Ninety-Six New York and Brooklyn Photos

Work has brought me to New York for the longest I’ve ever been. The weather has been unpredictable, though erring on spring. The food, lodging, and most other costs are high but soon to be reimbursed by my benefactors.

J and I were on the same flight out. We arrived late Friday night to find a man with a sign marked DAUM and long black Mercedes waiting for us. We rode quietly in the back of the quiet cabin, gawking at the night time view of the city from the Brooklyn Bridge. Immediately, San Francisco seemed as pondunk as Podunk.

Our hotel is in Tribeca. Besides the comfortable decor and delightful service, my room is full to a free snack bar and drink fridge. And the internet is free.

On Saturday morning, J and I walked across the Williamsburg Bridge to meet D and K for breakfast and a bike ride. We borrowed two sketchy abandoned bikes from their hall and took off south, hugging the waterline through Vinegar Hill, Dumbo and Red Hook. We turned back in Red Hook, passing through a massive Hasidic neighborhood and a blossoming street of brownstones to Prospect Park.

For dinner, we took the subway back and ate Southeast Asian.

Bag blossom.

Decorative wall.

Coolest garbage man in a ten block radius.

Fat men.


Inverse kangaroo.

Lonely delivery.

A pallet of carrots.

Flour and eggs.


The young graffiti artist.


Spontaneous liquor bottle disposal pit.

The well marked door to the underworld.

The target.

Crossing the Williamsburg.


Bridge security.

Williamsburg signage.

Date Ape and Happy Feet browse the internet.

Loud pipes.

Marked arches.

A powerful view without pier.

Turquoise rail.

Cherry blossoms.

The aloof pussy.

Easter paint.

Back door.

Padded tank.

Good Ol’ Domsey!

How many bikers does it take to fix a chain?

Classy bus shelter.

The eagle.

When you need workpant, you need Maferbo.

Abandoned admiral houses.

Another view.

A charming storefront in Vinegar Hill.

Static car.

Yellow car.


A view in Dumbo.

The Manhattan Bridge.

Test pumps.


Red Hook blocks.

Statue fishing.

Old street cars.

Ghost train.

Trailer trash.

The end of the route.

Riding through brownstones.


A loner.

Hasidic garage.

Raffle man.


On Sunday, we meet A for bagels and a walk on The High Line. For those unfamiliar with how NY serves you a bagel, imagine a delicious bagel slathered with a fist full of cream cheese and cut into sandwich like halves. Toast my bagel, please sir? Fogeddaboutit.


The alternate way of using an air mattress.

Special on foot longs.

J and A climb the stairs to The High Line.

Straddling hotel.

Another park view.

Caterpillar buds.

Blossoms and lamp.

The largest apartment.

The eagle emerges.

Park here.

The abandoned hospital.

Urban garden.


Secret vegetables.

Smoking sewer.

Ramen from Momofuku Noodle Bar.

Made in Indiana.



Menu browser.

The quietest spot in Chinatown.

Cool cat.

High stakes.

Rubber of all sorts.


Red horns.

Sunset of New Jersey.


Soccer stadium.

Windows: 95.

The table of a social butterfly.


The Hives, playing live.

Core sampler.

Dr. Fruit.

Yellow signs.

Golden unicorn.

Fit and finish.

Callinectes sapidus, AKA blue crab.

I’ve had fun wandering around, both pretending I live here and going on my solitary death marches. And despite a few busy days working during the week, I’ve tried to keep taking photos for an another excessive post.

Until then.

Archives for March, 2012
March 29th, 2012. Categories / New York

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