Photo Hunt 55: Rare

Thirty years ago, when I lived in the far West Village, the only people on the street late at night were the guys working in the meat markets and the transvestite hookers whose cat fights were more entertaining than TV. I always felt very safe. What would a transvestite want with me? And the beefy armed men in their bloody smocks were as good protection as a young girl could ask for. It was a great neighborhood back then, even if it did smell something awful in the slow aired days of August.

Today most of the meat market is gone. Its derelict cobblestone streets overflow with tourists, or hip dentists from New Jersey, who come to eat at the trendy restaurants or shop at the twee little pet boutiques and minimalist furniture stores. When I went out with my camera, I was afraid I would be mistaken for one of them. As if. I'm not rich enough or thin enough or young enough. As far as this neighborhood goes, I might as well be put out to pasture.

But I don't eat meat anymore, either.

Photo Hunt 55: Rare

http://raypod.blogspot.com/2007/04/photo-hunt-55-rare.html

Photo Hunt 54: Steps

In Greenwich Village, where I live, many of the brownstones have these steep steps leading up to the front door. While a bit of a navigational challenge to old people, they do provide the icing on the architectural cake with their fanciful wrought iron railings, and are rather too tempting to passers-by who like to cool their heels, smoke a cigarette, or eat a slice of pizza.
Steps such as these are generally referred to as "stoops."

Now, what's interesting is how steps and stoops, which in this case are one in the same, can have not only such different connotations, but can actually refer to very different things.
For instance, the collective steps is generally positive: Baby's first steps, taking steps, following in someone's footsteps, the Twelve Steps of AA....etc etc.
Stoop, on the other hand, is about taking the low road. as in She Stoops to Conquer. A "stoop" can be a stupid person. Stoop also means a dive toward prey by a bird of prey such as a raptor.
Ray (below) has a toy raptor, which doesn't fly although it does waddle around making a weird noise.

Here at our building (the one below) neighbors used to sit on the stoop in nice weather and people watch. Recently, however, there has been a power struggle among the shareholders.
Some neighbors have accused other neighbors of stooping to...well, it doesn't matter except to point out that these neighbors would like the Coop Board to take steps to have them punished.

Everyone knows the expression good fences make good neighbors. I have suggested that the building replace it's rusty fence here at the foot of the stoop with a stockade. Maybe something in wrought iron that will fit in with the surroundings.

Photo Hunt 54: Steps

http://raypod.blogspot.com/2007/04/photo-hunt-54-steps.html

Photo Hunt 53: Hobby

This is Ray. Monday, the sixteenth, is his birthday. He will probably get a card or two from his friends on Catster.

Ray and the rest of the cats have been on Catster for a little more than a year. If you don't know what it is, it's kind of hard to explain. I've heard it described as a social networking site for cats but, c'mon, the cats are just the front men, the avatars, for their owners. I would say that it takes anthropomorphism and virtual reality and tosses them up in the air to see how they land.

I guess you could call it a hobby.

Photo Hunt 53: Hobby

http://raypod.blogspot.com/2007/04/photo-hunt-53-hobby.html

Photo Hunt 51: Water

There's a greenway that runs along the Hudson River, from Battery Park at the southernmost end of Manhattan, to the George Washington Bridge roughly six miles north. This particular stretch, far west of Greenwich Village, I think of as my backyard.

I try to come down here every night after work because being on the river calms me down and puts everything into perspective. Maybe it's because the play of light on the water provides a sense of spaciousness even as it creates optical illusions, turning three dimensional shapes like a ferry boat into two-dimensional scrims like the backdrop on a set

After 9/11 it was hard for me to walk along the river. I could only make it a little ways downtown before I would start to cry and have to sit down on the path and wait until I could collect myself. As the weeks and then months passed, I could make it a little further before breaking down, but I would always be arrested by the sight of these old pilings, poking up out of the water. They looked to me like sentinels, or ghosts. Fingers pointing up to the sky.

Now I walk along the river, and sometimes I don't even think about that day, the bright blue heavens, and the bodies falling through it.

Photo Hunt 51: Water

http://raypod.blogspot.com/2007/04/photo-hunt-51-water.html