You are currently viewing the stories for April, 2002
A Few Facts About Tuba Repair
by Rebecca Toby Letz 04/29/2002Neighborhood: Chelsea
It begins with a button marked Brass Lab. I press it and there is no answer and behind me groups of men in tank-tops work in automotive repair shops and listen to to Spanish music on mini-stereos set up next to the cars. Finally, a voice from above bellows, “It’s open!” and I look up […]
Basement Tapes
by by Charles Waters 04/29/2002Neighborhood: Brooklyn
My life lies in piles around my feet. It is mostly paper things; boxes of musical scores, boxes marked STORAGE and HOME. Why does the Rilke go to STORAGE and the Hesiod makes it to HOME? Who knows? I take the G train to my studio at the Classon stop in central Brooklyn. The G […]
The Shanghai Princess
by Leland Pitts-Gonzalez 04/28/2002Neighborhood: Morningside Heights
Ariel was convulsing. I had been trained in CPR, but couldn’t remember how to do it. The patient telephone was sitting by her side and a loud dial tone rang out. She was a bouncing fish on the stool, spewing foam from her mouth. I held her head so it wouldn’t rap against the wall. […]
Anti-War: Report from the U.S. Provinces
by Susan Connell-Mettauer 04/25/2002Neighborhood: Letter From Abroad
When U.S. soldiers came back from Vietnam they claimed to have been greeted at airports by hippies who spat at them and called them baby-killers. Recently historians have done research on this, the results of which have been: no evidence to support the spitting allegations, nothing, not one incident, zip. They forgot to talk to […]
Arab Like Me
by Rasha Refaie 04/20/2002Neighborhood: Brooklyn, Williamsburg
After 9/11, I stepped into the Williamsburg bodega that I’ve been going to for years. Some of the workers I know by name, others are just familiar faces. We’ve mentioned our Middle Eastern backgrounds to each other. “She’s Egyptian,” said the Palestinian woman behind the counter, gesturing towards me. But her co-worker already knew. “Don’t […]
Notes on Moving
by Charles Waters 04/12/2002Neighborhood: Brooklyn
My life lies in piles around my feet. It is mostly paper things; boxes of musical scores, boxes marked STORAGE and HOME. Why does the Rilke go to STORAGE and the Hesiod makes it to HOME? Who knows? I take the G train to my studio at the Classon stop in central Brooklyn. The G […]
The Visit
by Peter F. Eder 04/12/2002Neighborhood: Financial District
Over the years, Kathy and I have spent weekends in Manhattan, taking advantage of lower hotel room rates and exploring the neighborhoods. One of the places we liked was the Marriott at the World Financial Center. It isn’t there anymore. And we thought it was time to visit … we wanted to see the Columns […]
Hold Your Own Hand
by Jessica Marksbury Roake 04/08/2002Neighborhood: Morningside Heights
After the World Trade Center is destroyed, I get drunk and seek comfort in the arms of an Orthodox Jewish friend. He is gentle. “I don’t have sex,” he says, and that is fine with me, although the distinction between intercourse and what we are doing seems non-existent. He is warm, and soft, and tentative, […]
Love and Loss at Neocon
by Ashley Shelby 04/06/2002Neighborhood: Clinton
The city was crawling with carpet salesmen and industrial designers and Formica representatives and stadium planners, and no one outside of the Javits Center even noticed. I wouldn’t have noticed either if it hadn’t been for my friend Amy, who had flown into New York from East Lansing, Michigan, to attend the NeoCon Interior Design […]
Street Fighting Woman
by Jane Ratcliffe 04/05/2002Neighborhood: Greenwich Village
World Gym, upstairs, is fresh with creamy white paint and music, while beat-driven, played at an appropriate level. There are the requisite scantily clad Spandexed women and the scantilier clad hyper-muscled men. But there is a civility, a sense of propriety, a lovely calm to this gym that the trendy joints are lacking. Downstairs, however, […]
Tales From the Flea Market
by Christina Love 04/05/2002Neighborhood: Chelsea
I’ve been out of work for a month. My life is my own. No longer must I force myself through the routine of setting my alarm, waking up, dragging my tired body out of bed, taking a too-short shower, brewing coffee, forgetting to drink half of it, deciding what to wear, taking the subway, taking […]
Housekeeping in Brooklyn, Circa 1952
by Joseph Scalia 04/04/2002Neighborhood: Brooklyn
The summer of 1952 I was ten, and the center of my universe was Brooklyn. The Dodgers were still Brooklyn’s team, and Ebbets Field was where they played baseball and not a hous ing project. Everyone hated the Yankees. With the end of school still close, the pinch of freedom felt as unnatural as the […]