I was intrigued to read on NostrandPark last week the idea that a preponderance of neighborhood bloggers is a sign of gentrification, along with an ever-increasing number of coffee shops and housing forums.
I’d like to make a list of anti-gentrification holdouts:
The ubiquitous dollar store. I submit as evidence the Indian-run joint on Franklin Ave and Lincoln Pl, a prime example of the nongentrified business, conceived and run as purely utilitarian. This store is a miracle of well-used space and convenience, so densely packed as to present a landslide hazard. Televisions are wedged in between maternity bras and melamine dishware. Think of something that may or may not even exist: a hair product that doubles as caulking, perhaps? The dollar store has it. In more than one brand.
Dog poo impunity. (see previous post.)
Every single Chinese take-out place is equipped with (what I assume is) bullet-proof glass, those two over-lapping panes that force you to bend your arm through to exchange food for money.
The gentleman who stands on the corner of my street. He’s as close to the Mayor of Crown Heights as I can imagine. He’s a drinking man, to put it mildly, and not at all shy. If there’s an ambulance or a gathering of police cars in the vicinity, chances are the Mayor is at the center of it, yelling. He’s always surrounded by people in a similar state of , um, relaxation, and he’s taller than most of them, making him something of a leader in these parts.
Cops. Everywhere.
