#tompkins ave

[wifiog]

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

Patti Smith arrived in New York on July 3, 1967, via the decidedly un-scenic Port Authority Bus Terminal (625 8th Ave.), where she immediately transferred to the subway and headed for Brooklyn. She hoped to connect with a friend who was enrolled at the nearby Pratt Institute, an Engineering and Arts college in Clinton Hill. Unfortunately, it was summer break and her friend had moved to a new apartment. One of the current residents knew where her friend could be found, though, and offered to direct her there. This would be her first fleeting encounter with Robert Mapplethorpe, a young Pratt art student, and the man who would ultimately become her closest companion for the next few years. Alas, her friend was not at the said address, so Patti would sleep rough for the next several days, on porches, and in Central Park close to the statue of Alice in Wonderland.

Like many young newcomers, she would wander the streets of Greenwich Village and spend hours observing the people in Washington Square Park, an active gathering place for artists, folkies, activists, and people of every stripe imaginable. She explored St. Marks Place and the East Village, then a fairly ragged but colorful neighborhood of immigrants, hippies, artists, and the poor, always dragging her plaid suitcase along with her. One day she and a street friend found a little money and treated themselves to a hot meal at the Waverly Diner (385 6th Ave.), but otherwise she ate day-old bread and handouts. The rest of the time she was desperately looking for work, and after a disastrous single shift waiting tables at a Times Square restaurant, she found work at the midtown flagship location of Brentano’s (586 5th Ave.), a venerable bookstore near Rockefeller Center. She still had no place to stay, though, and often surreptitiously slept in the store overnight, only to emerge from the bathroom in the morning as the others readied the store. One day she ran into Mapplethorpe again in the bookstore. He, coincidentally, worked at the downtown branch of Brentano’s (20 University Pl.) in the Village. Not long afterwards, in the midst of an uncomfortable date with an older bookstore patron, Patti spotted Mapplethorpe in Tompkins Square Park, where he happily rescued her by posing as her boyfriend. The two shared an egg cream at Gem Spa (131 2nd Ave.) while commiserating. The pair would become inseparable. He brought her to stay at his place, an attic room in the home of some friends on Waverly Avenue in Brooklyn. After several weeks, the two had enough money saved for their own place nearby at 160 Hall St. on the second floor for $80 per month. This would become their headquarters for well over a year.

By winter, both Patti and Robert had lost their jobs at Brentano’s but found seasonal employment at FAO Schwarz (745 5th Ave.), the gigantic toy shop. Robert decorated windows, but Patti was stuck at the cash register. Afterward, she worked briefly at Argosy Books (116 E. 59th St.) before settling at Scribner’s Book Store (597 5th Ave.). Scribner’s would be her steady job for the next couple of years. Robert, meanwhile, went through a succession of jobs, one of which was as an usher at the Fillmore East (105 2nd Ave.), where he was able to get Patti in to see the Doors. Jim Morrison was to have a lasting influence on her...

-- Excerpt from the Rock and Roll Explorer Guide to New York City (Globe Pequot Press, June 2018) by Mike Katz and Crispin Kott, with a foreword by Legs McNeil. Also available by the same authors: Rock and Roll Explorer Guide to San Francisco and the Bay Area (Globe Pequot Press, May 2021), with a foreword by Joel Gion of the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Get ‘em both wherever books are sold at maximum volume.

Patti Smith & Robert Mapplethorpe by Norman Seeff,

[forthosebefore]

The Mothershuckers Oyster Cart

Open-air oyster carts used to be an integral part of New York City’s street food scene. Today, they are all but extinct. Benjamin “Moody” Harney created the Mothershuckers Oyster Cart in 2019 to change all of that.

