Let this be a lesson to ya, kids: stick to the candy on Halloween. At least it comes individually wrapped. (via BoingBoing)
I know we’ve never met, but since you live across the street from me, I feel as if I know you. I don’t mean to seem stalker-ish, but it’s hard not to pay attention to you since I hear your name every other day. Remember that time a few weeks ago when you and your dad went out to a café early Saturday morning while I was trying to sleep? No? Well, I do. Your mommy decided to yell her order to you and your daddy even though you were both halfway down the block. Why she didn’t do this while you were still inside is beyond me. Did you make sure to pick up that iced coffee?
But seriously, it must be nice having the run of a whole brownstone as a five-year-old. I understand it must suck not having a full yard to play in, but you are just a few blocks away from the largest park in Brooklyn. You should ask your mom to take you there sometime. By the way, is she scared of leaving the stoop? I can’t quite figure out why she screams at you from the front door all the time. You should tell her that in Park Slope, people don’t get mugged just because they’re out on the sidewalk. And unfortunately, this isn’t the suburbs. Our buildings are not separated by full yards, so, yes, everything she shouts outside the apartment becomes all of our business.
It seems like your little sister is growing up quickly too! I see and hear her running around more and more these days. Since your mother hasn’t quite mastered the concept of the “indoor voice,” you should become a big brother role model and teach her that when she is outside, she shouldn’t shriek and disturb the whole street. I know how exciting is it to take out the trash with daddy, but I’d prefer not to hear about while I’m catching up on “Mad Men.”
Anyways, I hope you had a nice Labor Day weekend! Are you starting school soon? You must be excited. I’m sure I’ll hear about it if you ever leave your lunch on the counter.
Your friendly neighbor
I know the internets never sleep or go on vacation, but I guess I got swept up in the only month of summer we had in New York. Would you want to spend 80 degree and sunny days cooped up inside tapping away on your decrepit laptop? I think not. So, without further ado, welcome to autumn and a renewed commitment to bloggity blog blog.
After the needless brouhaha of Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick having twins through a surrogate died down, rumors surfaced that the power couple might have purchased a hand-me-down townhouse on Prospect Park West. Rumors are just rumors (hey kids, not everything you hear is true), but there appears to be confirmation that Parker’s production company just optioned the television rights to Amy Sohn’s book Prospect Park West. Basically, it’s Sex and the City after they have kids and move to Brooklyn. Oh wait. They already did that.
The awesome people at Rooftop Films kicked off the annual Animation Block Party last night on the buggy lawn of the Automotive High School in Williamsburg. The films, which ranged in theme from a woman who tries to get over her ex by buying a dog to a kindly industrial plant that inadvertantly sends everything in its path to a polutted grave, are anything but your standard Disney G rated crap. Each short averages 3 minutes, so they’re guaranteed to keep the attention of even the most ADD adult.
The block party continues through the weekend at BAM, so go out and give the filmmakers some love.
When Pride and Prejudice and Zombies came out, I read the flap copy on my friend’s book and left it at that. But when I saw the trailer for the upcoming Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, #2 in this Creepy Classics series, I was Interested (yes, capital I). Alliteration makes all the difference. And sea monsters? Really? Whatever the author was smoking, I want some. Here’s the book trailer*:
* Since when do books have trailers? And don’t you kind of wish this were a real movie?
I didn’t intend on seeing the New York Phiharmonic play in Prospect Park as part of the free Celebrate Brooklyn concert series since I had seen the same program the night before at the disgustingly crowded Central Park show. But when my evening plans in Greenpoint ended on the early side, I decided to make use of the (incredible) new G stop at 7th Avenue and meet up with my friends, who had staked out a grassy patch in the park. I missed the Mozart entirely but arrived in time for the Beethoven, my favorite crazy composer. The Philharmonic was superb, the air was warm but not humid, the bugs were greedily feasting on my legs, and the crowd was refreshingly mature (and if there were some young’uns around, the music was loud enough to block out their chatter); in short, everyone had something to be happy about.
But the best part of the evening came after the brief Mendelssohn encore…
Before I moved to Brooklyn, I thought there was only one type of baby stroller that had any name-brand appeal: Maclaren. These colorfully accented carriages, brandishing the company logo down the handle or on the seat, appeared everywhere on the Upper West Side.
And then I moved to Park Slope, where I soon became acquainted with the 3-wheeled “jogging” stroller, the stroller that can seat not two, but three (!) whiny children, and modern takes on the uppity pram. Now I know that the ones with the squiggled circle logo and massive back wheels – the same type carriage that once ran over my foot (hence the name of this blog) – is a Bugaboo, Gucci to a Maclaren’s H&M.
The most galling thing? These tricked-out rides, soon to be covered in spittle and crushed organic Cheerios, cost more than what I make in my entire paycheck. So pardon me, New York Times, for not wanting to run over and congratulate any of my neighbors for finally hitting upon this shockingly new concept of acquiring goods for their oblivious infants secondhand.