The Real Metropolis

A colossal high rise condominium still under work near Central Park South that towers above most of the others.  Up close you can see that it's an absolute work of art.  However, to the buildings right next to it...it's an eye sore as it "dates" them.

On Broadway near Central Park...what a beautiful lineup of tall buildings...old and newer.

Looking south from Central Park, you can see the row of high rises just looming over the park like sentinels watching over, as the tree foliage hasn't yet "sprung" this early spring to hide them from view.  The park is like a quiet oasis right in the heart of Manhattan...aka Metropolis.

The real 15 Central Park West up close.  It's definitely a beautiful building.  Trump International Hotel is right next door and though it is very glitzy with golden metal highlights...this building brings back old New York skyscraper limestone looks with a modern styling that makes it a work of art in its own right.

"Cop Killer - Part 1" © Introducing the Private iTeam by John S LES

"Cop Killer - Part 1"

© by John S LES

Introducing The Private iTeam

®

On an unusually cold night in March 2010, the New York City's police radio channels were eerily quiet.  There hadn't been a single call for anything jobs for nearly a full 30 minutes.  It seemed as if all the criminals and street hoodlums had taken the night off in the nearly zero freezing temperature.  However, that silence would be broken by a simple call for officer assistance.  At the time no one could even anticipate that what sounded like a simple call for assistance would explode into a crime scene that would rock the entire city through a wide range of emotions for the next two weeks.

"Central, this is 14 Crime.  I have a 10-85.  I'm in pursuit of a suspect, last name Santiago, first name Victor.  He's on foot, possibly armed.  I'm at 375 19th Street near the corner of 7th Avenue.  Subject is wearing a maroon puffy jacket, blue jeans, blue cap and sneakers and is trying to enter one of the abandoned buildings over here.  Going to do a vertical at 375."

"14 Crime, this is Central, that's a 10-4.  We are sending back up to your location 375, 19th street.  14 Crime can you 10-7 that address?"  Central tries again and again to make contact with Police Officer Anthony DeLorenzo of 14th precinct Anti-Crime unit, but there is no response.

Tension from DeLorenzo's silence on radio immediately raised the tension in all the police officers listening and responding.  Anti-Crime units usually work in teams or at least in pairs.  In this case, this was a lone Anti-Crime police officer on the radio, requesting a casual back up.  Then seconds later his voice had gone silent on the radio.

92 seconds later. 

"Central to all units responding to 375 19th Street, be advised we have a citizen's report of shots fired at 375 19th Street.  I repeat - shots fired at 375 19th Street.  We have a plainclothed MOS in area with no response on.  Possible 10-13, officer down.  Responding units proceed with caution and advise."

An NYPD helicopter is nearby and speeds towards the exact location of the officer.

"Aviation 5 to Central, we are responding to that shots fired call.  We are near 19th and 7th, we will update in less than 10 seconds."

"10-4. Aviation 5, this is Central, be advised we have an MOS reported to be at that area of the shots fired, requesting assistance - but we are unable to raise him on his radio."

"Aviation 5 to Central, that's a 10-4 we copy.  We will try to raise MOS.  Aviation 5 to Anti Crime 7 we are at your location putting the brights on, do you copy?  Ahh - Central this is Aviation 5, we are 10-84.  We are right over the corner of 19th and 7th Avenue, and we can see a man down.  I repeat we have a man down.  He's is not moving.  Possible MOS.  Roll a bus and sector cars - forthwith!"

Within a few more seconds, four patrol cars with their sirens blasting, pull to a screeching halt at the corner of 19th and 7th.  The area is illuminated by their emergency lights as well as the helicopter's intensely bright spot light and whirring rotary blades.

"Aviation to the patrol cars on scene, be advised infrared shows no other heat signatures on the rooftops in your area, but do approach with caution.  We will keep the area lit up with the high beam."

Under the high intensity beam of the helicopter's spotlight scanning the immediate area, eight police officers exit their patrol car with their guns drawn, looking around as they respond to the body on the ground.  It was clear that the victim had been mortally wounded as a glistening pool of blood slowly spread from underneath his head.  Two of eight officers immediately begin to inspect him, while the other six officers cover them.  They can see the victims gun by his side and his NYPD badge hanging out over his jacket, via his neck chain.

"Central this is 129!  Be advised we have a 10-13!  Officer down!  MOS is mortally wounded!  We need a patrol supervisor and a bus here forthwith!"

