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Greetings from Bed-Stuy


Well, technically Bed-Stuy but now called either Stuyvesant Heights or Franklin Heights. Twenty years ago if anyone told me I'd be living here I'd have thought they were out of their minds. But then who would have thought Richard Serra would give the Commencement Speech at Williams College telling them basically: you should be like me. I've been black but now that I'm back ...

Anyway, I have my own place now at:

Robbin Murphy
677 Lincoln Place, #6
Brooklyn, New York 11226


The mailbox doesn't lock and there is a pile of mail for the former inhabitants. The refrigerator doesn't work and there was no bottle of Jack Daniels under the kitchen sink (The reason Jasper Johns took a loft in his younger days) but it's home for now for this vagabond.

It's just off Eastern Parkway at Bedford. The Franklin Ave. subway (2,3,4 train) is just around the corner and the Botanic Gardens/Prospect Park/Brooklyn Museum are a few blocks away. Then again the notorious Bedford Atlantic homeless shelter is just a few blocks the other way. I see a few hipsters walking down the street and some tough lesbians from my window but mainly it's a Caribbean/Hasidic neighborhood. There are young orthodox women jogging down Eastern Parkway dressed in long skirts and wigs in the morning. The front door doesn't lock but then again the Trinidadian super, Henry, seems to spend most of his day standing out front with his albino pit bull, Blue, so I guess it's secure in its way. One of my neighbors greeted me yesterday with a "you're living here! I guess I don't quite fit her demographic.

And there's a wifi network called "Freedom" to leech from! Also, I think there may be a bordello across the street or I hope so. At least there is no Starbucks/Chase/Duane Reade on every corner.

Welcome Back!

Congrats on your new digs. Welcome back to the flagging thing.

Good to see you Murph.

Good to see you Murph. Let's all flag, or flog, our respective things. You can probably get some good Jamaican eats in your hood. Those spicy meat patties. Jerk chicken. Sour sop soup. Red Stripe Beer. Enjoy!

On Bed-Stuy

After living in Florida I've had my fill of Jamaican jerk chicken and most of the places around here look less than inviting. But I'll soldier on in finding a suitable deli. Really, I've had to do with the Dunkin Donuts on the corner for coffee. It's just like Florida.