Antiquarian pursuits have entertained me utterly for the last couple of years.
I grew up in a Brooklyn neighborhood whose history, pre-1950, could best be defined as sandbar and then landfill. The housing there is typified by the real estate developers own name for the area- Futurama. Yes, I grew up in Futurama- but not the fun Matt Groening one. Mine was more of an expanse of souless 2 story buildings that stretched for miles in any direction. The mafiosos lived in Mill Basin to the south, with the gang bangers in Flatbush and Bushwick to the north. Andrew Dice Clay lived on my block, and I remember one day when someone threw a pipebomb through his window. Strange place, but boring and with no pre-20th century history to speak of apart from lost Indians and unsuccessful farmers. Like many Brooklyn kids, I left for Manhattan, where I stayed until 2003 when I moved to Queens.
Astoria and Long Island City were settled in Dutch times and are lousy with history. I’ll be detailing some of that in posts to come- but the foetid star of my new hood is Newtown Creek. Arguably the most polluted body of water on earth, this is the birthplace of the modern american Oil industry. A citizen’s group- the Newtown Creek Alliance, is sponsoring a boat tour up the creek (its a rarity that anyone without official business is allowed on the water) to drive awareness of their quest to force the Federal EPA to clean up the world’s largest oil spill- gurgling back and forth through certain subterranean channels which underlie Brooklyn and Queens.
Me and my trusty Canon G9 are going, and I’ll also be bringing my Pickman Camera set to its aetherial picture mode as well. Want to go?. The Creek is kind of a distopian wonderland. A monument valley of abandoned industry and rusted civilization. Warning- the air smells yellow-green with hints of cyan, and bring gum or your mouth will taste like you’ve been licking a battery.
Mitch Waxman- Day# 14,596