"129, this is Central, we copy, we have a 10-13 -  officer down.  EMS is responding.  ETA is 4 minutes.  Do you copy?"

"Central this is 129 - we do not have 4 minutes!  I repeat we do not have 4 minutes!  MOS Injuries are life threatening!  Requesting permission to take MOS in sector car to hospital forthwith!  We need an escort set up from 19th and 7th forthwith!"

129, this is Central, you are authorized to transport MOS forthwith.  Central to all responding units, 129 is requesting escort to hospital using 7th Avenue.  MOS in transport."


Five police officers picked up the mortally wounded officer, placed him in a patrol car and rushed him to the nearby hospital, but it was of no use.  Plain clothed Police Officer Anthony DeLorenzo was pronounced dead on arrival.  All efforts to revive him failed.  He was shot five times.  Three times in his chest and twice in his head, execution style.

A massive police manhunt commenced for Victor Santiago shortly after the shooting. Up until that night, Santiago was only known as a petty thief and low, street level member of a west side drug dealing gang.  Ironically, Santiago had lodged numerous complaints against the New York City police department for harassment.  Now he was the number one suspect in the murder of  a police officer.  The whole city was abuzz for this Cop Killer...



That's how it all started.  That was the match that lit the fuse that placed my little private investigation agency on a collision course with three powerful forces in New York City.  The police, the west side drug gangs and a small band of dirty cops.  That same night I was on the Upper Eastside of the city sitting in a mini-van, turned surveillance vehicle with my cantankerous uncle Xavier Bennit, or uncle "X" for short.  He was African American and my deceased mother's youngest brother who was in his early 50's.  Although you couldn't tell from his portly build, he was an accomplished martial artist in his younger years and was still an active teacher at the school he co-owned in Queens.  He and his buddies taught me and my siblings how to fight when we were growing up in Queens.

As for me, I was the product of a biracial marriage. My father, Niccolo or Nick. Sr was born and raised in Brooklyn and my mother Gloria grew up in Manhattan.  My name was Giovanni Jamaal Ferrari, or just Gio to most people, the middle child of three...an older brother Niccolo Jr. and our younger sister, Bianca.

Our "surveillance" was actually a souped up mini van that was parked on York Avenue.  We were taking digital pictures of Robert Walters, a late 40's, wealthy, Wall Street hedge fund manager, who was kissing and groping his mistress, Heidi Sherman, in her Mercedes.  Heidi was an attractive, mid 20's, cooperate tax attorney.  My client for this surveillance job was Mrs. Linda Walters.  Mrs. Walters had grown tired of her husband's dalliances and wanted to put an end to their marriage.  The Walters home residence was the luxurious condominium building, 15 Central Park West, which was clear across the other side of town.  Mrs. Walters had money to burn. She was born into money and married a successful man. The payday that she was going to give my agency's services was badly needed. I had to pay off a lot of bills for my high-technological upkeep, as I constantly needed funds to expand the amount of electronic gadgets that my agency could have at it's disposal.

My agency was the Private iTeam.  I had taken the agency over from my father when it had a different name.  Back then my father did a lot of insurance fraud investigation on the side after he retired from the police department with a highly decorated 25 year career and a gold detective's shield.  He had a couple of brothers and extended relatives who also worked in the police department, including my cousin, Alex Valentine, who had recently been promoted to Chief of Detectives.  After the death of my mother in a car accident, he just couldn't take working anymore.  He wanted to stay retired and concentrate on the thing that mattered most to him, his children.

I followed my father and his brothers into the police department.  I graduated from the academy in 2000 but, my life took a different turn after 9/11 when I signed up for Special Forces.  After I came back from the Gulf War as a retired US Army Ranger, my father handed over to me his private investigation business.  He felt that I could do more with the agency to help people where the police department couldn't.  After the lessons I learned overseas, I agreed with his thoughts.  I spruced up the agency by changing the name and used my military intelligence background to bring a more sophisticated electronic surveillance approach to the job.  I also expanded the agency to be able to do personal bodyguard security on the side to supplement the slow periods.

I set out to get my rejuvenated private investigation agency out of the dark ages of atypical private investigation jobs like cheating spouses, runaway teens and stolen identities.  I was looking to develop a more affluent clientele for the company and get us some more "sexier" assignments.  If I could get a steady stream of clients who didn't mind paying upfront or in the high five digits, I would be more than satisfied.

So what were we doing in that bitter cold night of winter in January in New York City?  Gathering incriminating evidence of an affair for the wife of a wealthy man.  I guess I did improve our clientele base?  But we were still working the same old type of case...a cheating spouse.

