Brooklyn, Revisited...

Some time ago, I spent a day in Brooklyn, and even though I definitely found many beards and interesting hair styles, it wasn't exactly the type I was looking for. So I went again. And this time I hit the Bull's Eye.

Turns out, Brooklyn's Broadway actually is the border to hipster land. Walk up north from it, and suddenly the environment changes. You see stuff like that on the right, you see people with beards, suspenders, strange hats; the flannel shirts are there; all the cliché boxes are ticked.








Here are a few random pictures from Williamsburg, Brooklyn.



Just abandoned.

Feels like Shoreditch.

Vintage Garb for Man, Woman, and Beast.

That probably rivals my favorite London dentist.

Now that guy is cool!

Letting guests in, one at a time.

Yes!!! Good News!

The DMV accepted my paperwork! The way is clear!


All in all I feel I have done something like this:

Come On, Let The Good Times Roll!

Today I spent the whole afternoon at the shop. We did the insurance paperwork, I was looking at saddlebags, and I was holding my (not yet issued) NUMBER PLATE in my hand. The shop has them and issues them after the DMV's approval, so customers don't have to visit the DMV themselves. This way of doing things probably has prevented many nervous breakdowns, I suppose. And we sent off the DMV stuff. Tomorrow I should know whether it's good.

Afterwards I hopped over to Junior's in Brooklyn. I know some colleagues of mine in Munich who will be quite envious, but guys, you have to face this now. Be tough!

First, you are greeted by this:

Then you order your food (all the stuff in the background is "just some goodies for the table", courtesy of the house):

Then came THIS:

And folks, as the waiter later said, I was melting over it!

After the meal, I spent about three and a half hours strolling home in the warm summer night's air and sitting on benches.

When at night the air is still about 26 °C and there is a gentle breeze, it relaxes me like nothing else. There's nothing like it. It was the first time I felt I'm on holiday.

Just a Cup of Joe

I had a chat the other day with the guys from Joe - The Art of Coffee. The quote I put on the post some days ago, about coffee and room temperature, actually was from their barista trainer, as I found out. He was there on my first visit, just standing behind the guys working the bar, and according to those poor folks giving them a hard time. Joe is special in that his personnel does not consist only of ready-made baristas, but he also takes on people without experience. Then they undergo boot camp. They get three months of training before they serve their first espresso to a customer. And that earlier quote is taken seriously. They adjust their settings every hour, to compensate for changes in the room temperature etc. Some of their newer baristas actually get a bit jittery from tasting the coffee all the time. But it seems to pay off. The stuff is delicious. They also offer afternoon classes for the average Joe wanting to get the basics of coffee-making right. I just might take one of those classes, actually. Supervised by drill sergeant coffee trainer! Except, of course, police comes down and seals off the entire dining area at Grand Central again to investigate whatever, as they did yesterday.


Carefully investigating a chair and an abandoned coffee jug.

Btw: As every other coffee place so far where I really liked the espresso, they also happen to have a La Marzocco. I really should start saving...

Tired Bandit's Progress

Tired bandit.

I just came back from the dealership. They had my stuff checked by a service company that deals with the DMV. It said I need another point, since the DMV probably will turn down one of the items. Maybe that's DMV policy, "always take down one," I don't know. So we started thinking again what I could do. I remembered that a friend of mine knows someone in New York, maybe she could take me on her next utility bill. Then I mentioned again that customer data sheet from my phone company, the one that the DMV had deemed insufficient when I had talked on the phone with them. The service company, however, said that would do it for me! They have experience, they do this every day, so I guess I can put some trust on that. Moreover, from their daily dealings they have a good channel to their preferred DMV clerk. And maybe the original six points work out without the need for that phone sheet even arising. The thing with the DMV is something I had already have found out, too: It apparently depends very much on whom you are dealing with. I got completely contradictory advice by different people there. That agency hopefully knows how their DMV partner ticks. Still, I put the "cautious" into the "optimism".

Regarding the bike, so far I have negotiated a price, made a down payment, and signed the deal. I still need to figure out insurance and get the DMV registration, but there's definitely progress. If all goes well, by the end of next week I'm riding!

For quite some time on my way home I had this permanent, huge grin fixed to my face. Even when not thinking about anything specific. I tried to relax my face, but there always was this itch. I just had to grin like a bandit. Then I grew incredibly tired, like a lot of tension fell off me. I've still got some homework for the weekend, but I'm in a good mood.

Food and Hope

Another day running to offices. Now I've got a preliminary, signed and stamped bank account status from my first account, got an additional account with debit card and signed declaration from another bank, and I've got a pre-paid phone with a signed customer account data sheet (which is not gonna help, but I grabbed it on the way out). If the DMV accepts the paraphernalia from my two bank accounts and my supermarket cash checking card, then together with my passport, visa and I-94, I have my six points of identification together. So I think there is a case for some very cautious optimism. We'll see soon. Meanwhile, a few places where the good stuff is.
 