Oyster Carts of New York City

Did you know that oysters were one of New York City's original street foods? Just imagine: standing at a street corner in Lower Manhattan on a crisp fall day slurping a dozen fresh, raw oysters from an oyster cart. Peddling oysters alongside hot buns and peanuts was a normal thing in New York City back in the late 1700s and 1800s. Today, it's a rarity. There is only one pushcart set up in all of Brooklyn: Benjamin "Moody" Harney's Mothershuckers Oyster Cart outside of Eugene & Co. on the corner of Tompkins Avenue and Jefferson Avenue. Inspired by the story of Thomas Downing, a.k.a. the Oyster King of New York, Moody started his business in the fall of 2019. Read the full article here.

You can now find The Real Mothershuckers at Pier 57, 25 11th Ave., New York, NY. Monday — Sunday, 11:00AM-8:00PM

Source: In a Half Shell, The Real Mothershuckers

Visit www.attawellsummer.com/forthosebefore to learn more about Black history and read new blog posts first.

Need a freelance graphic designer or illustrator? Send me an email.

[dnickels]

After a few minutes of Larry and I describing the event to each other, I stood up to ask—someone, anything. The pretty ghoul who had lifted her out was going about his job. “People faint in here all the time,” he said. “We just carry them outside.” Then he looked at the pen in my hand, which I had not even realized I was still holding. It was the first time I saw his eyes take on any color. “Why do you have a pen?” he asked, with a very clear note of menace. I may have apologized, and then we made tracks to leave. Outside, the two ruined children were on a bench, she still unrecognizable and slumped on him. I offered to help get her into a taxi, but he seemed incapable of deciding on any immediate future, and instead Larry and I walked toward Tompkins Square Park. My proprioception was off, and I kept bumping into him; he couldn’t figure out where in the park we were, despite having lived nearby for thirty-something years; there were ping-pong players bouncing their happy lives off the concrete table, and I was bilious with envy for their agility and purpose. “So much would have to change for us to be playing ping-pong right now,” I said, feeling like I was about to weep. We tried to have a drink at Big Bar, but I couldn’t tolerate the sonic pressure, I needed to be alone, I needed to see a movie. My eyesight seemed about as precise as a disposable camera viewfinder with grease on it, and I couldn’t figure out how to read the numbers on my phone, so I floated down Second Ave toward Anthology Film Archives, where the employee locking up seemed suspect of my appearance and emphasized they were closed. I stood on the corner of Bowery and watched a man on an electric bicycle crash into a man on a regular bicycle, and as they fell to pavement and started to shout, I hailed a cab. The word for how I felt was extinct.

[roastedpepper]

ive been trapped in my home for 4 days and i feel like im finally getting my goals in order....caught covid with surprisingly good timing bcus ive been moving & working nonstop since i got here and really needed a moment to catch my breath & assess. i def need to set some time & money aside to take a trip upstate. now that my schedule is weird but more open i need to be intentional about buying nice food and cooking for myself. i want to plan more dinners with friends & stop putting so much energy into meeting new dates/hookups (though going on actual dates would be nice as well). i also want to forgive myself for not keeping up with everything all the time because its honestly impressive that ive managed to get so much exercise and eat decently and read so many books and explore new neighborhoods and keep it together through that shithole of a workplace and go out/spend time with friends at all considering how crazy things have been. it’s not possible to do everything at once and ive only lived here for 3 months and everything about the move has been a huge adjustment to the pace and style and cost of life here so i’m not going to have all my needs met right away. just being able to identify the ones that have been neglected is a step in the right direction. it would be nice to organize my space and get some new clothes as well, i think i will work on that next week. i have to remember that i didn’t really settle into a rhythm in western mass for the first year either, it was a lot of figuring things out and setting up my space and learning where to put myself & i will find my spots here as well. i want to check out the new bookstore/coffee shop on tompkins av soon. i’m still settling into my new job & the rhythm of that. there’s no rush on any of this

[kimabutch]

[ID: a series of graphics promoting the 100K March for Gaza on November 4 organized by the Palestine Youth Movement. The graphics show the Canadian cities where rallies will take place, along with specific times and locations. They are:

Toronto, ON - 2 PM @ US Consulate (360 University Ave)

