
High contrasts by EVG contributor jdx

"The availability just follows the rhythms of the day — in the mornings during the rush to go to work there are no bikes, and after work there are no [parking spots] because everyone has brought them back.
When I first decided to use the bikes to ride to the train, I was late to work a few days because I searched a few stations around me, and couldn't find any bikes. Evenings have the exact opposite problem; on Monday evening, I checked 6th and B, 7th and A, then finally caught someone pulling out at St. Mark's and 1st and rushed to get into the spot.
I wasn't the only one slowly riding around in circles waiting for a free spot; I noticed at least 2 other riders that I kept intersecting. Somehow, weekends aren't that much better. On Saturday, I was late to meet a friend because I spent time again doing the checking-all-of-the-Citi Bike-stations dance. On a Saturday afternoon!
So, unfortunately, I think I might need to shift my thinking around the bikes as something that I can use when the opportunity arises, versus a reliable, regular transportation method.
I think our neighborhood really needs additional stations. I originally imagined a huge boost to the quality of life in the area, but it's not quite there yet."

"There have been a few signs of improvement recently, but not being able to find/dock a bike is still a frustrating issue. It used to be that if I left for work after 8:35 a.m., I knew not to expect to get a bike at my usual rack at 13th and A. Now it's less predictable — some days there might be a half-full rack, others all the bikes might have the red light on, and other's it'll be completely empty even if I'm early.
Same thing happens at night – if I leave work after a certain hour, I prepare myself for a trip around the East Village looking for a spot. Monday was a new record, when it took me 7 docks to find an open slot (13th and A, 10th and A, 14th and B, 12th and D, 9th and C, 5th and C, and 6th and B, until finally catching someone leaving at 7th and A). I think the most frustrating thing about those joyrides is that the app consistently says that openings are available at those docks.
I love the idea of Citi Bikes and still think they're the most exciting thing to happen to the city in a long time, but I hope they can pull this together."

[He] said his father is conscious, and will open his eyes if someone is in the room and talking to him. He can turn his head and point to people with his right arm, and can raise his right leg. But his left leg and ankle are injured, and he’s not moving that leg or his left arm, either.
He is also intubated — periodically put on a ventilator to help him breathe — and because the tube crosses over his vocal chords, he cannot currently talk.
In addition, as a result of brain injury suffered from the force of the impact, he has completely lost his memory, and currently doesn’t even recognize his own family members.

For many years, (’82 –’93) living at 60 Ave. B, Apt 2B, between 4th & 5th St., late at night, while laying in bed, I would hear wailings coming from the then named American Nursing Home, across the loading dock. It was a regular, nightly utterance — “arolegemmyt yato me air”, like hearing a cubistic coyote in the distant desert.
Again, another night lying in bed, say, 3:45 am, “aerol, aerol, osh oshh –mtwon”.
One night, when well oiled on mushrooms, it became clear to me.
“HAiRrrrOLDD, ET E OT O ERE”!!!
“HAROLD, GET ME OUT OF HERE”!
In the 80ies and into the 90ies, a grand yearly 4th of July party was held in the back seating area behind the loading dock. It was mainly a party for the staff, as the band hired yearly, was a sort of funk jazz R&B ensemble.
The old folks would be wheeled out and afflicted by the way too loud, amplified sound. You could see them pushing their arms forward, as if to push the offending sound away, as they then covered their ears, the staff trying to sell them on the musical offerings such as “Grooving, on a sunny afternoon, La La La.”
At some point, the lead singer, the MC, without any sense of irony, posed the question. “Does anyone here know who Old Blue Eyes is?” the one song in their set approaching era appropriateness for the audience.
After a few moments the band jumped into Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” — “And now the end is hear, and so I face the final curtain”.
It just felt, from my 2nd story window, a bit cruel ... and a bit funny too.
And so it went, and so it goes ...

There are five 1,200-square-foot two-bedroom, two-bathroom homes — two of which have private rooftop decks— and the sixth unit is a 900-square-foot ground level apartment, which has a private garden.

Through the changes of the Eighties, Nineties and the recent years, they still feel the same about their home.
"What a remarkable city!" Mel said passionately. "When I walk through the streets, however slowly, it keeps me alive."
There is no reason to pine for the good old days. They are still living them.









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