Brooklyn Bob

The big boy eagle is in its nest.

The truck is finally back to U-Haul (14 days late) and my stuff is in their mini-storage facility. I’m at the Larchmont Hotel near NYU. Without a cancellation, I’ll have to move again tomorrow. I’ve stayed here before and like the neighborhood, but unfortunately they’re booked solid.

The important news is really back there rather than here. Please post (anyone) what’s happening with the fire. It sounds really bad.

Okay, it’s been said before…but this trip felt like a lunar excursion.

What a wonderful ending to this odyssey. Well, not quite the end. I’ve still got to get my personal stuff in to a storage place and turn the truck in. Plus, I’ve got to go back to Ebbets Field and water the plants! BTW, this is the hallowed ground of Ebbets Field and the school is filled with Dodger memorabilia. How cool to see one of Jackie Robinson’s uniforms in a showcase.

Guess what? Most of the plants are going to live! There’ll be a few that won’t make it but what a testimonial to sub-irrigation and hydroculture container plant irrigation. I’d like to drag a few horticulturists (by their ears) from Brooklyn Botanic Garden over to the school. It’s just a stones throw away. Maybe I will!

On with the story. Of course I got lost getting there. Do not ever use Google or Mapquest for a truck trip. Their mapping is for cars!

I finally turned onto McKeever Place…just enough room for my truck but no room for oncoming traffic. I pulled up to a building that looked like the school and called on my cell phone. I was in the right place and Celeste Walker came out. She got the “plant donation” assignment from Margie Baker. Small problem, I needed to do a U-turn to park by the entrance. A friendly hard-hat guy became my hand-gesture navigator and we were finally ready for the grand entrance.

We couldn’t roll the racks off the truck as originally planned. The science lab is on the 3rd floor with no elevator. Soon, a parade of boys under Ms. Walker’s direction appeared outside. BTW, there was now a light drizzle falling. Into the truck I went, found a hand saw and started cutting stretch wrap, cords and ropes. Matt Wood did a fantastic job. These plants would not have made it without his work.

The boys got in line and hand carried all the plants up stairs. Enrique (SF Forty-niners jersey) was the lead, point man of the plant bucket brigade. It seemed every time I looked there were more boys lined up.

I wish I could have seen them, but I was in the truck drenched with sweat cutting my way to access the plants. We were all like an ant colony, if you get the picture. This all had to be done under time pressure before the bell rang for them to go home. What a scene! There definitely should have been a TV news crew there. I’ll never forget it.

Finally, all the plants were off the truck and I could go upstairs and see their new home. Remember the bad day at Bush Terminal. Well, this was the good day at Ebbets Field. The science lab room easily housed all the plants. The room has both windows and overhead fluorescent lights, which are now on all night. These plants have a neat new home, that’s for sure.

While I was checking things, a young woman came in. It was science teacher Sherlyne Gilles. It’s her lab. This young lady is a plant lover and a pleasure to talk with. I will do everything I can to help her. She attempted to build an indoor greenhouse in a section of the lab. Unfortunately this is not the neighborhood for an outdoor greenhouse.

I met a number of other teachers before I left for the day. What a joy to communicate with some bright-eyed young people who don’t see me as “the enemy”. I’m sure there were a number of them who were wondering who this honkie geezer was, but I’m going to make some good friends here.

I want to mention that Ms Walker and another teacher whose name I don’t remember were going the same route as the way to this HOJO. They never let me out of their sight. It seemed each time I was apprehensive about the directions they miraculously appeared to guide me. They did, right to the hotel door. That was much appreciated. This is not an easy place to be driving a 26′ truck.

Okay, what a day, I’m wired and it’s getting late. Gotta get up and finish the job. Then, I get to back to a normal life even if it’s in a hotel room…but without a truck filled with plants in jeopardy parked outside. I’ve got to admit, there were many times when I did not think there would be a happy ending to this story…but it couldn’t have been happier, that’s for sure!

BFN BB

I’m checking out and on my way to Ebbets Field.

