The week started out on a relatively routine note -- work and life as usual. Of course, the end of the week marked the 8th anniversary of the September 11 attacks. In this area, the attacks had a big impact. We will never forget and we are forever changed.
My week end had its own delightful twist. Come along for my journeys -- clicking on an image will open it larger in a new window. All photos were taken by me. I'm not proud.
A man in red does a double take at two Plainfield (NJ) narcotics officers walking up the street. Not as clear as I would have liked it, using layers to make the background black and white while leaving the Stop hand and people in color.
It's coming 'round the bend
I ain't seen the sunshine
In I don't know when
-- "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash
It rained for a good portion of the week. No one can smoke cigars on NJ Transit trains anymore. I remember Metro North used to have a bar car. We have no such thing. Plainfield Train Station
A portion of Plainfield's North Street near the train station. Why was one building allowed to deteriorate so much while the others were obviously rehabbed at some point?
Well, I do (keep reading). But we have a huge international touch right here in Plainfield.
I love their croissants, but they're so often sold out of them that I don't stop by as often as I once did. Plainfield, NJ
Someone has been creeping in, I say. Plainfield, NJ.
Oh, if I can't wear my Head Rag, I'm not going! Er ... I've never been in there anyway. Bar rules on Richmond Street in Plainfield, NJ
Er, no. I said I had to go to Spanish Harlem, otherwise known as El Barrio or East Harlem. But this isn't there either. It's 8th Avenue near the Port Authority Terminal yesterday. Who says all the sleaze is gone from Times Square? This is just a few blocks from there and something folks getting off buses see.
Um, self-explanatory. Midtown Manhattan yesterday.
NYC subway tunnel. I'm actually heading to the 7 train to go east, then the 6 to go north.
I think I just like to take train pictures.
I liked the lights.
So I had to take a shot at it.
Yes, I've emerged from the underground and I'm up on the streets in El Barrio. Lyrics in the caption from "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" by Elton John.
A doorway on 110th Street. I think the mouse is leading us into the gates of hell ... or something.
Yes! That mouse led us right into Hell Gate! Um, okay it's just the local post office.
I'd rather not have any ice from there, thank you very much. El Barrio, Manhattan
Now it's PG enough for the blog. No, I didn't do the editing. El Barrio street art memorial.
Gee, I always thought it meant something along the lines of "the neighborhood." Silly me.
No, not the van ... the building. NYC Animal Care and Control. I'm here on a mission. Interesting things which happened while I was there:
- Two NYPD officers stood around and waited for a raccoon to be removed from their patrol car.
- I saw several people bring in donations of food, blankets, and such.
- A rottweiler being brought in bit one of the workers.
- Two early-twenties jerks asked a worker how to turn over their dog. Worker, "What's wrong with the dog?" Jerk 1, "I don't need it anymore." Worker repeats, "What's wrong with the dog?" Jerk 2 repeats, "We don't need the dog anymore." Worker and I both make eye contact and shake our heads in disgust. For me, pets are family.
"My muñequita, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa" ... (lyrics from "Smooth" by Carlos Santana). Uh ... I guess it would have to be my "muñequito" as he's male. I'm not so keen on the Mona Lisa reference, but he is neutered. "Muñequita" in Spanish means "little doll." Let's try another song -- "There is a
Although I picked him up and took him home from El Barrio, he was actually a stray caught on the streets in or near Riverside Park (Manhattan). They estimate him at about five years old. He was assigned a number (A828344), a name (Sal), dewormed and given his basic shots on September 4. He was already neutered when they picked him up. They gave him his rabies shot and microchipped him yesterday before I could take him home.
He's a love. I didn't like the name Sal and since that was just something assigned to him, I renamed him Vincent Riverside.
It's not quite like snakes on a plane.
He gets around, doesn't he? He didn't make a peep other than to purr whenever I reached in the carrier to pet him.
He loves his new toy, his cat mat, his window, and my lap.
Judging from his behavior, he had to have been a loved pet at one time. He's affectionate, doesn't get on the kitchen counter, doesn't destroy things (although he walked on top of my PlayStation and turned it on), and uses his litter box. He seems taken with me and I'm taken with him.
Special thanks go out to Sydney, RBennie, Margo, Delee, PDX Granny, Auntie Leigh, Laurie, Donna in AL, Terry in CA, Meb, Sizzie, Becky, Nana, and Laurie. You know why ... especially Sydney.