A few fine men and women (and one impostor) at Columbia’s journalism school have, during the past few months, kept a running chronicle of Brooklyn. Take a look at www.TheBrooklynInk.com
New York, NY—I sneezed in the subway train to Brooklyn on the morning of September 11, and I half-expected someone to say, “Bless you.” The train was packed as ever, but a reverent silence soaked in the air. It would probably have been the same in 2002 (the year after) or 2006 (the fifth anniversary). Except I like to think someone would’ve said, “Bless you.” But it was September 11, 2007. It was not a special day; it was a good day to forget.
In the Upper West Side of Manhattan, where the conservative movement is confined to my Uzbek barber, political advertisements are thriving. From a bus stop billboard, Manhattan Mini Storage asks, “Is your closet scarier than Bush’s agenda?” Elsewhere, it’s an announcement: “Your closet’s so narrow it makes Dick Cheney look liberal.” A coffeeshop hosts a storefront display of “Global Warming” and “Disappearing Civil Liberties” coffee mugs. And a phone company offers some version of this: “Psst. Upper West Side latte-drinker. You’re liberal and we love you for it.” For a time I wondered why competitive companies would risk turning off whole segments of their market. But I quickly came to understand that one Uzbek barber is, sadly, not market enough. Unless, of course, it’s a market for mutton.