A sheet of paper has been folded into my laptop the whole way. It says

“If you keep asking, eventually someone will say yes.”

Alan Cohen

The name Margaret Baker will be forever engraved in my mind. She is the principal of the Ebbets Field Middle School, not far from Brooklyn Botanic Garden, The Brooklyn Children’s Museum, the Brooklyn Academy of Science and the Environment and Prospect Park.

Can you think of a better, more fitting location for the plant lab? I can’t! This neighborhood was my vision long ago but I thought it was going to be BBG.

In the midsts of my despair this morning, there was one lonely email about the plant lab in my inbox. It was from Margaret, saying “Hey Bob. We may be able to help. Give me a call…” I’ll frame the message.

A long time ago in the ‘40s and ‘50s I lived and died rooting for the beloved ‘bums’ of Ebbets Field. I remember Mickey Owens dropped 3rd strike and all those years when “the boys of summer” would win the NL pennant only to lose to the damn Yankees in the World Series. I also remember Bobby Thompson’s home run.

Then finally in 1955 they beat the Yankees and became world champs. I took a sick day from my job at Grumman Aircraft to watch the game on TV. There were no more “wait to next year” mutterings.

But then, that SOB Walter O’Malley sold out the people of Brooklyn and moved to L.A. as did Horace Stoneham moving the hated Giants to S.F. Ebbets Field was demolished and became just a memory for older folks. Brooklyn has never really recovered from O’Malley’s stab in the back even with the arrival of the Mets.

I’m going to believe to my dying day that the ghosts of Jackie Robinson, Roy Campanella, Pee Wee Reese, Gil Hodges…Lisa and other angels whispered in Margaret’s ear saying softly “save Bob’s plants.” She did. I’ll be there tomorrow at 1 in my truck.

Who is ever going to believe this story? The tears just won’t stop.

I’m writing this from the same room I was in last night at the Hampton Inn in Linden, NJ. It’s a nice room but certainly not where I want to be.

I won’t call it misrepresentation but the storage facility in Bush Terminal (Sunset Park) was nothing like the image projected by the website. It was a decrepit old building (a gun factory in WWII) and the storage rooms were dark pits with only a single bulb in a ceiling fixture. We’re talking 15-amp service here.

It looked like there might be a solution but it was not to be. While I was waiting for some one to come back with a flashlight I noticed light at the end of the corridor. There was a large “picture” window and adequate space for the plant racks. Perhaps this was the “light at the end of the tunnel.” Unfortunately, I learned that city building inspectors will not allow any material in the aisles. End of that idea.

I took the time to get to know Ruben from Ecuador, the guy who manages the spaces for the owner. He understood my need and acknowledged that not only was it dark but that the building got cold inside if the weather outside turned cold and windy. He is a guy who likes plants in his yard and in his home. He gave me a lead on another building nearby but there was no one there. Having this happen on a weekend is bad timing.

Finding a hotel room in Brooklyn (with parking) when you’re pushing a 26’ truck around is problematic so that prompted the decision to drive back over the Verrazano Bridge to the Hampton Inn to rest and regroup. I’m trying to understand why this project is so difficult.

BFN, BB

The ref was counting yesterday but I’m back on my feet.

Don Sherman was most helpful in locating a temporary storage facility in Brooklyn on Craigslist. It’s just over a mile down the hill on the waterfront from where I was born in Sunset Park (Finntown back in those days). How serendipitous is that?

That’s where I was headed yesterday after my visit with Rich Parker of Parker Interior Plantscape. My Mapquest route was through the Holland and Brooklyn Battery Tunnels. See the banner on InsideGreenNYC.

Well, it didn’t happen. I got all the way to the Holland Tunnel entrance. There was a guy on the street peddling bottled water. He asked if I was planning on driving my truck through the tunnel. Duh, well of course I was. He said, “You can’t go through there with a truck. No trucks allowed since 9/11.” He then proceeded to give me directions to the Lincoln tunnel. A most helpful guy he was.

