I am cleaning out my bookshelves. I really need to take a hard look at this sort of situation. Why, exactly, do I need this nine inch stack of books, an incomplete encyclopedia of technology, circa 1987? The books appear to have been produced for an adolescent audience; it’s the sort of thing a middle school student would have used to write a report about tin, tires, toilets, toothpaste, tornados. Or perhaps space weapons, xerography, magnetic tape?
The illustrations and photography are incredible though; perhaps I am reading too much into these books, but to me they are a sort of document of American technological hubris at the twilight of the Cold War.
I’d bought the books about eight years ago from a vendor on 6th Avenue in Greenwich Village. Most of the booksellers there are men living marginally between half way houses and homeless shelters. They find their stock in the garbage or are given unwanted books by people in the neighborhood.1
The bookseller I’d bought this encyclopedia from was once a fixture at Father Demo Square.2 When not selling, he’d pack up his inventory into plastic USPS mail buckets, wrap them up with a blue tarp and then lash everything to the top of a pay phone bank. When I was browsing these encyclopedias, intending to buy one or two volumes, he told me he’d give me a deal if I took them all explaining, “Cause man, it’s gonna rain and I don’t want to move that shit around another night.”
That particular bookseller and his pay phones are now both long vanished from 6th Avenue.
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These men’s stories are well documented by sociologist Mitchell Duneier in his book, The Sidewalk. ↩
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Though called a “square” this three sided park fails to meet the geometric definition. A friend once commented while walking by, “Poor Father Demo. They promised him a square but all he got was a triangle.” ↩
Filed Under
Other moments in New York
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Espressoing
in New York, United States -
A few more days
in New York, United States -
Goodbye
A final Hi meeting
in New York, United States -
meditation, Creativity
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
in New York, United States -
Web, development
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
in New York, United States -
subway, music
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
in New York, United States -
Feminism
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
in New York, United States -
Travel
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
in New York, United States -
stars, Grandma, Love
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."
in New York, United States