If you find yourself in the neighborhood — Sheepshead Bay, that is — follow Mitch's recommendation of the roast beef “au jus” sandwich, and be sure to have them pile on the (free) onions and extra gravy.
“Something happened during the Bloomberg era, however. 'Gubmint' jobs suddenly accrued a new status and the suits from corporate America began to talk about 'service.' They took the pay cut, accepted a position at this agency or that, and began applying the rules of business to government policy. . . .
“Thing is, most of these 'Gubmint' people aren't from 'here,' and they seem to regard New York City with a thinly veiled disgust. For example – remember when Dan Doctoroff described the Sunnyside Yards as 'a scar' he saw from his office window in Manhattan a couple of years ago? . . . [W]hat in hell does Dan Doctoroff know about life in working class Queens?”
In a July Newtown Pentacle post, “tinkling flames,” Mitch finished up his tale of an excursion to Brooklyn's Sheepshead Bay by sharing his discovery that a cherished haunt of his Canarsie youth “is still there, at the corner of Emmons and East 29th, just where I left it . . . And inside of RnR, nothing has changed since the 1980’s, except for the prices.”
As I've said here a number of times, Mitch Waxman's Newtown Pentacle blog is the one blog I follow rigorously, reading every damned post, Monday through Friday. I don't know anybody who gets more mileage out of the basic blog tools of words and pictures — a resource set, he has pointed out to me, that he has been using dating back to his former life as a creator of comic books. Keeping up with The Newtown Pentacle is made easier and more rewarding by the fact that you never know what's going to set Mitch off on any given day.
For example, in the July post “tinkling flames” Mitch finished up his account of an excursion from his current home base, Astoria, Queens, to Brooklyn's Sheepshead Bay by sharing the delighted discovery that a cherished haunt of his Canarsie youth –
is still there, at the corner of Emmons and East 29th, just where I left it. And inside of RnR, nothing has changed since the 1980’s, except for the prices.
Don't think for a moment that that didn't burrow deep into my brain. And sure enough, the next time I found myself within striking distance of the shrine — one day in September when I'd journeyed out beyond Sheepshead Bay to Plumb (or “Plum”; the point is hotly contested) Beach to participate in a beach cleanup organized by NYC H2O and one or two other environmental groups in conjunction with the National Parks Service — I had it in mind all day that the distance from Plumb (or Plum) Beach to Roll n Roaster should be eminently walkable. And when the time came, rather than continuing to await the delayed arrival of our promised lunch (tacos, wasn't it?), you better believe I struck out for the hallowed corner of Emmons Ave. and E. 29th St. And when I got there, I remembered Mitch's report, in picture (click to enlarge) and words –
I passed on the lemonade — and the cheese fries (it was only late September, after all) — but indeed went for the roast beef sandwich, and while I was devouring it, by studying the changing menu video screens I discovered that at no extra charge I could have had both onions and extra gravy. I've stored that information away for the next time I'm in the vicinity, and by “vicinity” I mean to draw fairly wide boundary lines.
MOST OFTEN, OF COURSE, MITCH CAN BE FOUND
AMBLING ABOUT HIS BELOVED NEWTOWN CREEK
On land or water, camera in hand, with varying amounts of camera gear in stowed in the bag he's schlepping. I've reported frequently on Mitch's wanderings, and you can sample those reports as well as the photographs that accompanied them by hitting the tag below.
Which brings us to today's post, “leaden jars,” in which we encounter Mitch in his “outer borough” voice — a Brooklyn lad now transplanted to western Queens, which is now undergoing rapid transformation at the hands of moneyed Manhattan-based elites who don't know or care anything about it except that it's one of the city's current best places to enrich their kind beyond most of our wildest imaginings, without any concern for the people who live there now — or how the rich people being deposited there are going to live without any serious infrastructure investment to make life there livable.
The story is told so elegantly and powerfully that I wouldn't dare presume to paraphrase or edit it.
Failure is often the only option, in today's post.
One has been on a holy tear of late on the real estate development and gentrification situation here in Western Queens. I've been pissing off a bunch of people I know in government by doing so, and have received the usual “who do you think you are?” accusations and chides. My standard response is “I'm a citizen, and how dare you act like some sort of landed gentry towards me when ultimately all you've got is a government job.” It was common sense when I was growing up that taking a government job (as opposed to working for a corporation) was all about the security and pension benefits. What you didn't get in terms of annual salary today, you'd get back in the long term during retirement. In my neighborhood – DSNY was considered a good career bet, as well as becoming a teacher, as they had the strongest Unions with the best “bennys.” My pal “Special Ed”'s dad told us all that we should seriously consider becoming court bailiffs.
