I saw one of the first signs of spring here in Midtown yesterday. It wasn't a Robin, fat from wintering in the South. There aren't any new buds on the tree branches, at least not that I noticed. No the true harbinger of warmer weather isn't marked by the traditional signs of Spring, at least in my mind. Somebody stole some tools I had sitting alongside the garage in back of my building. Huh, what does that have to do with Spring, you ask. Well I'll tell you.
When the weather is cold they stay indoors. I think they must hibernate, like anorexic bears. They only start to venture out when the weather turns warm. They, who the hell is They? I fondly refer to them as Zombies, most people call them Crack Heads. As the season changes and the weather turns warm, shit starts to come up missing. I park off the street, so I have thus far managed to keep all of the windows intact in my car. People in other buildings on this street aren't so lucky, they are forced to park on the street. Once or twice a week I will walk past a pile of glittering glass laying in the street, glass that in an earlier life was a car window. Often times there will be some newly arrived to the neighborhood hipster or Art school student, looking pissed and bewildered, looking from the pile of glass to the hole in their car that once held it. Unable to refrain from stating the obvious I will usually ask " Car get broken in to ?" And this will generally get me an icy look followed by an admission to leaving a phone or briefcase in the back seat.
Another sure sign of Spring in the city will be an increased body count. In fact one just turned up a few blocks away. Something about warmer weather that brings out the worst in people. Now back to the Zombies. If you think I am exaggerating , if you believe I might be taking literary liberties , (making shit up), then just take a drive along Armour road, or Linwood, or any of the major roads from 39th street north to Independence Avenue, in the evening, around dusk. And you will see them. They are easy to spot. Always painfully thin, always moving at a frantic pace, head constantly moving in all directions, scanning their surroundings, looking for and at things , real and imagined, that most of us cant see.
I know what you are thinking, why in the world would anyone live in the city if that's how it is? Why not just move? I've tried moving, lived in the burbs, even moved to the sticks once, but I always come back here. Dating as far back as the mid 70's when I took my first apartment on Warner Plaza off of Main street, right behind Milton's Jazz and Juice, a long gone dive bar, I keep coming back.
There's a scene in the movie "A River Runs Through It", where the successful brother offers the troubled brother a chance to move to Chicago with him, to leave his troubled past and Montana behind. The troubled brother responds " Oh, I'll never leave Montana, brother" The point is, he cant imagine leaving the good parts of his past and present life behind. I get that, and I feel the same way. For all it's flaws, this is home and I can't imagine living anywhere else.
When the weather is cold they stay indoors. I think they must hibernate, like anorexic bears. They only start to venture out when the weather turns warm. They, who the hell is They? I fondly refer to them as Zombies, most people call them Crack Heads. As the season changes and the weather turns warm, shit starts to come up missing. I park off the street, so I have thus far managed to keep all of the windows intact in my car. People in other buildings on this street aren't so lucky, they are forced to park on the street. Once or twice a week I will walk past a pile of glittering glass laying in the street, glass that in an earlier life was a car window. Often times there will be some newly arrived to the neighborhood hipster or Art school student, looking pissed and bewildered, looking from the pile of glass to the hole in their car that once held it. Unable to refrain from stating the obvious I will usually ask " Car get broken in to ?" And this will generally get me an icy look followed by an admission to leaving a phone or briefcase in the back seat.
Another sure sign of Spring in the city will be an increased body count. In fact one just turned up a few blocks away. Something about warmer weather that brings out the worst in people. Now back to the Zombies. If you think I am exaggerating , if you believe I might be taking literary liberties , (making shit up), then just take a drive along Armour road, or Linwood, or any of the major roads from 39th street north to Independence Avenue, in the evening, around dusk. And you will see them. They are easy to spot. Always painfully thin, always moving at a frantic pace, head constantly moving in all directions, scanning their surroundings, looking for and at things , real and imagined, that most of us cant see.
I know what you are thinking, why in the world would anyone live in the city if that's how it is? Why not just move? I've tried moving, lived in the burbs, even moved to the sticks once, but I always come back here. Dating as far back as the mid 70's when I took my first apartment on Warner Plaza off of Main street, right behind Milton's Jazz and Juice, a long gone dive bar, I keep coming back.
There's a scene in the movie "A River Runs Through It", where the successful brother offers the troubled brother a chance to move to Chicago with him, to leave his troubled past and Montana behind. The troubled brother responds " Oh, I'll never leave Montana, brother" The point is, he cant imagine leaving the good parts of his past and present life behind. I get that, and I feel the same way. For all it's flaws, this is home and I can't imagine living anywhere else.
That's OK, most of the meth labs are in the country. One was recently shut down a little over a mile from me. My next-door neighbor has been known to cook up some strange-smelling recipes, too. We haven't so far had problems with things being stolen, though. We haven't locked our house for years.
ReplyDeleteI hear where you're coming from... I live in the same neighborhood, and I've always felt like driving on Broadway or the streets you mentioned is similar to being in a (very real) video game in which you're trying to avoid hitting any pedestrians (speedestrians?) with your vehicle. Still -- and part of this stems from having grown up in NE joco -- I can't imagine where else I would live in this city. Even after my car window was shot out twice.
ReplyDeleteDamn good post. I loved that movie! Besides.. if you didn't live there.. how would I get my midtown updates? It's all about me right? lol ;) Hope all is well.
ReplyDeleteHubby is reading The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks.
ReplyDelete