Katz's Deli - "Send a Salami to your
boy in the Army"

Ninth Street Espresso - Rather industrial
 

Joe - "When the room temperature rises,
the coffee beans can take up more water,
so you have to grind them coarser."

Café Grumpy - "One clichéd picture.
Come on. Just one." - "OK."

Mobile Phone Blues

I had some phone-shop talks about mobile phone contracts today, but, well, as it turns out, that is in no way straightforward, either. You might have guessed by now...

• AT&T: There is a deposit for foreigners, since they have no social security number and no credit history. You enter a two-year contract, and if you break that earlier, you pay an early termination fee. So well, so known and normal (except for that silly deposit maybe; but that gets refunded). However, the early termination fee is only related to the contract. Your device does not get unlocked for use in other networks. Moreover, if you cancel earlier than six months into the contract, you retroactively pay the full price for the device in addition to the ETF (which by itself would be high enough to bridge the gap).
• Sprint: More or less like above. But you don't pay the full device price when breaking the contract. And you can unlock the phone, as long as you stay on their network (which sounds pointless, but there might be use for this, e.g. long travel outside the US, covered by some foreign prepaid plan). But that works only after three months on their service. So buying a phone, unlocking it after three months, then cancelling the contract and paying an ETF after another month might be a way around that. Under normal proceedings, however, they also don't unlock devices, the ETF also covers only the contract. The missing link between ETF and device (unlocking) does not hinder the company to make the amount of ETF you pay contingent on the price of the device, though...
• T-Mobile: Doesn't offer contracts in the above sense any more, there only are contracts without any time frame and termination fees, and they come pre paid and post paid. Except, that is, if you are a foreigner (which implies a rather short stay in the US), then you have to enter a two-year contract for post-paid plans, complete with early termination fees. Yeah, they've figured it out.

Maybe I just go with a pre-paid plan, forget about the billing and get my last point of identification for the DMV by opening yet another bank account...

Rust and Metal



Bruco fire truck

Recently I saw that one on TV. Awesome! That actually would be an alternative for a tour across the country. What a beast!

I find myself watching these strange shows all the time during the evenings these days, people picking loads of old junk out of piles of even more old junk to sell in their antiques store, other guys buying crap on wheels, restoring the cars, and then flipping them again. And what awesome cars they are restoring! All that amazing stuff from the fifties and sixties, sometimes even back to the thirties, from muscle cars to fifties pick-up trucks and sedans, it's all there. My hobby for retirement! And in fact during recent years I've sometimes fantasized about pulling that old and rusty '69 Camaro out of some barn and restore it over the course of probably a few years. Yeah, if I'll ever have that kind of time and money...

I also read stuff on the internet about motors. Now I understand at least in principle how a motor works, two-stroke, four-stroke, crankshaft and camshaft/valvetrain, turbocharger, compression ratio, TURBO BOOST...no wait, that was something different!

I guess I'm in mechanical mode right now. I'll have to talk to my dealer, maybe I can still get that basic repair course done before the trip after all.

Friends...

Speaking of which: This is the "Friends"
house, apparently. Or at least its
outside. The show of course was filmed
in a studio in Hollywood.

My good friend Roland just wrote me that bummer:

"Sounds great so far, what I'm reading!
I could imagine Adam Sandler in the lead role!
After "Rent a flat" now the new hit - "How not to"... ;))
Or "Baseball games...again", aka "wait and eat"...

I take my hat off to you making the best of it and not losing hope!
In a few weeks you'll have forgotten that carrying-on!
On positive adventures from then on!!

'Til then - wait and eat and try out saddles...
Can one mount them on a bicycle?"

I'll just post that here.

And the next time I see him, I'm going to punch him in the face. Nice and calm. Right in the middle of it.

The Last Meters... (updated)

To my surprise the DMV actually accepts mobile phone bills as a point of identification. So I'm going to get one, and then I've got my six points! There's just one last problem. My hostel doesn't accept mail for former guests. But getting the title certificate for the bike sent to one's address takes ages, about three months in the regular case. I'm trying to speed things up, but I guess it will still take some time, and by that I will be somewhere else in the county. I hope I can use my friend's address for that phone bill and bike registration and have her forward-mail the title to another friend's address in California when it finally arrives. I will collect it there when time comes to sell the hog again. Keep your fingers crossed!

Update: All right, she agreed to it. I'm just waiting for some answer from the DMV, and then it will actually start!