However, this was the start of an episode of The Raiders of the Lost Ark. Think pits of pythons, packs of jackals, pterosaurs flying overhead. The detour route marked by little temporary signs with concrete road barriers everywhere was indescribable.

The result was that I did a couple of tricky u-turns, missed the turn to the Lincoln Tunnel and ended up on the NJ Turnpike heading to the George Washington Bridge. That definitely ain’t the best way to Brooklyn

That when I pulled in to a rest area about 5:30 pm and called the storage place. There was no way I would get there by closing at 7 pm. When I told the guy about crossing Manhattan he said don’t do that, come over the Verrazano Bridge and you’ll land in Brooklyn not far from us.

Duh, who ever thought of getting there by the Verrazano Bridge? So to end this for now, I finally found a Hampton Inn at the same exit I need to go to cross the bridge. The room is bigger than the apartments I’m likely to find in Brooklyn. There’s even a Jacuzzi next to the bed. It looks like the general manager’s suite.

So, it’s on to the waterfront in Sunset Park to see what’s in store for today’s adventure.

It needs to be said that there would be no adventures if not for the professional truck packing job done by Matt Wood. Hell, I didn’t even know how important it was. If he hadn’t done such a superb job of loading the plants on the rack and the racks on the truck I would never have made it this far. I had no idea how many bad roads we have across the country. Some of them shook the hell out of the truck. It’s amazing that everything (so far as I know) stayed intact. We’ve got a lot of infrastructure work to do, that’s for sure.

BFN BB

Thoughts for the day (unedited):

*I’m 6′with long legs. These trucks are not made for short people.

*Most country music in English is really bad. I like mine in Spanish. Heard some in New Mexico but that’s been about it.

*Driving through New Mexico reminded me of Maria Benitez, a world-class Flamenco dancer and a world class creative artist. I saw her several times in concert in SoCal but wish I had traveled to Sante Fe to see her. Her husband is a primo stage lighting artist. They used to live part time in NYC and Maria danced at the Joyce Theatre (what a neat venue). I don’t know if she’s dancing any more, but I’ll be at the Joyce again, that’s for sure.

*Someone should start a blog/website with a Starbucks city ranking index. Avoid all cities without Starbucks.

*Heard my first and only classical music in the Albuquerque area. The annual balloon fest was going on but I didn’t see any except on local TV in my room this am.

*Although this move and cross country truck trip is one of the toughest things I’ve done in my life, I have no doubt that I made the right decision. It ranks right up there with my early life going to Hofstra 4 nights a week, working full time at Grumman and trying to be a parent. Big difference between doing stuff like this in your ’70s vs. ’20s.

*I’m having to rewire my brain on this trip. My fixed routine of the past 10 years is history. I’m grateful that my mind is still alert. It’s getting plenty of exercise.

*I need a haircut and still have red eyes from the Calif sand storm. I look like an old Texas wrangler. That’s okay for here but not for the Big Apple.

*This trip would be a hell of a lot easier with a navigator in the other seat.

BFN BB

The trip has finally started. I left late yesterday morning. After a long day, which included driving throuh a blinding sandstorm west of El Centro, I got off the road in Peoria, AZ and checked in to a Comfort Suites. As some of you know I am a complete newbie in the wireless world…new laptop and new cell phone. Learning how to use them under pressure is not the wisest thing I’ve done. Anyway, I finally got in to my room, it’s late and I’m checking my stuff out. It’s the first chance to connet to the web.

All of a sudden I hear a chirp. Although I hadn’t heard this sound before, my first thought was my cell phone. I started listening to every digital device in the room and couldn’t find it. I even thought it might be a sound from the room phone. I could not find the source of the annoying chirp. I went down to the front desk to ask the desk clerk if she knew anything about cell phones. When I told her that there was a chirp in my room, she said it’s probably the smoke detector. Sure enough, that’s what it was. I had to repack my stuff and change rooms. The end of a perfect day.

Incidentally, I’ve got digital pics but don’t know how to upload them yet in this new Apple world.

Time to get on the road again….ever eastward.