Of course, that's my “working class” outlook at work, and back then the gub'mint wasn't the pathway one took in pursuance of eventually securing a high paid corporate consultancy job.
Something happened during the Bloomberg era, however. “Gubmint” jobs suddenly accrued a new status and the suits from corporate America began to talk about “service.” They took the pay cut, accepted a position at this agency or that, and began applying the rules of business to government policy. Now, don't get me wrong, these are pretty clever folks and the amount of brain (and Rolodex) power they brought with them to lower Manhattan is impressive. Problem being, they have an inherently profit based modus operandi due to their experiences in the “real world.” The “Gubmint” ain't supposed to turn a profit.
Thing is, most of these “Gubmint” people aren't from “here,” and they seem to regard New York City with a thinly veiled disgust.
For example – remember when Dan Doctoroff described the Sunnyside Yards as “a scar” he saw from his office window in Manhattan a couple of years ago? Mr. Doctoroff was born in Newark, but grew up in Birmingham, Michigan and then attended Harvard University. A suburb of Detroit, the demographics of Birmingham are 96% Caucasian (according to the 2000 census), and a mere 1.6% of the population of Birmingham lives below the poverty line. The median income for a household in that city in 2000 was $80,861, and the median income for a family was $110,627. Not exactly East New York, or the South Bronx, or Astoria. Mr. Doctoroff is famously Michael Bloomberg's right hand man and the fellow who ran Bloomberg LLC while his boss was Mayor, and is accordingly quite affluent. He's the very definition of the “one percent” and a leading member of the “elite.” I don't imagine Mr. Doctoroff goes fishing in his penny jar for bagel money when it's the Thursday before payday, has never had to “borrow from Peter to pay Paul,” or lived in financial fear that the City DOB might impoverish him with an unexpected order to repair or replace his concrete sidewalk.
In other words, what in hell does Dan Doctoroff know about life in working class Queens?
Doctoroff and his cohorts created the term “affordable housing” which the current Mayor has made his own. The question often asked is “affordable by who”? The Citizens Budget Commission boiled that down in this post from last year. The upshot of it is that in order to create this so called “affordable” apartment stock, which is unaffordable to the low income people it's meant to serve, the rent on “market” rate apartments actually has to go up to cover the cost. This redistribution of wealth hits the middle and working class on two fronts – higher monthly rents, and the application of their tax dollars to subsidize the real estate development which reluctantly includes the so called “affordable” units.
Personal experience from having actually grown up in NYC suggests that whomever the politicians and planners set out to “help” end up getting hurt.
Having grown up in what would be considered a “low income” family under modern terms, we members of the Waxman clan migrated to the outer edges of the City (Brooklyn's Canarsie section) where housing was found that we could afford. That's where relative affluence and dire poverty comingled, and created a culture. This was possible due to a preexisting infrastructure of subways and highways that allowed egress to and from the commercial center in Manhattan, but there were still plenty of jobs to be had locally. Manufacturing, commercial, shops. If you played your cards right, you could earn a living and never once have to go into the City. That's changed, and the ongoing loss of this manufacturing and commercial side of the working class economy is excaberated by this affordable housing craze which perceives any large footprint lot as being a potential development site.
If a building went up in the 1970's or 80's, which included low income housing, that had a separate entrance or “poor door” there would have been bloody riots.
The reason for that is the City planners and “Gubmint” officialdom were mostly native New Yorkers who lived in and were loyal to the neighborhoods they oversaw, and who understood that “it's not all about Manhattan.” Doctoroff and his acolytes see the City as the solution and not the problem. The looming infrastructure crisis this rapid development is causing will impoverish the City. A century ago, when the newly consolidated City of Greater New York was being similarly developed – the politicians built the subways and sewers first, then they sold off or awarded the adjoining properties at bargain prices to their cronies like Cord Meyer and Fred Trump.
The infrastructure investments made between 1898 and 1940 allowed NYC to grow beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Unfortunately, these days we are doing the opposite, and allowing the buildings to be erected first. The bill for all of the municipal machinery will come after the population loading is finished.
I GNASH MY TEETH WHEN SUPPOSEDLY SERIOUS
PUNDITS SUGGEST THAT THE BILLION-DOLLAR LOSER . . .
. . . has staked out a serious position with his stunning insight that our system is broken. The system is broken, of course, but nobody has done more to break it or to profit from the breakage. Oh, he might have in mind some shifting of the exact cast of 1-percent characters destined to pillage and plunder the economy in a Trump administration. But is there anything in his grotesque lifetime's worth of words or deeds to suggest that he has any interest in un-breaking the system, or in fact doing anything but exploit the gullibility of actual victims of the breakage in order to further service his seemingly limitless greed and boundless ego?
“When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross.” — Sinclair Lewis