Tag Archives: brooklyn

NYC

Important Backhoe Update!

Yesterday, I wrote of the exciting saga of the Inefficiently Employed Brooklyn Backhoe, which was being used to haul bulk trash from one project to another. I must report another sighting this morning.

I didn’t see the backhoe’s route this time, but I spotted it waiting outside the same trash lot as yesterday, again laden with junk. The junk appeared to be an old mattress, an oversized cardboard box that once held a TV, and several broken chairs. The backhoe couldn’t pull into the lot with the dumpsters because a very large flatbed truck was backed into the lot already, attempting to load the dumpsters and haul them away.

So the backhoe sat in the middle of York Street, in the wrong lane, with its hazards on, waiting patiently for the flatbed to be done with its business. Which, by the looks of it, would take quite a while.

I tell ya, when I’m in charge, things are gonna be different around here.

NYC

Two Unrelated Morning Idiocies

Walking up Gold Street this morning, passing through the projects, I saw a backhoe slowly chugging up the street alongside me. This is not an unusual sight in the neighborhood, since there’s an insane amount of road work going on.

Except for two things: It was brand new, nearly pristine John Deere backhoe, the kind you’d see on a farm. And it was laden down with junk.

The “hoe” part of the backhoe was filled with an old TV, broken kids’ toys, and a smashed-up sub-IKEA particle board furniture. The junk was arranged carefully, trying to make the best use of the space available in the hoe. But this still struck me as an extremely inefficient use of top-notch construction equipment.

It was also an extremely inefficient use of the roadways. Gold Street is all torn up from road work, leaving only one lane in either direction. So there’s no hope of getting around a backhoe traveling 12 miles an hour.

The backhoe made a left on York Street just as I did, and I decided that I had to see where this thing was going. It stopped halfway down the block, again blocking traffic, and waited for cars in the opposite lane to clear. Then it hopped the curb and drove into a project building’s trash lot, where all the dumpsters are kept.

So whoever runs this particular project decided two things:

(1) A backhoe makes a better trash hauler than a pickup truck, or a van, or any other regular vehicle.
(2) The dumpsters at this particular building are insufficient for the needs of this particular junk. I must truck it two blocks away, as slowly as possible, to another identical set of dumpsters.

Your tax dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen.

* * *

Shortly after this incident, I passed into the ritzier confines of Dumbo. I saw a gleaming red BMW with MD plates parked right underneath the Manhattan Bridge. I’ve driven to work many times, and I can tell you that you’ll see open parking spots like that about as often as you’ll see leprechauns. In fact, between the roadwork and the ridiculous alt-side restrictions, I usually wind up parking so far away from my office I may as well have walked from home. (This is how much I hate relying on the bus.)

So basically, this guy’s got everything in life working out just fine for him. Except that someone placed a banana peel on the car’s trunk.

This placement was not accidental, like someone was eating a banana and just tossed the peel casually, maybe hoping to start a silent film comedy cavalcade. The peel was at the exact center of the trunk, with the two halves splayed symmetrically.

I’m guessing someone saw the exact same thing I saw–brand new car, doctor’s plates, perfect free parking spot–and decided to throw some misfortune into his otherwise spotless life. Thank you, stranger, for making me smile.

NYC, Parental Guidance

Why You Should Never Buy Pricey Toys for Your Children

There’s one block of Flushing Avenue, right around Bedford, that’s completely torn up. And it’s been completely torn up since I started taking the bus to work.

The street is literally ripped open, with a huge, gaping hole cordoned off by an rickety wooden fence. You can see down inside, where months of rainwater have accumulated, leaving a lime green, radioactive scummy pond. Enormous segments of concrete sewer pipe lay on the sidewalk. They once had screens on their open ends that looked kinda like cheesecloth, but those were weathered away long ago, and their remnants flap in the breeze.

None of this crap has moved in at least 6 months. I don’t know who’s to blame: the city, or whatever slumlord started repairs and never finished them. But because of it, my bus gets trapped on this block every morning, thus making my commute far longer than it need be.

So this morning, while I’m stuck at this point, I see some Hasidic kids playing on the sidewalk. They’re taking cardboard box from the kosher grocery store across the street, and they’re trying to bale a puddle of dirty rainwater with it. They range in age from 4 to 8, and they look like they’re having the time of their lives.

I see this is in my own home. My daughter will play with a 10 cent hair scrunchie, or a paper towel roll, and have as much fun as she does playing with expensive Christmas presents. If not more.

So my parental advice is, exploit this childhood window while you can. Forget the Baby Einstein nonsense and get the kid an empty pallet of tissue boxes from behind the local Duane Reade. The kid won’t care, and you won’t have to cajole them to play with that hand-crafted wooden xylophone you wasted 30 dollars on.