Record & Tape Center

I certainly hope this shop never gets a makeover. A door like this was something I couldn't pass by that day, so I went in for the first time. I have a feeling Tony, who runs the shop, has a few stories to tell, from the look of the door, from the fact that he's been in business there for 41 years.Maybe I'll get him to tell me some, but that day, he just sang me a little tune about telling stories, and sold me some picks.

Chilly 9th and 5th

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Found this on a walk down 5th Avenue this morning. I don't think the words have ever sounded so good. Emphasis on delivered. I know my timing's off, but I think this still hits the spot. God Bless America.

Tingles on Fifth

I got new glasses today from Eyewear on Fifth. When I went in the first time, I was reminded of that NYT article about Park Slope where someone complains that Park Slope is filled with English teachers. That was because the man being helped ahead of me told the proprietor that his name was English. And when asked, he had to admit, that yes, he was an English teacher. My friend calls that nomen est omen, she's the only person I've ever heard use that phrase.

Today I went back and picked up my glasses and put them on. I was with my three year old who gave me a look of disgust and told me in no uncertain terms that she didn't like them. My oldest said the same thing, pretty much, in a much more tactful way. I like my new glasses, though.

Kids are pretty harsh critics of their moms' appearances. I was wearing overalls the other day and my son asked me why I was wearing those weird pants. And I told him I was wearing them because I looked adorable in them. He said no you don't, you look horrible. I insisted that I looked adorable, but he maintained that I was nothing short of a disaster. And I have to admit, I don't think I'll be wearing my overalls again any time soon. Unless it's time to be a disaster, and sometimes, it seems, it is time for that.

After we got my glasses today we went into a bargain store on 5th Ave to find a new backpack for my daughter. They didn't have those. They did have this:


















Never heard of that before. Then I got a little transfixed in the figurines aisle, as I usually do in the 99 cent stores. I was taking a picture of all these black jesuses when they started to play "Papa Don't Preach" over the loud speakers. I got the tingles. Then I realized that Madonna gives me the tingles more than any other artist, I think. She and Martin Luther King.

I wouldn't have used that word, tingles, even though it's the perfect word, if it hadn't been used by Tracy Collins at the excellent blogade hosted by Adrain Kinloch aka BIB Sunday. Adrain and Tracy were kind enough to address the group regarding photographers' rights and run-ins with censorship. At one point Tracy spoke of how certain photographs gave him "tingles," and I immediately wanted to see those pictures. All of them. Each one. And I wanted to get tingles, too. Well, I can thank Madonna and the black jesus for that. For now.

Stoned on Fifth

What to do first, get stoned or saved? Since Stoned, brought to us by the owners of the Rock Star Warehouse in Manhattan, opened in the slope 4 months ago we've had the option.

I must be a very good daydreamer, because for the last 2 months or so I kept daydreaming about a franchise of that place opening here. I was thinking more along the lines of Windsor Terrace, though, for my convenience. Last week when I went online to check the address for the Rock Star Warehouse I saw they'd opened a store on the northern section of Fifth Avenue. Wuh? I'm there, I thought to myself.

I was eager and apprehensive about going. I was afraid I would be slammed with boutique prices beyond my means but I actually found things I could afford. Not the $4200 quartz conglomerate by the door, no, but things... beautiful quartz crystals that serve up bundles of inspiration for only $2 bucks, for instance. A little beauty goes a long way.

Stoned was open only 2 days a week but as of this week they'll be open Wens - Fri from 3 - 7, Saturday and Sunday from 2 - 7. 82 Fifth Avenue between St. Mark's and Prospect.

Below, the Assemblee on fifth, with self-lined architecture, not far from Stoned.

Respect for the Condemned

5th Avenue Honor System

As fragile as a bubble about to pop, it's amazing this place on 5th Avenue still exists. It's a kind of beauty, I think, that's a little scary.

Karaoke at Timboos

Did anyone go to this bar for karaoke Saturday? I have the impression that karaoke is a rarity in Brooklyn, am I wrong? I've only heard of one other place that offers it, I can't remember the name, but it's a bar on Columbia St. in the North part of Red Hook.