Update 2: She withdrew her consent. Unfortunately, the DMV doesn't accept PO boxes as addresses, so my options are dwindling. Actually, right now I see only two ways. One would be to use my other friend's California address. On this one, I am still trying to find out whether such an out-of-state address is allowed. I'm getting some contradicting and muddy information from different offices here. And I'd better clarify that beforehand, otherwise some protracted and even more obscure bureaucratic hassles might ensue. Although New York doesn't have a residency requirement for registering a motor vehicle, you still need an address, and they have requirements for it. It also would be good to have something written on that to add to my registration application. The clerk processing it might not know about it after all, given all the different kinds of information I've got so far. The other option would be one that had been suggested to me earlier by a dealer. UPS offers a service that is in essence a PO box, but you get something that looks just like a normal address. And they forward your mail! Sounds perfect. The thought behind this is apparently for small businesses to look more respectable by faking a real address. Just what I need!!! The reasons I would prefer the other solution, though, and why I'll wait to clarify its viability, is that, first, I'm not sure whether the DMV is aware of and, if so, accepts these boxes (there might be trouble in the waiting), and second, the DMV's processing of registrations is incredibly slow. It takes about three months (!!!) to send the title for a newly registered vehicle. If my little independently owned franchise UPS store moves or goes out of business in the meantime, my title essentially goes to nowhere. And when time comes to sell the bike, I would need to order a replacement title, do it from afar, wouldn't have the support of my dealer, might again face the potential problem of the then relevant out-of-state address not being accepted or tell them where my box has moved, and wait for the title copy to finally arrive. And probably run out of time. The odds of the store disappearing aren't too big (I hope), but still I'll try the other route first.

I am getting a lot of sympathy here when I talk to people about my DMV battles. The receptionist at the YMCA whispered to me that it probably is easier to get a gun than a motor vehicle (that you have to whisper even in New York tells me how toxic the issue is in the US), which she thinks is kind of scary. Well, ask a European how scary that sounds... But wait a minute! Actually that might be a good idea! According to my information material, a pistol permit gives me two points of identification! Maybe I should get a gun first in order to get a motorcycle...

Brooklyn

Brooklyn is a really diverse place. There are great public buildings, incredibly beautiful, quiet, leafy river front / ocean front houses, the view of the Manhattan skyline, nice alleys and old buildings, run down, small, boring, average-looking places, hipper areas, metropolitan places, rather rough-looking community housing projects, a former navy shipyard, some decrepit, abandoned industrial ruins (Hey developers: this is New York, people would rent a bookshelf to sleep in if given the opportunity, and this is predestined loft material, directly across the river from Manhattan, in the immediate vicinity of Brooklyn Bridge; why on earth is this abandoned?), and the largest Orthodox Jewish community I have ever seen. For about an hour I saw literally only two people apart from myself that were not dressed in orthodox garb. From kids up to old folks, everyone was dressed like that. And none of them looked at me. I mean at all. Normally you always give a cursory glance to people, if only to avoid bumping into them on the sidewalk, and given that I was the sole red spot in a sea of black garment, you would expect at least some looks. None. They completely ignored me, staring at the floor in front of them and walking very busily. They gave me the creeps a little bit, I have to admit. Only when I reached the outer parts of the community some people actually looked me in the eyes. I also saw some group of people in front of what seemed to be a synagogue doing some ritual, and later saw a Jewish wedding. All seemed quite foreign to me.

Strangely enough I was actually on the way to what I had read on the internet was a hipster area. Brooklyn apparently is a byword for cool and hipster. I didn't know that. But so far the only hints came at the beginning of my walk, in Brooklyn Heights. A 'stache and flannel guy, yep, a mid-thirties woman looking bored and sucking on a lollipop ring she had on her finger, yep, but that was it so far. The area described in the article was still staunchly Jewish. Then I saw this:

And this:

And my Shoreditch-sharpened instincts kicked in.

Then I saw a guy with flannel shirt, skinny jeans, converse, and a single-speed bicycle. Clean shaven, though. And as a whole rather student-y looking. But the signs of hipsterdom were definitely increasing. I'll have to investigate this further.

Update: There's apparently a north-south dividing line, the Brooklyn Broadway, north of which hipster territory begins, and which as it turns out is also the spot where above pictures were taken. So this is the spot where the next walk will begin.

Congratulations!

 

Patrick and Daniela Wagler

 

Married May 11th, 2013.

 

I'm feeling a bit bad about not having been at the wedding. But was afraid that Customs and Border Protection wouldn't let me in for a third time with the same story, especially given that my port of re-entry would be extremely strict New York. I'm a bit torn about this.

I wish you all the happiness in the world! May you find a completion of yourselves in each other, an enrichment for your lives, and never stop to look at each other with the fascination with which your love began!

Walking Around



That guy plays two trumpets simultaneously!
And it sounds good!

