Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride

from August 18, 2007

The Hong Kong Master Tailor

Area- Bay Ridge Parkway and 20^th Avenue.

Every neighborhood has a store or block of stores where nothing seems to succeed. Over the years on this short stretch of Bay Ridge Parkway there has been a florist, a card shop, a fruit store, at least two bagel stores, a travel agency, a comic book store, an investment agency, a medical supply store, a foreign dry cleaner, and many others too short-lived to recall. There is now a new bagel store on the corner that may buck the trend. It seems to be making a lot of money and the food is good. A few doors down is a store that will not last. It is the shop of The Hong Kong Master Tailor.

It opened a few months ago with banners and flags and it looked as if The Master Tailor was waiting for a party to spontaneously erupt in his honor. The awning proclaims it the home of a “master tailor” who will hand sew any men’s or women’s suit with perfection. In his window are some examples of his art, which if worn will make you look like the spiffiest man of 1958. (The sample is a little old-fashioned.) Actually, the most recent suit on display looks like Thurston Howell III’s yacht wear. On opening day The Master Tailor made his debut, along with many members of his family all drinking Japanese beer, taking pictures, waving flags, playing music, and generally having what appeared to be the world’s smallest, private parade.

The Master Tailor is an old man, anywhere from 60 to 120 years old. He is a small thin man, always dressed in what looks like an expensive suit, sans jacket, of the old-fashioned variety. Overall he is classy, just out of his time. He looks very capable of sewing a suit or altering your pants, as long as A- you are not in a hurry and B- you don’t mind if the suit looks a little dated. One wonders how long The Master Tailor has been in The United States.

What makes The Hong Kong Master Tailor a local character is the fact that he has no business. A peek into his shop will show empty shelves where he should have customers clothes and only a very few garments hanging inside to be picked up. Because he has so much time on his hands, The Master Tailor can be found outside of his store most afternoons.

He will stand in his doorway smoking a cigarette and peering more or less straight ahead. He finishes the cigarette and flicks it into the street, then continues to stand in the doorway. There is a bus stop in front of the shop, and The Master Tailor waves at every bus. It is unclear if he is waving at the driver, the passengers, or the actual bus. Most of the time the driver or some regular riders wave back. Otherwise he is just standing there, occasionally drinking a foreign beer.

Last week was a rare sight. The Master Tailor was seen running out of his shop with a small bundle of papers in his hand. He ran in a very erect and dignified way, as befitting his status as “Master” Tailor. He ran down the block, waving to a couple of people as he went by, ran across the street, and finally, nearly a full block away, caught up to the mailman, whom he waved to, and gave him some mail. While it is not certain, there may not have been anyone minding the store while he was away. There is certainly no danger of losing any business.

I have often considered going to him with some minor matter. “Darn the holes in my socks, Master Tailor!” There is not a man or woman who would not like to proclaim that “This shirt was pressed by The Hong Kong Master Tailor. Just look at that crease!”

As befits any myth or legend, there is an air of mystery about the man. This certainly does not seem the place to find a Master Tailor. He is rather old, and must have had an interesting life. What the heck is he doing here, and why does it look like he has not sewn a suit since the McCarthy Hearings? Why does he wave? Unlike any of the other local characters, he has not been around for ages. He is a new entry in the pantheon of local lore, with the interest in him, though not his business, sure to grow.

The Para-, Quadra-, Um, Disabled Guy In The Wheelchair at Shoprite

Area- McDonald Ave. Shoprite.

Often found sitting in the lobby of the McDonald Ave. Shoprite is a disabled man selling candy. His wheelchair has a tray upon which is a selection of various candies that he is selling. The man is very physically disabled and obviously needs the money. He is well–known by the Shoprite employees and a good number of them, as well as the customers, buy things from him.

I have never bought a single stick of gum from him.

I do feel sorry for him and I’m sure that he is not running a scam, the man is clearly legitimate. However, I don’t like the guy. He comes across as surly and unfriendly. He seems unlikable. By not buying anything from him, I feel that I am being very fair to him. After all, if he were not disabled I wouldn’t buy anything from him, so it would be hypocritical of me to buy now. Plus, by ignoring his disability I am treating him as I would any other cranky man, and isn’t that what all disabled people want, equality? So in the interest of fairness and equality, not to mention compassion, this guy won’t get a cent from me.

The Disabled Veterans

Area- The McDonald Ave. Shoprite

Unlike the disabled guy, these are two or three veterans who set up a table (across from the other guy) a few times a year and sell flags and buttons, with the profits going to help disabled veterans. They are outgoing and friendly. Even if you don’t buy a thing from them, they smile and wish you a good day.

I always donate a couple of bucks. I have long ago stopped taking the flags they offered me, I don’t even need the four I already have.

from August 13, 2007

Cal Begun, The Bensonhurst Poet

Area- Bensonhurst

Cal Begun, the self-proclaimed “Bensonhurst Poet,” has not been spotted by this observer, though he is easy to track. Like an animal, his spoor is found throughout the territory he has marked. His poetry is very much of the third-grade variety, and adorns the walls of grocery stores and beauty shops all around the neighborhood. Here is an example of his “poetry,” which was actually found on the official website of the Brooklyn Borough President:

 THE BENSONHURST POET

Cal Begun

WHY I LOVE BROOKLYN

B ecause all my life it’s been home to me

R eally beautiful are many of the neighborhoods that I see

O nly here you’ll find Mill Basin and Prospect Park

O Coney Island, where you’ll have fun from morn till dark

K eep in mind – the people here are all friend to know

L ook to travel easily wherever you want to go

Y ou can do no wrong if you decide to settle over here

N othing but happiness you’ll find with nothing to fear

A further example of his awful amateur acrostic art, “Postmen,” can be found hanging in the pick-up window of the Parkville Station Post Office.

How does he do it? “Oh, I just think real hard about the person or situation I’m writing about,” he says, “and try to make people happy.” Sometimes the poems take several hours or several weeks. Cal will devise a few lines one day, then a few more another day. That is, if he’s writing the poem from scratch. These days, Cal has so many poems he usually copies lines and says the same thing, but just spells it out differently.

For more information, including an interview, his actual home address, and details on how ask Cal for a personalized poem, go to this address, which is real and not a joke : http://www.ratedrookie.com/06/eat_this.HTML

The bobbing “guitar player” outside Chock Full o’ Nuts

Area- Corner of 86^th Street and Bay Parkway.

Years ago, that corner was dominated by both a Chock Full o’ Nuts Coffee shop and a strange man who played music for money on the street. Perhaps that is a misstatement. The man was a bit on the tall side, typically wearing a dirty shirt, unbuttoned at least half way, and filthy pants. He was in his late forties at least, perhaps older. He stood in front of a beat up box and “played” a guitar- without strings!- while he moaned in what sounded like a nonsense language with a foreign accent. He bobbed up and down to the non-existent music, and would nod, mid-bob, if anyone dropped money into the box. It was always assumed that the man had a mental disability, and I’m sure that some of the money dropped in the box came out of pity for his condition. However, I can state from first-hand experience that he was not disabled. I heard him carrying on a perfectly normal conversation with a friend in the bagel store across the street. It is all an act.

Mike The Cop

Area- Bensonhurst

Mike the Cop is a real former policeman who lives in my building. He is a very large man who has taken it on himself to ensure that the building and the area around it is safe. He chases unruly kids away late at night. He will go out of his way to help the elderly in my building. He will be seen late at night in front of the building. Mike knows everything that goes on in the area.