Our customized surveillance van had enough equipment in it to revile some small town police undercover units.  But there was room for improvement.  We just had the basics.  A two person desk set up with 2 monitors, boom mics that looked like antennas that could be mounted on the outside and radio scanners to catch not only police, fire and ambulance radio transmissions, but we could also pick up unsecured police radio transmissions and some cellular phone transmissions.  We also unofficially had wireless computer hacking abilities.  I had an onsite mainframe at my office in Bayside, Queens.  My backup site was located elsewhere.

"Gio, how much longer do we need to sit here photographing this Casanova getting his hump on with his mistress?  I could be home right now drinking a cup of hot chocolate getting my own hump on."

"Oh, I say we stay here for just a few minutes more.  If we can get a picture of him getting picked up by his private car and to the airport that would be the cherry on top of the sundae."

"In another minute we're going to be taking pictures of him dry humping Ms. Sundae.  Aren't we good already?"

"Yeah, I guess between this and the text messages we have from the phone cloning, the videos, the audio from the hotel room - yeah I guess we can wrap this one up.  So you'll get your $120 on Friday for the 4 hours of work today.  I would never cheat my favorite uncle out of a nice paycheck."

"See now, that's why I always say good things about you, Gio.  I don't believe a word when I hear people calling my nephew cheap."

We packed up the equipment and uploaded all information back to my office for review the next day.  However, we couldn't help but have some concern over the alarming police radio transmissions that our scanner had picked up.  It didn't sound good at all.  But it was time to head back to Queens.

The next morning the police manhunt was all over the news.  As I drove from my little bachelor pad, my Playboy like four bedroom house, to my office on Bell Boulevard, all of radio stations and TV news stations were abuzz over the shooting of Officer DeLorenzo.  There were interviews with witness and comments from the Mayor, the Commissioner and DeLorenzo's wife, Christina, who was also a uniform police officer on the Upper Westside.  His fellow anti-crime police officers and his wife were all grief stricken in their interviews.  Even more importantly, it was announced in the news that DeLorenzo was the nephew of a Deputy Commissioner.  Whoever this Victor Santiago was, he wasn't going to be able to hide out for too long.  It felt like the whole city was being pressured to turn him in just to make the police happy to get their vengeance.

My secretary Martina "Marti" is half Italian, half Puerto Rican and 100% brains.  She is one of the most mentally organized, strategic people I have ever met, a byproduct of her upbringing being the only girl and middle child of 2 older and 2 younger brothers.  She gave me her normal rundown on the list of messages the agency received overnight.  Out of the 20 messages I received for possible jobs only one of them stood out.  I had received several phone calls from a friend of mine who had joined the priesthood while I was overseas fighting.  Father Manuel Cabron had called me and asked me to get back in touch with him as soon as possible.  I made a quick call to Mrs. Walters to let her know that the printouts for everything we had would be available for her and her attorneys as soon as she wanted them.  She wanted to meet with me at her apartment at 15 Central Park West and bring her the folder on everything we had at 10:30.

My next call was to Father Manuel.  He answered and asked for me to meet him at his parish, St. Emeric church over on east 12th street.  He would not be specific, but he insisted that I come immediately.  That he had information on something that would be worth investigating.  When I asked him what could possibly be so important, he told me he had information concerning last nights murder of a police officer.  I had advised him that he should turn over that information to the police, not me.  "Gio, we've known each other for a long time...since high school.  I could really use your help and unique insight to this situation."

At that point I had no choice but to make my appointment with him at 1:30pm.

It wasn't even 8:55am and now I had to be ready to cross into two completely different worlds.  The rest of my team hadn't come into the office yet.  When we weren't on assignments, or closing a case, we always showed up the next morning at 9am for a quick recap and briefing on the next assignment.  But since I was in so early, I just took the time to go into my back office and pick out one of the four Armani suits I had hanging inside for such surprise occasions when I would be meeting with wealthy clientele on the fly.  I changed out of my casual dress.  By the time I came out of my office 30 minutes later, the rest of my team was in.

First in was Darren "Big" Briggs.  Darren was slightly taller than me at 6'4, muscular, athletic and a retired Marine from Iraqi Freedom.  Darren had a little bit of a past life of being a young street thug before going to a karate school in Harlem and getting his life together.  He got his college degree and joined the Marines.  His unit and mine actually did some work together overseas in Fallujah and that's how our relationship started.  He was looking for some work to use his skills back at home, and I had an open door.

