The Man with the Megaphone was probably Marty Markowitz (mmm alliteration), although at the time I had no idea who it was.

Chris, if you were affected by the transit strike the streets would be your treadmill… just a little more smelly.

My commute today: Left the house in Montclair at 6:32, caught the 6:37 to Hoboken. Jumped on the ferry to Pier 11 at Wall Street at about 7:15. Arrived at my company’s gym at 7:30 and was running on the treadmill at 7:40.

Transit strike? What transit strike?

As Rusty will tell you, I’m sort of a Christmas and Easter attender at Park Slope–other responsibilities elsewhere keep me from hanging there much.

And, was that just a man on the bridge with a megaphone, or was it the irrepressible Marty Markowitz, the best Borough President you could ask for?

http://www.brooklyn-usa.org/Press/2005/dec21b.htm

Kaimi – Yes, the blackout was quite an adventure. It took me 10 hours to get home from the Upper West Side (primarily on foot), and included one of my favorite New York memories: As we were crossing Brooklyn Bridge, there was a man, calling out into the exhausted, crowded darkness with a megaphone: “Welcome home, Brooklyn. Everything will be all right,now. You’re home now, you’re in Brooklyn now. Welcome home, Brooklyn.” It was the first time I felt that perhaps Brooklyn really was home.

Mark’s right, I’ve never even been to Flatbush. I was speaking of Flatbush Ave. And no Kaimi, I don’t live in Brooklyn Heights either… we’re not all lawyers :)

I should also report that I rollerbladed into work today. Much, much faster. I tell you, if only those pioneers had rollerblades they could have bypassed a lot of hardships.

I should have remembered you clerked in the Eastern District–Weinstein, wasn’t it?

For your information, Rusty is a denizen of Park Slope, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has never been to Flatbush.

But, we shouldn’t worry–as Thomas Wolfe said, Only the dead know Brooklyn. And though some of them may be reading T&S, they likely didn’t notice.

And then we took the kids outside and looked at the stars. It was great. That was the time that Jupiter was particularly close, and you could see it quite well.

And the next night, the kids asked us when we were going to have another blackout.

Mark,

Hey, I know a little bit about Brooklyn. I worked in Brooklyn for a year, after all. I got to know much of Brooklyn Heights pretty well; located the best bowl of Yankee bean soup near the courthouse; found some nice Middle Eastern places on Atlantic Avenue; shopped on Joralemon and at the little farmer’s market by the fountain; bought books by Borough Hall; made occasional forays into Cobble Hill and Dumbo; and of course ate pizza under the bridge. I weathered 9/11 at a friend’s house in Dumbo, and then took the A train home. And yes, I know where Flatbush is.

My problem isn’t lack of Brooklyn knowledge, but rather lack of Rusty knowledge. I’ve never been to his house and have very little idea where he lives (he may have told me; if so, I’ve forgotten). I sort of assumed that he was taking Flatbush Avenue from Flatbush. But of course, you’re right that he could be taking Flatbush Avenue from Park Slope or wherever.

I suppose I should have played it safe in the link and just said Brooklyn Heights, but that just didn’t sound colorful enough.