Last night in Connecticut I took part in a conversation with a 33 year old man who told me he was born in Flatbush. I started to muse about the wonders of Flatbush over the last 50 years. I could see his eyes start to drift elsewhere. So I knew to stop. I just ended with I could talk about Brooklyn forever. He laughed.
Today on the way back from Connecticut I stoped by Central Park (not in brooklyn) to see The Gates. All I can say inane. isane.
I hope they recycle that orange safron
This would never happen in Brooklyn.
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brooklynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!
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