Next was the attractive, medium but muscular built, blond haired, Noelle Dobbs.  She was also a retired soldier, but had been living the civilian life a couple years longer than Darren and I.  She was originally from Texas, could operate and handle any handgun in the world and could speak five languages.  The end result of being the daughter of a military husband and wife overseas.  Noelle looked natural in a workout outfit or a pair of jeans and work boots.  However, when pressed, she could dress up very nice.

Then there was the youngest member of our team, Chris Graham.  Chris was in his late 20's and athletic but could still pass for a college kid.  He was the son of an Irish police officer and was a Boston cop himself before he left the force due to political issues in the department.  Chris was a complete chameleon of a person and could blend in with just about any population.  He was also a master at disguises and accents.

Working at a location in Brooklyn was our part time team member, Dr. Grace Chong.  She was an MIT graduate, former NYU professor, who had earned her PhD in the field of computer technology and artificial intelligence.  When I came back to the civilian life and took a computer class at NYU, she was my professor.  Our conversations after class lead to her helping set up and build the technological infrastructure of the agency.

Lastly, but not least was Walter "The Edge" Edgefield.  He was a retired army intelligence cryptologist and master NSA code breaker.  He was also my former counter intelligence instructor during my Special Forces training.  Although he was not in the office and was too cryptic of a person to ever even step foot into our office, he was an important, unofficial part of my team.  He just stayed on the outside and only stepped in when we needed big help.  Whenever I ran into an informational problem...I could always depend on Edge to help bail me out.  Just in his mid-fifties, Edge, had a lot of powerful protectors in his own life.  He knew where a lot of important people's skeletons were buried because he helped bury them.  His secret friends included the military, politicians, celebrities and law enforcement.  He never stepped out of line, and he was never bothered either.

Our company attorney on retainer was the ever so beautiful, Ms. Aliyah Mitchell.  She was tall, black and extremely attractive.  When you looked at her, you figured she was a model, who just liked walking around town in power suits carrying a briefcase.  That was a mistake a lot of people made.  Aliyah was not just a pretty face.  She was a court room shark and an indefatigable, litigious nightmare underneath that gorgeous smile.  Because she was so pretty, you initially didn't figure her to be a Harvard and Yale educated attorney, who came from a family of attorneys down in Virginia.  That is until your crossed her path.  She made junior partner at a big time criminal defense law firm in New York and was every ready to kick a dimwitted district attorney's ass in court.  Aliyah and I had the hots for each other, but we figured that if we got into a relationship it would destroy the business end of both of our jobs.  So we played it as cool as we could.


"Okay everyone.  Looks like the Walters' case has come to a close.  Everyone, including my uncle X last night, did a great job.  We're going to be receiving a nice paycheck from Mrs. Walters, so everyone is going to get a decent bump in their paycheck.  I'm about to go into the city, hand Mrs. Walters what she wants and pick up her check.  But this was really a great job on short notice.  Thanks."

Chris walked up, "Hey boss, I think I should get a bonus for getting that video of Walters throwing a hump into that stewardess on his way from the airport last week?  It wasn't easy getting those nails in his regular driver's car and then showing up with my limo like a Knight in shining armor all at the same time."

"Yeah, Chris, you're right, except your bonus is going to be offset by the cost of me renting that limo for ten hours instead of the four?"

"Uh, yeah, well...I did need to make an impression on my girl after work..."

"Denied." I deadpanned.  "Equal splits for everyone."

Everyone had a good chuckle.  I also announced that everyone could take the rest of the day off. It had been an intense 10 days covering Walters. We could look into some fresh assignments first thing in the morning as there were some cases pending that had additional big paydays.  Then I mentioned about stopping off on the Lower East Side later and speaking with an old friend who was a priest there.  Darren offered to come in with me just in case something might jump off, but I assured him that it wasn't necessary.  But just before I left I did mention that I had a bad feeling about what Father Manuel was getting me involved with.

I got into my sparkling blue, Corvette convertible and took off to Manhattan. 

As I was driving into the city, I told Marti that I wanted to go "On Radar", which meant for her to keep track of me via the three GPS devices that I had on my body. That was my cell phone, my watch and my belt buckle. All of my team members were outfitted with the same device combination. Our watches were two fold. Not only did they help track us, but they also acted as emergency microphones that could record and broadcast conversations from up to a 20 foot radius and wirelessly download to our servers.

