Growing up in Brooklyn

          Yes, I grew up in Brooklyn and loved it so much if I could afford to retire there, I might. If I could afford to retire there I'd live in Bensonhurst because Bensonhurst appears to not have been infected with an influx of crime and entitlement.
       I'd still love to go bike riding on shore road at my old retirement age. Yup, I'm old, but stuck in my teen years mentally. Aches and pains, yes I do but rarely does it stop me from being silly, crazy and having dreams.
        Definitely I'm in need of a newer car, yet how that's going to happen, I have no idea. My car has 233,000 miles on it and I'd need a vehicle that sits upright like a chair. So back to Brooklyn I go in my NY state of mind.
      P.S. 140 was the school on 59th st. and 4th ave-some say it was P.S. 118. My principal Mr/ Vitalo said it was 140 annex so that's what I'll go with. My dreams are to go roller skating once again, pizza in Brooklyn, a knish, a pastrami on Rye, an egg cream, sit on shore road with my friend, my grandchildren, family and or alone.
        Cobblestones streets and brownstones, ice cream cones, stick ball, apartment buildings, stoops and whispers late at night. Hot sweaty guys sitting out, sleeves rolled up or in those undershirts with bra like straps. Rock and roll music coming from transistor radios and kids getting dressed up for Friday night dances at the local churches, mostly OLPH.
          That was all wonderful and just as good was my mother making a huge pot of pea soup with sliced hot dogs . My father made hot rice, like rice pudding, but in those huge pots, so big it barely fit on one burner. There were eight kids so we used giant pots.
       Early Saturday Mornings someone, usually myself or my brother Roger would go to the bakery and deli. We bought enough rolls so we all had two, then at the deli baloney, cheese, ham and genoa salami. My father would clear our old formica table and cut every roll, spread them with mayo and mustard and line up the deli meats. Then he'd make two jugs of ice tea. We' take paper plates and paper cups and a trash bag. Off to Gerritsen beach where we'd drive right up onto the beach and the food would stay out of the sun. After swimming and running all over we were ready to eat around one o'clock, not before. I think about six or seven of us would pile into that old car, no seat belts. The only thing we took was excitement !
           IT seemed by five we were hungry again and then there was John ! John was the best food truck to come on the beach. He was so very dark black and for quite a while people wouldn't buy from him. They bought from a guy named Nick. Nick was short, dirty, dirty fingers, and creepy laugh and filthy truck. Little by little and we were one of the first, people started buying from John. John who stopped at our house on 56th st between 4th and 5th ave, to ask if Roger could work on his truck with pay and all he wanted to eat. John picked him up and dropped him off every day one summer.
         Roger was happy for more than one reason, he was out of the house. This was his summer of Happiness! I was happy for him and John had the best hot dogs ever. He was so clean, honest and just a good guy. Thank you John-well this was just a small piece about Growing up in Brooklyn. I loved it!

Those Brooklyn People...

       As we approach another year left behind and try to plan for a new one, I find myself looking way back, so far back I almost trip myself.
       I think about the streets, the kids, baby carriages, cars, hair styles, music, church, police, freedoms, foods and everything life gave us then.
      So let first look at the neighborhood streets, many made of cobblestones, a black topped looking little brick, rounded and smoothed and filled in with more black. Wearing old skates made of metals, a kid could feel their feet make that brr sound, almost like your feet were doing hic cups. Then the lam posts. So tall, fancy designs and odd shaped lighting, but classy. The sidewalks were squares of concrete, nice enough to play box ball. Combined streets and sidewalks kids could play all day and night outside without getting into trouble.
       From marbles, hit the stick, stick ball, punch ball, monkey in the middle, running bases, blinds man bluff, cork cork a levio, pitching cards, flipping cards and so many more, we were never bored.
       Baby Carriages were almost like making a statement, poor or not. Any new mom seemed to find a new carriage and a fancy blanket comforter style would lay across the bottom, winter or summer. My baby brother Jimmy had the fanciest on the block-until a new baby was born and we were considered poor. I never thought of things that way even when told. I just thought we didn't have a lot of money. That was okay too.
      Remember Old Spice, Brute, English Leather, Chantilly, Tabu, and those great hairstyles. Friday night the closest Catholic church held dances and my brothers all went as well as my sister. Me? I ironed shirts, slacks and made sure the hair tonic bottle was ready and with a younger brother shined shoes. Then got my baby brother ready for his crib...think he stayed there until he was about fifteen :)
         We had hot summer days with the ice cream truck coming around, you know the kind a uniformed man reached way in with freezer air coming out, reaching for a toasted almond. Yeah, The Good Humor truck ! Night time brought mister Softee, neighbors sitting and drinking ice tea, windows open with blinds raise up to the top. Well that depends what block you lived on. If you were very poor, your blinds were all the way, but somewhat poor, blinds were half way up.
       Even on those nights when it was sweltering hot, it was never too hot for pizza from the local pizza place, walking around the corner with a best friend and talking about a latest crush.
     What made all of those times work better than other's would be the neighbors, the sounds of accents, laughter, whispers and just spending time on stoops, after all what were we if without a stoop? Those stoops were our hangouts, our homes, almost a safe haven. We knew if we didn't see one another during the day, that sometime later in the afternoon, one of us or a parent would be on the stoop.
      That's Brooklyn and the people in it. If you can make it there...you know the rest, now smile that knowing Brooklyn smile.