Colleen Kane

Busy as a Brooklyn Bound B

Someone has been working by night in my neighborhood putting up words on what was until recently just an unsightly parking deck.

Today is an anniversary of an infamous day, but I've reached saturation point on that subject (and yet still keep watching the documentaries, and then having to turn the channel away to something cleansing and dopey like It's a Mad, Mad Mad Mad World).

I was reminded today that (almost) everyone alive is fortunate to be here. And when I walk to the subway in the morning, I pass at the building seen in the above right foreground, the NYC Job Center, a line of grim faces and momentarily feel lucky to be going to a job, however much I may not have wanted to deal until then. But a different reason to stop and assess appeared in my morning walk to the subway recently.

The First Cut is the Creepest: Revisiting the Childhood Trauma of the Original Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark

No single film has affected my life more than a humble made-for-TV movie from 1973 called Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, which served as the scary movie deflowering of many impressionable young minds of Generation X. It seemed to run at least one Saturday afternoon every month of the 1980s on WPIX channel 11. Whenever it did, my older brother and I sat transfixed on the basement’s loop pile carpet (in three tones of brown), filled with dread.

Spoiler alert--but if you didn’t watch this movie as a child, it’s already spoiled.

 

Abandoned Borscht Belt: Grossinger's Resort and a Schmear of Kutsher's

I've been back in Brooklyn for a year now. While still living in Baton Rouge, I began researching Kutcher's resort. It's the last operational resort in the Catskills' Borscht Belt, and I was pitching a story about it (no one bit, and I'm still very interested in writing this and similar). From there, I found a wealth of information and photos online covering numerous abandoned resorts in the region. I envied the people who could explore those places and dreamed of doing it myself. Well my dear friends and readers, that dream came true last weekend.

Leah, her German Shorthaired Pointer, Otto, and I set off Friday night to Parksville, NY, settling at a campground occupied by 85% seasonal campers from Long Island who tool around the property on golf carts (I caught a ride with one such fellow named Louie, who decorated the front of his cart in gold and black mailbox letters reading B DA BING BADA BOOM). For the first time, camping wasn't just about sitting around the fire BS-ing and telling funny stories. It was like the night before Christmas, with thoughts on tomorrow's exploration of ruins.

The first stop Saturday was the nearby old time downtown of Liberty where we threw down some Mexcellent food (friend me on Yelp!), and then we were off on the mission.

Scenes From a Mall

The Fulton Mall has been my neighbor for 10 years (minus My Time Away). I wrote about it in my latest Brooklyn Based column here, please give it a read.

As I mention in the column, this pedestrian mall can be not so aesthetically pleasing, but I felt challenged to hunt for some beauty. Now that its current state is endangered, I finally motivated to take some photos in the morning light, before shops opened.

This historic building (formerly Conway) will be converted to lofts. To the left is where H&M is being built.

Incognito with the Guidos + Bonus Material

Well, my nonexisitent dream of getting into Penthouse magazine before my 37th birthday came true. My in-depth investagative report Incognito with the Guidos came out in the February issue, released on the day before my birthday, including not very good photos I took of my attempted transformation into guidette. I thought I'd share some more photos from that mission here.

If you haven't read the story yet, please do. If you have, click through for the photos.

Back in Time

Let's go back in time 23 years to 1987, when I was a 7th grade student at St. Vincent De Paul School in Stirling, New Jersey. The assignment was to read a science fiction novel and write a book report about it, using a structure of a Q & A, summary, and opinion sections. 

I fudged the entire thing and still got an A.

This is my book report about the movie Back to the Future. 

Frog Festival

You may have seen bumper stickers saying, "Keep Austin Weird." There aren't any such mottoes about Louisiana, and that's because weirdness in Louisiana is about as endangered as nutria. On Saturday, Kara and I went to experience some genuine Louisiana weirdness at the Frog Festival in the self-proclaimed Frog Capital of the World, Rayne.

We laughed, we made rude comments amongst ourselves about genetics, we wondered if perhaps we had licked some hallucinogenic frogs.

New Orleans puts the fun in funerals

On February 12, John Brunious, the trumpeter and band leader for the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, passed away.

As a newcomer to the region, I was introduced to the legendary New Orleans band via this incredible video by Clint Maedgen (via Cajun Boy, as I'm sure he'll point out if I don't link him) which converted me to instant fan of Clint and the band.

I think you'd have to be a robot for that to not touch you in some way.

So I'm bummed that I never got to see Mr. Brunious lead the band. But I did get to see some of the royal sendoff New Orleans gave him at his jazz funeral on Saturday.

Mardi Gras: There will be blog

I write this blearily while the rest of the brood dozes. You see, it is Mardi Gras break down here in Loosiana. School's out til Thursday.

Sooo...I went to Spanish Town Mardi Gras on Saturday.

Big Johnson style

It's another one of those tightening-the-belt Christmases for the bf and I, and so most people on our lists will be getting at least one homemade present. It's more meaningful this way--I love getting gifts that the giver made personally--but there's always the concern that you're putting all this time and effort into making something the reciever will find repulsive, especially if you're making it for someone who doesn't have similar tastes to yours. Which brings us to a little craft book I have called Have a Natural Christmas '77.

I was certain this book would be a treasure trove of fugly crafts made from pine cones, sticks, beans, feathers, and seeds. Once I investigated futher, it wasn't all that bad--the book was put out by Rodale, publishers of books and magazine titles such as Prevention, Men's Health, Women's Health, and proponents of organic farming since the early 40s (another of their titles you might have heard of is An Inconvenient Truth). It actually seemed touching that this well-intentioned publishing company put out a little book of natural Chistmas crafts.

Although the more I contemplate the cover project here, a gingerbread house with cashews as the snow on the roof and pumpkin seeds as, uh, pumpkin seeds on the chimney, the less I feel like eating, so thank you, Rodale, for that 30-year-old diet tip at holiday gorge time.

But as you're about to see, crafting got worse than natural ideas in the time of disco fever.