(October 10) Having avoided them for fear of death from age eight until last year, Tony has developed quite a thing for the apple since discovering they don’t trigger his food allergies. With that in mind, we set out on a quest for pommes.
According to Tony, you’re looking at the only espresso on the east coast worth drinking.
After a false start, we found apples to pick from trees (and not baskets).
The more I look at these photos, the more they remind me of my childhood.
Of course the wild apples of my childhood weren’t fit to eat, but they looked vaguely similar.
Apples everywhere. Despite the brisk business, it’s hard to believe they make enough now for the year.
Tony’s so happy he almost exploded.
It’s quite a view to have from your backyard.
All I could think was “Who is Peg Leg Bates?
This pothole took out the mighty Volvo.
Tony was just relieved no apples were harmed, though two tires were blown out.
Hah hah hah. The hook up, eh? Not quite what springs to mind.
(September 22) One night on the way home from Bushwick…
Ralph should probably give it up.
(September 21) On the way home from the San Gennaro Festival, I took some shots as best I could of the new work going on inside a fenced in area on President St.
My father had one just like this, if I remember correctly.
Everything but the Impala is fair game in here.
Surely no one has gone barefoot here and lived.
“The Egg Man” lives on my block.
(September 16,17)
Outside the Hudson Park Library
More change in the neighborhood
I’ve never heard of the Subway Sun
Just like politics, all graffitti is local
What is Hebrew for “Post No Bills”?
(August 30) Visit to the Manhattan Bridge, walking from DUMBO, Brooklyn to Chinatown, Manhattan, continued.
More advice from the sages that inhabit the metropolitan area bridges
I’ll bet it says that to everyone on the bridge
Can you tell it’s not Beijing?
Homer Simpson says buy something!
The end of any adventure. The gift shop.