Only Marti, Grace, Darren or myself all had the ability to remotely control these devices as long as they were turned on. When we didn't want to be traced, all we had to say was "Off Radar" and no GPS tracking would be done unless we initiated an SOS signal with our phone, watch or belt buckle at the slide of a switch. There were of course limitations on exact signal strength and work arounds for these limitation. But, the most important reason to have these devices was to be able to either locate and record iTeam members in case they were abducted or their would be killers attempted a sudden attack.

Since Mrs Walters wanted to hand me a check instead of paying electronically, I decided to go On Radar.  Darren insisted upon heading into the Lower Eastside first and taking the temperature of what was going on in the streets with the police and the media before I got down there.  Several hours later, his intuition would prove to be correct.

Little did I know that what seemed like a trip into two completely different worlds in New York City would eventually collide into one.

What Is The Private iTeam?

The Private iTeam is an idea that was started back in 2001.  The story morphed in 2006 after I took a computer class.  The story morphed again in 2008 and 2010.  A few people have been able to read some of the past written stories, but I have not been able to truly share it with the world.  Well, in a few hours (7pm Eastern time), I will be able to do just that.  I will be able to share a story character that I've privately championed for some time now.

There will be pop up links in the story.  Don't let them throw you off.  After you click them you can just simply go back to your original tab to continue to read the story.  The pop ups are designed to enhance reading the story.  Most blogs and online articles have links for the very same reason.

So what is The Private iTeam?

A dream whose time has come.

Are You "Enough"?

Are you enough?


Seems like no matter who we are, or where we are, what age we are...we always fall back to this ultimate question.  At the end of the question, we just seem to add another adjective to make it sound more important...yet by doing just that we ruin the most important part of the REAL question.

Are you black enough?

Are you white enough?

Are you American enough?

Are you Russian enough?

Are you tall enough?

Are you smart enough?

Are you political enough?

Are you thin enough?

Are you fast enough?

Are you religious enough?

Are you rich enough?

Are you liberal enough?

Are you conservative enough?


Yes, you see...it can go on, and on and on.  When you break it down like this, it really looks more like language designed to limit,  divide, control, insult and damage who you are inside.  When you use these words to damage one person, inevitably you damage us all.

Let's try the same words in a more positive tone for humanity and see if it changes the impact.

Are you kind enough?

Did you eat enough?

Are you forgiving enough?

Are you respectful enough?

Are you compassionate to others enough?

Are you helpful to your family, town, your city, your nation enough?

Are you positively instrumental and fair in the progression and treatment of all mankind...regardless of race, color, religious views and sexual orientation....enough?


Which "enough" are you?  Which "enough" do you want our children's future world to be?

Do you do enough to make sure that it happens?

Are you enough?

I am not enough, but I live everyday trying to do more than just enough.

There's Nothing Better Than Sharing A Good Story

As I sit here and realize that I've spent the better part of the last four days forming and shaping the next story that I'm about to post on here over the next couple of weeks, I've come to the peaceful understanding that there is nothing better than sharing a good story with a friend or strangers.  Whether that story is non fiction, fiction or both - nothing beats a group of people sharing the experience of a good story. 

I have been working diligently at different angles to write my story.  The background to this "Private iTeam" characters started around 2001, then it went cold until 2003.  After putting it on paper, it went dead again as my life had gotten busier with my kids.  Then in 2008 and 2009 as my family dynamics changed, I re-visioned the story...using some ideas I had gained from attending a computer class in 2006.

I plan to build a web domain so that I can tell short stories in addition to this blog.  The blog is more like the kitchen and the actual website would be where the "meal" of my writings are published.

And...I haven't really mentioned this but to only a couple of people.  I'm definitely working on a book.  Not "going" to work on...but presently working on a book.  I plan to take that one directly to Amazon publishing...so stick around folks for those announcements. 

Oh and by the way...I've been so busy writing...that...I'm probably going to have to send smoke signals to the rest of my family as well as wear a name tag.  I think they might have forgotten who I am. 

I will be taking a break for a few weeks once I have a chance to lay all of this stuff out.  You folks out there have been terrific.  I'm just a couple hundred more pageviews from 8,000.  Never in my wildest dreams...

That's why I'm working so hard.  I love entertaining my old friends...new friends...and even strangers...

"Cop Killer" is going to be my hottest story ever so far on this blog...I can tell you that.  I'm putting it out there on Monday, so stay tuned!