Ottawa, ON - 2 PM @ Parliament Hill

Montreal, QC - 2 PM @ 175 St-Catherine St W

Nanaimo, BC - 2 PM @ Maffeo Sutton Park

Victoria, BC - 2 PM @ Legislative Assembly

Winnipeg, MB - 1 PM @ US Consulate

Fredericton, NB - 12 PM @ City Hall

St John’s, NL - 1:30 PM @ Harbourside Park

Halifax, NS - 2 PM @ Province House & 7 PM @ Park Victoria

Sydney, NS - 1 PM @ City Hall

Guelph, ON - 11 AM @ City Hall

Kingston, ON - 2 PM @ City Hall

London, ON - 11 AM @ City Hall

Thunder Bay, ON - 3 PM @ Hillcrest Park

Markham, ON - 2 PM @ Markham City Centre

Mississauga, ON - 4 PM @ Mississauga City Hall

Windsor, ON - 2 PM @ Sunset & University

Quebec City, QC - 2 PM @ Place De L'Universite Du Quebec

Whitehorse, YT - 2 PM @ Healing Totem Pole (Main & Front St)

Charlottetown, PEI - 2 PM @ Cenotaph

Calgary, AB - 12 PM @ Tompkins Park

Edmonton, AB - 2 PM @ Churchill Square

Regina, SK - 2:30 PM @ Royal Saskatchewan Museum

Saskatoon, SK - 2:30 PM @ City Hall

End ID.]

Tomorrow, the Palestinian Youth Movement issued a call to action to all supporters of Palestine in Canada to support the protestors who are going to be protesting in D.C. at the White House tomorrow. Here is the list of all the protests that have been confirmed for tomorrow. Remember to wear a mask or cover the lower half of your face with a kuffiyeh, to avoid detection by harassment and doxxing campaign orgs. Stay safe and spread the message.

[metaleterno]

Tras su exitoso debut en nuestro país TesseracT, uno de los grandes exponentes del metal progresivo regresa en el marco de su gira mundial “War of Being World Tour”, para presentar su quinto álbum ‘War of Being’,  aclamado por la crítica como uno de los mejores discos del 2023 y de toda su carrera. La cita es el jueves 12 de septiembre a las 19.00 horas en “El Teatro Flores", Av. Rivadavia 7806, C.A.B.A.

Entradas anticipadas disponibles en: - Sistema Passline https://www.passline.com/eventos/tesseract-12-de-septiembre-de-2024 - Fade To Black (Bond Street) - Metalmania (Centro) - Liverpool (Belgrano) - Mala Difusión (Almagro) - Tienda Noiseground (Almagro) - XElcambio Records (Parque Patricios) - Locuras (Morón) - Engendro Tienda (Wilde) - Xennon (Quilmes / La Plata).

Los embajadores británicos del metal progresivo llegan a nuestro país con su nuevo disco bajo el brazo. El Reino Unido ha sido la tierra prometida del metal progresivo a través de más de 50 años y dentro de la nueva generación de sus divinidades musicales TesseracT se ha erigido como una de las más importantes. Luego de un soñado debut en nuestra tierra, el quinteto regresa para presentar su último álbum y consolidar definitivamente la estrecha relación que han forjado con sus fanáticos argentinos.

“War of Being” es el título del quinto disco de TesseracT, el cual los muestra en el tope de su creatividad artística. Prestigiosos medios como Kerrang!, Blabbermouth y Distorted Sound lo han aclamado como uno de los mejores discos del 2023 y de toda la carrera de la banda liderada por la voz de Daniel Tompkins y la guitarra de Alec Kahney. Por eso es que la expectativa por ver en vivo este nuevo material es muy alta y Argentina no es la excepción. A través de 21 años de carrera, la banda ha sabido evolucionar y subir sus propias varas. Desde su inicio con “One” en 2011, hasta su penúltima placa titulada “Sonder” de 2018, su popularidad fue creciendo gracias a sus impecables entregas musicales y sus intensas presentaciones en vivo. Hoy están en su mejor momento, por eso esta nueva oportunidad de verlos se perfila como un momento memorable para los amantes de la música progresiva.

