king of queens

 It is so easy to say that where you live sucks. It’s even harder admitting that it’s not all that bad.

But recently, Brooklyn has been feeling, how you say, washed? 

We’re all part of the problem, including me. We all love hear big eyed thinking “is this what living is?” until we realize that this isn’t really living at all. I mean, going to the bar and not leaving until 3:30 AM is super sick, and I may or may not have done that in the last 24 to 48 hours, but, sustainability wise? That’s a whole different conversation. But I digress.

I took it upon myself to enjoy the beautiful weather from today and venture into NoMansLand, THE COUNTY OF QUEENS. 

It’s chic. It’s clean. There were, like, no rats. The security guard at the beer garden was nice to me? (!!!) This was an unprecedented event. 

Bushwick is loud, always on the go, and full of filth. And that’s part of the reason I love it there. It’s a very “coming of age” kind of neighborhood, until you realize that everyone that’s being priced out of Williamsburg (which is honestly Manhattan at this point) is seeping into Maria Hernandez, Irving Square, and Carmelos. 

Astoria is the lowly man’s dream. (More) Affordable housing, more space, quick access to Manhattan. You name it. I mean, let’s be real here. Astoria Park > McCarren. 

Alas, it was a great acid trip while it lasted. It slowly faded as I perused through my music catalog while driving on Grand Central, hoping that the stop and go traffic wouldn’t get in the way of putting in my password correctly to play La Medicina by Los Tetas. And while I can daydream about the day I become a Queens man, I must live in reality. My paisanos are playing their favorite tunes, and I may or may not have helped a street vendor move her cooler down the double set of stairs at the subway. A beer at the corner bodega still costs $2.50, and the cashier clerk will still wave to me from time to time. 

It’s ok to bitch every now and again.