Cab-pocalypse: Hell no, fare hikes

We are just going to get right to the point here: The TLC (not the one we actually like) is formally considering a proposal from the yellow cab industry to raise fares 20%.

Um, AYFKM?

Who is doling out the crack they are all smoking at the TLC?

Is this just to appease the yellow cab drivers for the whole outer borough green cab nonsense?

HOW IS THIS HAPPENING?  

Some Metropolitan Diary for your rainy Tuesday

Dear Belt Parkway (a Brooklyn tale of woe, with a soupçon of Staten Island thrown in for good measure),

I despise you, Belt Parkway. You are just miles and miles of miserable tie-ups, never-ending construction, and gut-wrenching “signs” (both literal and figurative), that are, to put it mildly, less than truthful.

For instance, why do you welcome me to Brooklyn, Belt Parkway, with a “How Sweet It Is!”, when you really mean “What you lookin’ at?”

Why, parkway Mobil stations, do the signs say “Gas Left” when you are all out?

Why, Department of Transportation, do you warn me that “Lanes Narrow” when you mean to say: “Lanes Nonexistent. Feel free to carve out your own. We dare you to call 511 [in an emergency]. Either way, we won’t pick up.”

Why, Belt Parkway, do you proclaim “Men at Work: Fixing Bridge Pylons,” when you actually mean, “Men fixing to work, watching bridge pile-ons”?

Why, when I pass Knapp Street, am I suddenly sleepy? And, why, when I pass Sheepshead Bay, am I imagining an inlet of lamb stew?

And, nearing the end, why do you finally, across the Verrazano Bridge, lead to Victory Boulevard, when, in fact, all I feel is a crushing sense of defeat?

Medellin: Land of the Metrocable, the ghost of Pablo Escobar, some shoddily constructed libraries, and very steep topography.

Sometimes years after visiting a city, it still makes cameos in your daily conversations / shows up in your dreams / makes you sigh dreamily.

Medellin is one of those cities.

In this surprise treat of an article, the NYT has captured the many elements of its allure.

Get ready to pack your bags, kids.

What sets Medellín apart is the particular strength of its culture of urbanism, which acts now almost like a civic calling card.

Just a little more love for the bus in Metropolitan Diary

Dear Diary:

One weekday evening this past winter, I boarded a M102 bus at 50th Street and Lexington going downtown. It had been a long day at work, and I had just gone to the gym to relieve some stress. I was a bit discombobulated when I got on the bus (carrying work clothes, gym bag and a few other things) and headed to my favorite corner seat in the back to relax.

When I arrived home, I realized I had left my wallet on the bus. Having left my wallet on a city bus once before (that time, the wallet was found; the dispatcher called me and the wallet was returned), I took a deep breath, and made calls to cancel credit cards and determine whatever else needed replacing. I went to bed extremely disappointed in myself for being so careless.

At 3 a.m. my phone rang, and a voice said: “Did you leave your wallet on a Lexington Avenue bus tonight? This is the bus driver’s wife, and I apologize for calling at this hour, but I figured you were anxious and would want to know that my husband, the driver, found your wallet in the back of the bus and would like to return it to you.”

I was so grateful and relieved. The driver and I made arrangements to meet the next day for the wallet exchange (with a nice thank-you reward for him). After a lot of handshaking and a big hug, I went home that night with a smile on my face knowing there are good people out there.

(Fast-forward to the next week.)

I board a M102 bus at 59th and Lex going downtown, again distractedly after a hard day at work. As I’m preparing to exit on 23rd Street, I hear over the P.A. system, “Ms. H, do you have your wallet with you?”

It was my favorite bus driver, still looking out for me!

Duh, Barack lived in Brooklyn! Is he responsible for all the gentrification?

wnyc:

emlocke:

In Brooklyn Brownstone, Future President Found a Home on the Top Floor - NYTimes.com
By James Barron and Peter Baker; Photo © Michael Nagle for The New York Times
May 2, 2012 

The fact that Mr. Obama and his girlfriend at the time lived on the top floor in the mid-1980s was news on Second Street in Park Slope, Brooklyn, where the 109-year-old house is one in a handsome line of homes stretching toward Eighth Avenue … Roscoe Robinson, who now shares the top floor of the house with his brother, had not heard about it until a reporter rang the doorbell and showed him a printout of the excerpt.

“You’re kidding,” Mr. Robinson, 21, said.

The revelation … would add to Prospect Park’s claim that a future president used to run there.

Quick! Check the Park Slope Food Coop records! —A.P.

Birth of the bicycle!

usagov:

Image description: In 1817, Karl Drais, a young inventor in Baden, Germany, designed and built a two-wheeled, wooden vehicle that was straddled and propelled by walking swiftly. Drais called it the laufmaschine or “running machine.”

By 1818, the draisine craze reached the United States, but the high cost of the vehicle, combined with its lack of practical value, made it little more than an expensive toy. The two-wheeled vehicle would not become sustained until pedals were added in the late 1800s.

Photo from the Smithsonian National Museum of American History

My love ode to the City Island Nautical Museum.

Vote to fund this lovely, underappreciated gem.  

When the Lower East Side had cred…

Back in the day, some things went down on the LES. Over at Untapped Cities, I help spell out and celebrate the value of the Tenement Museum.

Vote for it!

Celebrating Living Room

Over at Architizer, I celebrate the impressive Living Room: Housing Works Builds Housing.

Cab-pocalypse: Who let the color blind guy choose the color?

The saga known as Cab-pocalypse is a favored topic around here, and the latest installment has just hit (smacked us in the unsuspecting face!) with the announcement of the chosen color for the “Boro Taxi.”

Ew. AYFKM?

What kind of sickly genetically modified Key Food Malus domestica is the Mayor eating that he thinks this color qualifies as apple green? Please don’t ever eat an apple or anything else that hue.

In addition to the extremely serious and unsightly problem of the color itself, there’s the not so small fact that the livery drivers (rightfully so, they are a classy bunch) don’t even want to be seen driving around in cabs that color.

Let’s just go ahead and quote directly:

“It’s repulsive,” he said. “When people get dressed up to go out for the evening, they want to see a black car, not this.” He motioned to the newspaper photo. “My work car is also my personal car. Do you think I want to drive home in that?”

Experts and non- alike are weighing in on the misnomer of the color: Pistachio, Wasabi, Mint….

“If you’re going to reference an apple, then reference an apple, and give it some humanity — don’t design something that’s like a plastic toilet brush,” Professor Boskett said.

“Give it some subtlety; give it some nuance,” he continued. “This just looks like they covered it in one big, pasty green.”

Let’s settle on misguided non-gendered baby room green?