Mr. Roger's Neighborhood

In Bushwick we lived two blocks from the Marcy Projects where Jay-Z grew up, but we were also in  the Hasidic neighborhood, which meant that there was no need to think twice when entering a stranger's house as there is nothing sick and twisted about turning off a light switch on the Holy Sabbath in exchange for cheesecake or bananas. Entering a bathhouse full of naked men and boys to switch off a light is another story, but thankfully I was not the one asked to do this.

Now we live in Bed-Stuy, albeit on the edge of Clinton Hill just a few blocks from Pratt, but Bed-Stuy nonetheless. If you are not a New Yorker you may not be aware of Bed-Stuy's reputation, but it certainly has one. Thus far the worst we have had to deal with have been rats in the apartment and a rock through my roommate's car window, but a little duct taping under doorways and not parking a Mercedes in Bed-Stuy have taken care of that. We're learning. 

Unlimited Prosecco at Black Swan on Wednesday nights = dangerous.

There is an airplane in a lot around the corner from my apartment. In Brooklyn.

Shoes on power lines and bottles on fence posts.

The Spencer Street Community Garden, nice to walk by but reportedly full of rats, like my apartment.

One of many Occupy graffiti sightings, on Nostrand and Dekalb.