Folks can always reach out to me and my writings through the Kik application.

The user name is: NYEastsideE

Or email me at: NYEastside.info@gmail.com

In Just One Week...The Private iTeam ®

In just one week...

A city on the verge of a meltdown between it's citizens and the police, as the police search for the killer of one of their own.

But the citizens will not turn in an innocent man.

There will be no peace unless there is justice for either side.

Only New York City's hottest private investigating team can break the standoff before more lives are lost.

This is the story everyone will be talking about.  This is the story where love, deception, money and power all collide on the streets of New York City.

Introducing the Private iTeam in "Cop Killer"

 

 

 

 

We're Gonna Run This Town - So Let's KIK it!

I'm introducing some exciting additions to this blog.  First, I will be adding some links to this blog such as this!   These pop up links will help add some sights or sounds to what you are reading to help you get into the mind and mood of what it's like to be a modern day New Yorker. I want your blog reading experience here to be a complete one.  Eyes, ears and hearts involved.  Then share your experience with a friend!

 

 

 

 

I promised more to come and its coming!  There will be additional short stories added to ESpeakeasy.blogspot.com as some of my current story characters will be referring to ESpeakeasy as a place to go to dance or socialize.  There will be clues left and prizes given out for those who care to follow.  Remember...I'm a gadget type person.  So for those who love gadgets...keep on following.

 

 

I'm still toiling through my own website pages.  Capturing the flavor of New York City comes from so many different perspectives.  This is quite a feat when you're more art orientated rather than thinking in a computer programmers mindset on how to merge the two mediums.  I've been blessed to run into some art oriented people the last couple of months.  Their help has been immeasurable.  Now onto the computer people!

 

 

For those folks who would like to engage in a more direct chat back and forth, I've now created a means of doing that.  If you have Kik, we can chat.  My Kik address is NYEastsideE.  It's open 24hrs, as I am active throughout any given day or night.  I would love to open the floor for discussion with other writers, New Yorkers or even computer oriented people.  People like to hear about or read the stories of others.  Feel free to share or even write a short and entertaining story of your own "New York City" experience right here.  Message me and let's chat.  If I am delayed for some reason, believe me I will get back to you.  So let's Kik it!

 

 

 

For some of us...this is New York!

 

 

 

 

And for some of us.... this is also New York!

 

No matter which way you go...all of the above is New York Eastside Entertainment!  Keep coming back for just that!  Entertainment!  My "world" wide introduction to the Private iTeam is just around the corner!

What Does It Take To Get To The Top?

What does it take to get to the top of your personal life, career, family and faith?

Well to get to the top of the Empire State building, all it takes is an elevator and patience for the long lines.  But in real life..to get to the top of your life...it's going to take everything that you have.  What you put in is what will come back to you.  Work as hard and as diligently to get there.  Harm no one on your way there.  Be kind and humble to all when you get there.  Because if life should throw you a curve, and you have to come back down a few stories or all the way to the bottom - you're going to want your descent as pleasant as your ascent.

Good luck and God Speed.

Springtime In New York City and Canal Street

 Spring is in the air!  Old Man Winter is fighting his way trying to hold on.  We had snow last week, but it was gone a day later under a moderately warm sun.  Then some warmer rain followed and its all gone now.  Back in my sometimes mispent youthful days, this was the time when we would head down to Canal Street during school lunch hours or over the weekends to try to strike deals with the venders in the area.  Back in the late 1970's and '80's, you used to be able to negociate a good deal.  You actually still can, but everything is done a little differly with the stores.  Back in the day you could nogeciate right there on the sidewalk from one vendor to the next.  There weren't as many "storefronts" as there was sidewalk dealers.  Now...you have to do things kind of indoors.

However, we used to pick up the hottest and trendiest spring/summer t shirts, jeans, sneakers and jewlery back in those days.  I'm sure they still do it now...but...it just isn't the same.  Fun times my Canal Street friends!  Go get your shop on!

Chocolate Covered Ants - Food Glorious Food!

There's no doubt that in New York you can order just about every kind of food possible.  However, whether it was in New York or a place outside of NY, over the years I have experimented with some rather off the beaten path type foods. 

To list them very quickly, I have had in my life - escargot (snail) frog legs, alligator tail, eel, deer meat, shark and crawfish.  Now some of these foods aren't considered strange or abnormal depending on where you live, but to me they are.  I have never had chocolate covered ants, even though I had an opportunity to try them years ago.

