Hey Hey Hey, No Decay

Uncle Tony, you never cease to impress me with your breaks and beats.

Random Resurrection by Paul Coudamy.

Compared to what I do, this is a bit over the top, too much for my tastes, but I still think it is pretty cool.

My block is changing, and for the worse.

Since I have lived here, starting in 2007, I’ve watched my neighborhood change at an alarming rate.  In 2008, the first thing to go was the Dollar Store, which became a T Mobile outlet, followed by the drug store which became a pigpen.  This month, my favorite, yet unreliable, laundromat closed, along with another string of shops along Nostrand Ave.  Today I watched as the last nail in the coffin went, Wing Lee.

Now, let’s not make any mistakes here, Wing Lee is probably the darkest, dimmest, nastiest looking Chinese restaurant I have ever seen, but it is also the best tasting and cheapest.  Every time I went to Wing Lee it was packed, everyone on the block ate there; in many ways it was our neighborhood equivalent to Nathan’s.  It breaks my heart to see culinary bastion of my block leave, for I will have to travel three to four blocks to receive similar chinese food of questionable quality.

I mean, sure, that laundromat had a record of losing the same pair of jeans, every time I drop them off.  I suppose I shouldn’t mourn the loss of their unreliable services, but that’s not what is bothering me.  What I am bothered by are the implications of change and gentrification.  The dollar store, while pretty crummy, provided my neighborhood with countless and innumerable goods for the home.  I used to go there once a week when I ran out of detergent, soap, or needed to find Polaroid 600 film.  (yes, it was my “stashbox”)  Unfortunately, the T-Mobile is unable to provide this neighborhood with the same diverse merchandise as the Mazon Dollar Store.  I don’t want a RedBeri Outlet to occupy the former Laundromat and I certainly do not wish to have Wing Lee converted into a cute muffin and bagel cafe with bland “grilled sandwiches” for lunch.

Prior to the changes, I considered my neighborhood sustainable; today I consider it to be out of balance.  With the hundreds of vacant storefronts on Rogers (which are still zoned for commercial), why pick apart Nostrand?  The problem I really have is that the changes happening in my neighborhood are not driven by the residents; they are being driven by investors from Manhattan and Queens, or NYC transplants and their midwest money.  Franklin has THREE coffee shops which opened in the past year.  Three, one block apart from another.  In 2008, the only place to get coffee on Franklin was a bodega with a grill.

Community blog Nostrand Park has a brief post about the uncommon indicators of gentrification.  Truthfully, I don’t consider any of the indicators they listed to be uncommon, I consider them to be pretty standard.  What kills me is how my block is being sold out to the highest bidder in an attempt to make it the next Prospect Heights.  I like my neighbors, I like how loud my street is, and I like the fact that I can fix furniture, wrench on bikes, and listen to music at any hour of the day, without worrying about a noise complaint.  The last thing I want are a couple of wannabe ‘Slopers living below me, complaining that my music is disturbing their precious snowflake’s slumber, while they watch Design on a Dime and wait for Fresh Direct.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I’ve watched many neighborhoods change in my life, for better or for worse, and I am afraid that the changes happening in my neighborhood are not in the best interests of the community.