion here in Western Pennsylvania, but traffic? Look above, at the FDR Drive. That’s what traffic looks like. Pittsburgh traffic, even when it stacks up around the pinch points of tunnels and bridges at rush hour, still moves at 15-20 mph. Normally, it’s flying along at highway speeds. The average speed of a motor vehicle in NYC is 4.1 mph. …traffic…
Val and I had timed our afternoon out perfectly, as it turned out. Despite the complete lack of clouds in the sky, there were already hints of golds, oranges, and scarlets appearing in the early winter sunset.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After visiting one of the ferry’s stops at 34th street, the boat headed northwards. After 34th street, the Soundview boat moves into the westerly channel of the East River, found between Roosevelt Island and Manhattan, as it navigates north. This is more or the less the pathway that the ill fated General Slocum followed, all those years ago in 1904.
Next stop for the ferry is at East 90th street, nearby Gracie Mansion. The Astoria line stops here as well, and it’s one of the points where you can transfer between the two. Until they get wise to this exploit I’ve been taking advantage of, you’ve got a 90 minute period after activating your ticket during which you can transfer from one line to another. If you play your cards right and time it correctly, you can get from Soundview in the Bronx – nearby the Throgs Neck Bridge – all the way to Rockaway on $2.75.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the northern edge of Astoria pictured above, where thousands of people will be occupying newly developed luxury apartment houses within just a few years. It ain’t exactly prosaic that the City is putting this sort of population density in place along the waterfront, in an era when the term “managed retreat” is about to become quite familiar to most New Yorkers, but there you go.
Somebody else’s problem, as I now live on the side of a small mountain of coal and shale nearby three rivers, some 400 miles away from NYC.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
So many memories bounce about in my mind about the Hells Gate narrows area of the East River. Truly, this is one of the most amazing places, in a place known for being amazing. Don’t forget, for those of you who are staying in NYC, to stop and smell the roses every now and then. Gaze in wonder at the marvels, and appreciate the billions of hours of labor that they represent. Robert Moses didn’t build that bridge, tens of thousands of our grandparents did.
Mighty Triborough. The Hell Gate Bridge. Randall’s/Ward’s Island.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Soundview boat crossed under the two great bridges at Hells Gate, past Astoria Park, and continued north. Our plan, as it were, was to be riding southwards on the return trip at more or less the moment when the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself descended behind New Jersey. In the intervening period since shooting these photos, I’ve made a discovery or two which I’d like to share.
Turns out that the burning thermonuclear eye DOES NOT descend into New Jersey, as I’ve learned clear on the other side of that state. Recent observation has suggested to me that it instead descends somewhere else, perhaps even behind the State of Ohio.
More astronomical discoveries, and other updates tomorrow…
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
standard works
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
November 22nd was a busy day, and one that was full of “last times.”
My pal Val and I met up and headed over to the East River for my last ride on the NYC Ferry. As mentioned in the past, one absolutely refuses to write one of those cliché soliloquies which New Yorkers feel hell bent to offer when they finally leave NYC.
I’ve lived my whole life in this crazy place. School, career, friends and foes, love and loss – all of it happened here. For broad ranging criticisms of how the City functions, its endemic corruptions or temptations or dangers – all of that – just read through the archives linked to just to the right of this text. There’s posts in that list which span back to 2009 that will spell out my various opinions on the milieu.
Saying that, on our way to the boat, I got to grab a shot of the Real Estate people’s minions at work, demolishing yet another small business’s premises in order to make room for luxury waterfront condos.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Nobody in my world could believe it when I said that I would be moving at the end of 2022. “C’mon Mitch,” where are you going to go? What will you do? You’re “Mr. Newtown Creek!” Why Pittsburgh?
The escape plan for Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself, one we hatched during the COVID isolation months, has played out over the last 14 months or so. We started with the question “what do you want?” This allowed for the creation of a data set built around these wants, one which could be sought and pursued. That’s when the question of “who are you” and “what do you need” took primacy.
I’m a city boy – so urban, and given the stage of life Our Lady and myself are entering, pretty decent health care resources coupled with a quieter form of life that offered fewer existential dangers due to living cheek by jowl with the random madmen who howl on the other side of the wall. Pittsburgh, in the final analysis. offered the “wants, where’s, and who’s” we were looking for in “Act 3.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
First tasks involved solving a few paperwork issues on my end. An expired drivers license’s replacement was complicated by a similarly expired passport. That was January. By April, I had solved both problems. Next up, we needed to buy a vehicle, since you can’t live in “America” without a car. Research, consciously saving the cash for a down payment all year, and a couple of car rentals later – the Toyota RAV4 had risen to the top of my list, and an order was placed for a new one with the Queensboro Toyota outfit on Northern Boulevard. It wouldn’t end up arriving until the week before Halloween, due to the supply chain problems, but that fit our timeline.
In September, I began to quit jobs, and sever my ties with the various organizations that I was associated with. First one to go was Community Board 1 in Astoria, where I was the Transportation Committee Chair. For those of you interested in serving on a CB, it’s definitely worth the effort, and there is a “Jeffersonian responsibility” to participate in the mechanics of the Democracy but there’s also a whole lot of bullshit you have to put up with – mainly from your fellow board members.