I had a conversation with a couple of coworkers who are mostly native Long Islanders, and surprising to me, they haven't really experimented much beyond beef, poultry, fish or pork.  One of them stated "Lobster" as her most strange and exotic food.  Say what??  Yep, you heard it right...lobster.  Heck, even Panera has lobster sandwiches.  How exotic can they be?  Perhaps if you had a Loch Ness Monster lobster like above maybe...

And for the record it appears that women in my office, outside a plate of Sushi, are the least experimental with strange foods.  Men...well...we do live up to our sometimes formidable appetites.  Given the right circumstances, we can and will eat just about anything.

I'm curious as to what other unusual foods, you folks who read my blog may have eaten for experimentation or simply for sustenance.  By the way, those of you who have been camping in the woods for at least two straight nights, you might as well include insects in your list of exotic consumption.  It is almost impossible to not have had at least one little bugger fall into your stew.  Those campfire flames are like magnets!

The comments section is open.  Hope to hear from you all.

"It Takes All Kinds - The Johnathan X Story"

It Takes All Kinds - The Johnathan X Story
by John S LES


Man oh man, times do change.  I have to follow up my Geraldine story with a story about a kid I grew up with that I shall call Johnathan X.  But first I must acknowledge my friends who have read this blog and went to the same middle school as I did.  After posting the Geraldine Story a couple of friends of mine and I laughed about it on Facebook as we remembered the school, the teachers, the bus ride to get to school and other friends who went to the middle school with us.  Looking back it seems a little difficult to believe it all happened, but being able to recall a time in our lives over 30 years ago was very, very cathartic   Thanks Phil!!

Once again, I grew up on the Lower Eastside of big New York City.  I remember one of the older kids in the elementary school, a kid named Johnathan X, always had an anger management issue.  I was friendly with his younger siblings, a brother and two sisters.  We all played during lunch period in school and after school on the neighborhood playground.  All of us...except for Johnathan X.  Johnathan was always an angry and explosive personality type kid who didn't know how to socialize too much out of a restricted "Hello" and "Goodbye" pattern.

The teachers in school worked with Johnathan X.  He was an intelligent kid, he always seemed to get great grades and was kept in the advanced learning classes throughout our elementary school.  In addition, although I played with his younger brother and sisters, I could never recall seeing his parents at events at school for families and teachers.  I also remember his parents being very strict about curfew hours.  You always saw the kid running home, even if we were in the middle of a playground game, if it had reached a certain time for them to be home.  Stickball game, bottom of the 9th, tie game?  Oops, its 5:32 and Johnathan's parents wanted his brother and sisters home by 5:30 - peww they were gone!

Johnathan was a loner.  He didn't really walk to school with anyone.  Some kids made fun of him, with that stern look he had on his face all the time.  The older bullies in the neighborhood used to make fun of him, but they had to stop because it would always turn out to a fight to the death if they got into it with him.  He would plot revengeful sneak attacks against them all week long, that it just wasn't worth it to the bullies.  So between that and parents and neighborhood elders chastising these bullies, Johnathan pretty much was left alone after a while.  I think he eventually did attend some special school for additional socializing skills, but I'm not 100 percent certain.  All I do know is that when you stopped over to see him with his siblings at the playground, he was pretty much a mute standing or sitting in the background.  He never played.  He wouldn't even look at you.

I once told his brother that he better buy Johnathan a bell or a whistle in case there was a fire in their house, because this "mute" thing wasn't working as we were entering our early teens and Johnathan was in his mid-teens.  Several years pass and as we were now into our mid-teens his brother started getting involved with some very negative elements, in this case, drug dealers.  I had to stop hanging out with his brother.  Especially after one summer night when their father came running out of their building, ran to the vicinity of the neighborhood playground and basketball courts with a handgun and fired a gunshot at his son.  The bullet struck a pole about 60 feet away from me.  That one gunshot turned the whole neighborhood into Olympic hurdlers and sprinters as we ran out of the way.  The police came.  It was a whole mess.  Afterwards people in the neighborhood were laughing about how fast everyone started running to safety when the gunshot sounded, or lost lost a shoe running.  "Hey grandma, I didn't know that you could run that fast in those bloomers.  You actually beat me into the building."

That was the last full summer I had in New York City.  For the remainder of my time living there, I was always in and out of the city in the summer.  I got a scholarship to go away to a private school and subsequently attended a private college.  I worked most of the summers in between my school years and socialized with people outside of my old neighborhood.