TesseracT en las redes Sitio Oficial: https://www.tesseractband.co.uk/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tesseractband/

[gforcedrew]

S☀️S '24 🙌

#GFDSOS 🏖

#GForceDrew 😎

🇬 🇫 🇩 🆘️'2️⃣4️⃣

#SoundsOfSummer2024 🌞

GENESI - Acid (All Night Long)

(Official Video)

📹 youtu.be/dn-unxswaHQ

🎧 on.soundcloud.com/RjC9n

(Tomorrowland)

📹 youtu.be/av-eeR82dkg

(Extended Mix)

📹 youtu.be/NQVR6RCOLG8

🆘️'2️⃣4️⃣ 🔙

[valkyries-things]

HATTIE CARTHAN // ACTIVIST

“She was an American community activist and environmentalist who was instrumental in improving the quality of life of the Brooklyn, New York community of Bedford-Stuyvesant. Carthan moved to the tree-lined block of Vernon Avenue between Tompkins Ave and Throop Ave in Bedford-Stuyvesant in 1953. By 1964, only three trees remained due to the deterioration of the neighborhood at that time. She sent postcards to everyone on her block and formed the T & T Vernon Avenue Block Association, which raised funds to buy and plant trees by throwing block parties. The City of New York supported her efforts.”

[hughmadson]

Tompkins Ave.

Bed-Stuy (2021)

[justnianiania]

Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn (1983). A summer block party on Madison Ave between Tompkins Ave & Throop Ave. Photographed by Robert Madden of National Geographic.

[momofmysquad]

New York, New York

“Theme from New York, New York” Frank Sinatra // “Tompkins Square Park” Mumford & Sons // “Growing Old on Bleecker Street” AJR // “Harlem” New Politics // “myrtle ave.” mxmtoon // “Manhattan” Ella Fitzgerald // “Coney Island” Good Old War // “Empire State of Mind” Alicia Keys

[thepunksink]

I got a bottle of sweet wine in one hand, a teddy bear in the other, n a dead mans ancient lenovo laptop on my thighs, bitch what the fuck I want 40s duct taped to my hands while I’m awkwardly stradling some other stupid dipshit whos fucked outta their mind and egging me on the fuck is this I miss u nyc hhhh

[kvetchlandia]

William S. Burroughs  -  Allen Ginsberg on the Roof of their Shared Apartment, Between Aves B and C, Near Tompkins Square Park. (I Used to Live Right by That Place, Way Back When) -  1953

--

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the box house hills and cry. Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery. The oily water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily. Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust— —I rushed up enchanted—it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake—my visions—Harlem and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes Greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past— and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye— corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb, leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear, Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then! The grime was no man’s grime but death and human locomotives, all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis’ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt—industrial—modern—all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown— and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos—all these entangled in your mummied roots—and you there standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form! A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze! How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of the railroad and your flower soul? Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive? You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!   And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not! So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter, and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack’s soul too, and anyone who’ll listen, ��We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not dread bleak dusty imageless locomotives, we’re golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our own eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.

--Allen Ginsberg, "Sunflower Sutra," Berkeley, 1955

[ashakagivens]

I guess I’m still deep in the Ocean 🌊🌊🌊🌊 There’s only one and it will be available this Black Friday Weekend! Come Shop the Pop-Up for the newest selections & best prices this year! ✨🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩✨ Black Girl Magic Pop Up 372 Tompkins Ave. Brooklyn Friday 6 -11pm Saturday 12-6pm Sunday 12-6pm See @makemanifestbk & @blkgirlmagicst.artisanmarket for the full fabulous list of Black Vendors. #AshakaGivens #AshakaGivensMillinery #BlackGirlMagic #BlackFriday #BlackGirlMagicStreet #SupportBlackBusiness (at Brooklyn, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CWqQ9JVldav/?utm_medium=tumblr

[citymaus]

tompkins ave slow streets, san francisco.