I next rolled up my business with all of the non profits that I either worked with, or was on the board of, over the next two months and made arrangements for a few “goodbye” moments like the Fireboat trip mentioned a couple of weeks back.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Riding the NYC Ferry one last time was on my list of “have-to’s.” Particularly during the COVID interval, access to the ferry has been nepenthe for me. For just a few bucks, you can get out on the waters of NY Harbor for a bit, and if you time it correctly – be out there for sunrise or sunset during the flood tide when the rivers are thick with maritime traffic. Photographer paradise. Particularly this photographer.
When I told my pal Val (also a photographer) that I wanted to do this trip, she insisted on coming along for one last go.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
All year, I was telling my friends that when things got to late November, things would be moving at a thousand miles an hour. My prediction was correct. I had to work doubly hard for the five days or so leading up to the 22nd in order to buy enough time to get this day off. Boxes to pack, cupboards to be emptied. All that. I got lucky as far as weather goes.
The plan for late November and early December included spending about a week at the new address in Pittsburgh, where I’d be driving Our Lady of the Pentacle and some bare essentials out to Pittsburgh in order to set up housekeeping in the new digs. After a week or so, I’d need to drive back to Queens to handle the final stages of the move and supervise the moving crew, leaving Our Lady of the Pentacle out west in the new PA house while doing so.
After the movers left the Astoria HQ, I’d have to drive back out to Pittsburgh on my own, this time with a carload of hard drives and camera gear, which I don’t trust anyone else to handle. Thereby, in an 8 day period, I ended driving something close to 1,600 miles with all the back and forth. Post facto, this is all kind of a blur for me at this point.
This ferry day in November was, thereby, my last dance with the East River in NYC. It’s so weird saying that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I know what’s in those blue boxes on the barge, can describe what the bottom of that tugboat’s hull looks like, and there’s also a story I can offer about each and every thing in the frame. The sort of knowledge I’ve gained in the last twenty or so years can be suffocating.
Want to hear about the time that Mose the Fireboy, the legendary giant of the 19th century “Gangs of New York” era Bowery B’hoys, wrestled a serpent out of the water here at Corlear’s Hook? How the skin of the water monster was draped over the bar mirror at McGurk’s Suicide Palace on the Lower East Side near St. Mark’s? How about the Constellation fire at the Navy Yard? The Sewer Rats gang who would paddle out to anchored ships at night to rob them at knife point? General Slocum, as in the politician whom they named the infamous excursion boat for? Boss Tweed, who lived in George Washington’s Presidential Mansion on Cherry Street in Manhattan, a few blocks back from the water?
More tomorrow…
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
forward slumping
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The thing which a humble narrator is currently obsessing about, while you’re reading this, involves finding a job in the Pittsburgh area. There’s entire sections of my work life that are simple to describe – there’s a “Madison Avenue” advertising resume I can present, and I used to write and draw comic books as well as package other people’s stuff for publication so there’s that too. My photographer resume ain’t terribly shabby, nor is my tour guide one, and I can write stuff too. The question I’m struggling with is how to combine all of what I can do under a single job title, and does that position even exist in Pittsburgh? How on earth do I describe Newtown Creek Alliance and the constellation of federal and state agencies I help deal with all the time?
According to Jerry Seinfeld, most Americans would rather die than speak in public. Me? Easiest thing in the world, if you have something worth saying.
Existential crises are best experienced in September, I believe. Sweatshirt weather.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I like pondering things while I’m shooting photos, always have.
That’s the tug Joker that I pointed out in last Friday’s post, in an aerial shot captured at the One World Trade Center Observation Deck. Joker was docked at the concrete company which operates along the Williamsburg waterfront at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The barge full of sand makes a lot of sense, thereby.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There was also an agglutination of maritime cranes and all sorts of heavy equipment on display at the Navy Yard as the NYC Ferry’s Astoria line boat which I was riding on made one of its appointed stops at the venerable campus. It was a pretty nice day, if memory serves – August 19th. Fairly hot, but not horrific.
I’ve announced to anybody who will listen that I have no intention whatsoever of getting close to anything remotely non-profit or governmental in Pittsburgh, but that probably means that… crap.
Really, I just want a normal gig where I do mildly interesting photoshop stuff for some company all day, and then go home. Collect a salary 9-5, live for the weekends. An American sort of life.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What we have here in NYC is not an American form of life. NYC is an archipelago nation state that’s found off the coast of America, not an American City. Life here is quick and often fun, but it’s also mean and short. In America, there’s no “finding an open bodega” at 3 a.m. Transit, as we know it in NYC, does not exist beyond a daytime schedule and is extremely limited in scope. Adapting my frenetic “get it done” energy to the local frequencies on the other side of my move is going to one a real challenge.
Luckily, I feel like I’m a thousand years old and a medium strong wind will shatter me into sand particles. I could end up like Manhattan’s East River Park, pictured above. Annihilated.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just the other night, somebody said to me that “of course, you’re going to be coming back regularly to do Newtown Creek tours.” That part of my life is over, I’m afraid. I’m planning on doing one last burst of them in October and November, but no.
I have to remember to include being a NYC Parade Marshal for the centennials of Queensboro, Manhattan, Hunters Point Avenue, and Madison Avenue bridges on my resume. Oh yeah, the Community Board thing too, as well as the non profit stuff too.
Dear Nelly, who am I? What am I? Why am I?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As I mentioned, existential wonderings are on the menu right now.
The NYC Ferry dropped me off in Astoria, nearby Hallets Cove. My foot was hurting, so I limped over to a nearby bus stop and rode the thing back to HQ. Planes, trains, automobiles – that’s me.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 