I did what you said, that thing with the lemons, and I almost got arrested. Why did you say that?
Anyway, if I was to run away and hide, where no one could eva find me, to what corner of the globe should I go? I know you’re a lad of the world and such, and a celebrated lonesome adventurer…that’s why I’m asking you, so where should I go? To which continent or direction should I cast my thoughts and glances, for I truly do not want to be found.
-Tana Janowitz from the Bronx
Thanks for taking the time to write to me. It depends what you’re running from. Remember that you can’t run away from yourself and that cops aren’t that smart. You only need an associates degree to be one. Also, I think a lot of people fantasize about the big run away, dreaming of exotic locales like southern Patagonia or the taiga wastes of the barren lands, but the truth is that one could live out the rest of their life is relative obscurity toiling away somewhere in the hinterlands of Queens or the Bronx. You might only need to move a few blocks away and delete your facebook account. No one will ever find you. You don’t even need to get a haircut. And what makes you think that anyone will even come looking for you?
While we’re on the topic of the great run away, why not explore some of NYC’s lesser locales(?), places where one might go to get away from the bustle and the hustle of the Times Square crowd. Keep in mind that nothing is unknown here in the Big Apple but a body can still beat a path to get off the beaten path…but be sure to dust your tracks and leave no trace lest the Hipsters invade and destroy the last vestiges of old New York.
Hmmm…I wonder an artist’s loft goes for these days in Brownsville Centre?
A favorite place of ours here at Silverboy is Floyd Bennet Field, deep in South Brooklyn and all the way at the end of Flatbush Avenue. It’s not unknown in the least, and it remains empty for the most part, although hipsters are well aware of its existence. Get in while the getting is good and secure your squat in one of the numerous abandoned buildings that dot what remains of NYC’s first municipal airport. So much open space. We’ve been here before: :-0
Right across the street from Floyd Benetton Field is Dead Horse Bay, still a relative unknown and a weird place in it’s own right. Somewhere back in the mists of time this whole area used to be a horse smelting plant where, in the days of horse and buggy whip, all of NYC’s dead horse carcasses would be shipped for rendering into glue or sausages or dog food or somesuch. Fragments of old horse vertebrae push up through the sand here and there and the place retains an eery air. Add to this the fact that the site also used to play host to a landfill albeit decommissioned and capped, until the cap burst. Old garbage is everywhere, jutting out at weird angles and leeching into the bay. It’s not as gross as it sounds though and the garbage, because it is old, retains an interesting element. Vintage. A body feels like a scientist as it pokes around looking through the window of time searching for that perfect and intact 80 year old blue glass bottle to take home as a souvenir or to smash to bits on the rocks. I just wanted to destroy something beatiful…
Stay tuned America!