Now today in America, I wonder how differently Johnathan would have been treated?  Probably a lot different.  I'm sure the Board of Education would probably send a special teacher to sit with Johnathan and give him special teaching and try to get him to learn to socialize more with other kids.  I'm also sure that he would have been marked as another "Trench Coat Mafia" type, who might come in school one day angry at one of the bullies and then attack the whole school.  Who knows?  But, the way it was handled back then was to pretty much just offer Johnathan the opportunity to learn and then leave him alone.

But here is the grand finale to this story that you've been waiting for.  Several years after college, I found myself working in New York City, in midtown, but living in New Jersey.  I commuted by bus and then PATH trains.  Now for those of you who ride New York City bus transit system, you all know we have a bus called the "express" bus?  I'm sure all big city transit systems have the same "express".  That's the bus that skips stops and drives a little faster than normal because it is skipping stops.  Normally I would take that express downtown and then catch a crosstown bus to catch the PATH train back to New Jersey.  Yes it was a crazy commute, but I enjoyed it for a while.

In addition, those of you who rode the NYC buses in the '70's, '80's and early '90's know that people would crowd the front part of the bus and refuse to move to the rear of the bus.  They liked to crowd the front area of the bus so that they can exit the automatic front door, plus it was roomier than the cramped rear door exit (today's NYC buses are a lot roomier with easier-to-exit rear doors).  In addition, this bunching of people near the front of the bus prevented additional people from boarding the bus and filling it to capacity.  Being an experienced bus rider, I knew that when the bus drivers got angry, they could step on the accelerator a little bit and that would (by sheer laws of physics) "move the crowd back" further into the bus and allow additional people to board the bus at the next stop.  It's an old trick that was used only when necessary by cynical bus operators.

So after a long day at my job, it's a cold day, rush hour and I already let two legitimately over crowded buses go by me.  But now I was getting pressed to board any downtown bus so that I wouldn't miss the crosstown connection and catch my PATH train into New Jersey.  I see the next express bus pull in, and I can see that although there's plenty of room in the back, the front is packed with people.  So now I'm pressed for time, I board the bus, pull my token out and look the bus driver dead in the eye to say my usual "Hello".  Much to my SHOCK and AWE the driver of this bus is non other than JOHNATHAN X!!!  He looked me dead in the eyes, but didn't quite acknowledge that he recognized my face.  But I clearly recognized the scowl on his face as he growled at the passengers "Move to the back!  Move to the back!"

With that I knew what was coming next.  So rather than waste anytime for a 2 second reunion conversation, I immediately lifted up my briefcase and used it as a battering ram to make my way to the back, where there was actually two empty seats.  I then held onto the seat pole for dear life.  Ironically, I received some angry, disgruntled and indignant faces from my fellow, standing passengers for the Mel Gibson, action movie like dive I made to get into that seat.  "All of that for a seat?" was their faces, but NOT FOR LONG.

As expected, out of Johnathan's anger and frustration that the crowd in the front was not following his directive to move to the back, he floored the accelerator causing at least 15 of the people to literally go flying backwards as they lost their grip on the standing poles.  They were stumbling, air swimming and falling backwards...towards the rear.  He hard swerved right and left to keep them moving and then came to a quick halt when he reached the next express stop.  A couple of women on the bus started complaining about his rough driving. All he did was yell in response, "Move to the back!" and then floored the bus to the next stop.  My arms were double wrapped around the pole next to my seat.  I actually managed to reach out and catch another man who was trying to run to the rear like I did and grab the last open seat.  It was truly the bus ride from hell.  People were getting off yelling, some were claiming that they were going to report him as soon as they got off.

Thankfully, I only had about 6 or 7 total stops on this express bus.  Johnathan got me to my crosstown stop  to catch the PATH train in record time.  I was so happy to get off that bad roller coaster ride.  Never before or since had I actually been as afraid that I was going to either die or end up in a hospital behind a NYC bus ride as I was that day.  But Johnathan X did manage to do just that this particular evening.

I never did see him on that route again.  I always wondered if those people did complain and perhaps he was indeed suspended or lost his job.  Even more importantly, I kept asking myself is...how did he pass a psychological test to deal with a job like driving a bus in NYC?  How did he get past showing some hostility to people who annoyed him as well as the general public?  In any event, I moved on from New Jersey, and moved into Queens, before finally landing on Long Island.  But I never, ever will forget the wild and crazy bus ride I had at the hands of Johnathan X.  I guess it truly does take all kinds in this life.