Puppets Jazz Bar

Has anyone ever visited this place on 5th Avenue? What's the story? What does it have to do with puppets? I don't understand.

Don't Dye Here

Happy New Year and Don't Dye Here! I guess the guy in black is a mourner. This sign hangs at Rob's Stop and Wash along with 6 others with similar charm. They aren't taken for granted. Thanks JB for drawing my attention to this outpost of laundromat style. To see the rest of Rob's signage, visit 54 5th Avenue, or the museum of laundry blog.

12th Street Tragedy

As I drove up 12th street today at 11:30 a.m. I saw candles and white roses arranged in front of a wrought iron fence, a woman's crying face, a man huddled next to her. A little later (I went around the block again, compelled) a saw a woman keel over in grief, caught and then supported by 3 or 4 women.

Perhaps that was the mother of the 26 year-old man killed there yesterday, as I read later in the Daily News online. The article mentions the name of the assailant, Antonio Bruno, but not the name of the victim, maybe because, according to the article, the family hadn't been notified.

What a sad day for 12th Street. The article mentions that Bruno has a long history of drug arrests, another lesson teaching what results from neglecting the desperate. If only we knew more ways to help.

The mural above is on the corner of 12th and 5th. Who painted it?

Lallo the Umbrella Cockatoo

Lallo lives at Petland Discount on 5th near 13th, where we went today in search of Chinchilla food. He's been for sale there for over 7 months, and recently the store dropped his price from $2,000 to $1800. When I got near his glass enclosed... cage?, he bobbed around curiously, seemingly very happy for a visitor and very willing to pose for a photograph. Maybe he'll sell soon, I don't know, but for now, he belongs to no one, and everyone, so drop by and say hi to him if you have any inclination. Don't resent the fact that with a lifespan of around 80 years he may outlive you. And try not to consider the fact that he probably thinks you look weird, being human and all. He's got to be used to all types by now, anyway.

I don't know what kind of ills are involved with the sale of tropical birds besides the obvious indulgence of putting a winged creature in a cage. I do know that life these days is so out of balance that all you have to do is put one foot on the floor in the morning and you've already blown it. And I do know that I love this lovely bird.

Saved on Fifth?

Not this time. It hurts a little when I see that the marble composition books which I paid $2.50 each for at the Krupa Grocery are 2 for a $1.00 at Save on Fifth. I knew $2.50 was steep, but the Krupa Grocery, on Prospect Park West, is a very special store, very individual, the best candy selection on the strip, durags, a few local "artisanal" t-shirts (look up) and the usual lotto heavy bodega fare. You can also get indian stuff there, mehndi paste and exotic kinds of hygiene products. It is adorned with metaphysical messages posted in odd places. On the door it says "That art thou, " which I take to mean "Thou art that," but I'm not sure. In my case, it would have to mean "Thou art that stupid that you paid $2.50 for something that goes for 50 cents somewhere else." Ow.

Here's something else that hurts. I pocketed the coin I had fished up for the meter when we got to Save on Fifth, it appeared we'd inherited a sweet 35 minutes. We must have been having too much fun shopping, because later I found a ticket on the windshield. $35 dollars. Time and space has nailed me again, as it will all of us. Meter time and parking space.

(here, a brief interruption from my inner numerologist/schizophrenic: 3+5=8, 3+5=8. Hello again 88. What are you doing here?)

What sweetens these injuries to my feelings of competence and thriftiness? The memory of the free candy they put in the bag when I bought the school supplies at Krupa. They are some of the most friendly store owners in Brooklyn, go see for yourself. Just don't get composition books there. I wonder if they still have that interesting and fun music selection and those $2 packages of pungent spices.

For anyone who cares, notice that a man wearing clothes that coordinate with my subject once again enters the picture. What's going on! Oh, Brooklyn, I love you so. Are you a White Stripes video? My inner skeptic points out that red and white are popular colors. Well, they are no doubt the colors of the week for me. I took home some of the red and white carnations from the altar of the meditation session I went to last night at Devi, thanks Buddha, and after went to Amin around the corner, a sea of red napkins on white tablecloths. And delicious Indian food.