Tag Archives: Park Slope

A Love Letter

I fall from the curb one wheel at a time and stand up to push with all my pounds against the slope. It’s never easy.

Up 16th Street east away from the harbor, leaving the Statue of Liberty behind. Each block is a confused collection of old and young: peeling, window-barred houses in the shadow of six-story condo buildings with ten-foot windows. A Puerto Rican flag hung here two years ago. Now, Liverpool FC.

*****

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Invasive Species (They and Me and You)

I see the way they look at me and mumble a meek “Hi” as I duck into my renovated apartment in the building we share.

After all, they were here first. They lived through the days of glass-enclosed cashiers, barren after-dark avenues and the crime that made New York notorious. My Brooklyn — its craft beer bars, wine shops and organic groceries — isn’t their Brooklyn.

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Vacation

In my six years of living in transplant-centric locations (Lawrence, Kan., and Brooklyn, N.Y.), I’ve come to cherish one of life’s more underappreciated delights: Staying put for the holidays.

Back in Lawrence, some of my favorite times included window-down drives on relatively empty summer-evening streets, enjoying the solitude of the Student Rec Center during its reduced summer hours and running the hills of the car-free streets just north of campus before the summer heat hit near mid-day. Staying in a snowpacked and silent Lawrence over winter break felt like being in on a beautiful secret that the rest of the world only stumbled upon twice a week at Allen Fieldhouse.
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Marathon

At Mile 7, an older woman read the shirts as they sped past.

“Go Juan! Go Michael! Go David! Go Julio! Go…Peru!”

***

Two blocks south, a stout policewoman stood atop the raised median of Fourth Avenue, her uniform a blue-black silhouette against a brown Best Western wall.

Her hands swayed from waist- to chest-level as she issued a slow and steady clap for the droves streaming past on either side.

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