Washington Square at night is an amazing place. I already had been here in the afternoon, but now I like it even better. Lots of young people still there, many small groups of friends having a good time, couples walking about, some girls suddenly dancing crazily, a few guys skating, some others break dancing. It reminds me a bit of Englischer Garten in Munich on a summer evening. There even is that same drummer pounding away somewhere in the distance. I spent about an hour there, just sitting, watching, soaking in the atmosphere. That gentle, warm summer breeze certainly aids the project. I so much love summer nights outside. Right now I am really happy that I am doing this trip. Can't wait for California, when some sea breeze is thrown into the mix.

Then two guys jump on a podium in the middle of a round area, hands together like Buddhist monks, standing opposite each other, not moving at all. They just stand. And stand. More and more people start watching, and you wonder what is going on. Starting a Shaolin mock fight? New Age people, actually being serious about this? Then they start that hands-clapping game that children do for just a bit more than one second, and walk away. That was quite hilarious.

A friend of mine once wrote that by doing his travels on foot, he feels like he owns his way, he is earning his right to be there, belongs there. On a (far) smaller scale, I am having the same experience here in Manhattan, by doing almost all travel on foot, thereby also racking up my 10-15 kilometers a day (and getting some blisters on my feet). But there is something more, which is that by doing things that are out of the scope of a “normal” holiday, thereby experiencing a place in a different way, and by things running not as smoothly as they usually do on a planned vacation in a hotel somewhere, so you have to fight for things, I also feel like I am earning my right to be here. And I don't know which aspect weighs more, the walking or the roughness. Be that as it may, I somehow feel like I belong here, or at least like I am very familiar with the place, something I very much experienced in my year in London (which also was kind of rough in the beginning).

PS: I highly recommend Christoph's blog www.thelongestway.com! When I stumbled over it, I was glued to it for the next five hours, just couldn't stop reading.

Getting The Stuff Together



My new trustworthy financial institution
issuing check cashing cards.

I started my day with a tour of offices this morning, and by early afternoon I had a bank account, a check cashing card, and the letter from the Social Security Administration. The check cashing card was arguably the funniest to get. I just showed up there, asked for a card, and needed to supply some information. I had to show them my passport, granted, but then I was asked for my address, and since I couldn't remember the number and ZIP code of my hostel, the clerk told me to just name any address, it doesn't really matter. So I just wrote down some number and ZIP code, of which I don't even know if it exists. Then she asked me for my phone number, and as my face went blank again, SHE just made up some phone number on the fly, since, you guessed it, it doesn't matter. Yeah. Really. Very interesting. "No sir, a passport, the gold standard of identification, is not sufficient by itself to establish your identity, but if you could supplement it with a supermarket card, we might reconsider." And all this to a guy from Germany, where people get fed up when the bus is one and a half minute late! If at least I were Italian...

Really nice teller at the (proper) bank where earlier I opened my bank account, by the way. We probably spent two thirds of the time chatting, and only one third on bank business. She told me another amazing story. Olga's an immigrant from Latvia, so she knows the nastiness of the bureaucracy towards foreigners, too. In fact, she mainly got citizenship in order to not have to deal with so many hassles anymore. Before that, when she tried to put together her six points of ID, she brought her utility bill along, which she had printed out. The clerk, however, refused to accept it, since they only accept bills that had been mailed. “But how can you tell the difference, they both look the same?”, Olga asked. The clerk told her “It's not folded.” So Olga went back home, folded it, came back the next day, and they accepted it without any fuss! I will certainly make sure to fold that utility bill my friend hopefully will give me!!!

Getting a coffee and some macarons really felt good afterwards.

Even More Hurdles

I found out during a trip to the local NY DMV that even the powers of attorney that Julius granted me are not enough. He needs to be here in person. Doesn't seem like a viable road. So let's see what other way there could be. One of my dealers suggested to me to check the requirements for a NY driver's license or non-driver ID. But as I found out, these more or less need the same six points that registration needs. Plus the driving test, lessons etc. for the driver's license. But the non-driver ID grabbed up along the way might be useful as a sum up of information, maybe I need the document later for something else. You never know. Might make getting insurance easier.

Now even though NY has no residency requirement for registering a vehicle, it needs proof of identity, which amounts to the need for very similar documents, which means again I need six points of proof. Additionally, I also need a letter of ineligibility from the local Social Security Administration. I went to a bank to open an account (which would score me another point on my six point journey), but they, you guessed it, also need stuff for my identification. Like the magic utility bill, which seems to be the key to everything around here. But I wanted the account to establish my identity in the first place. It almost comes down to the point where A is needed for B, but at the same time B is needed for A. But not quite, after all everything can be traced further down to the all mighty utility bill (yes, that is just a damn bill for paying your electricity, gas or phone). I wonder, though, if you have to provide your ID in order to start a contract with your local utility...

Anyway, I found another bank that doesn't require this. Take that bank account, my passport with visa and I-94 attached, a check cashing card I will obtain from some shady loan shark organization, and a utility bill from a friend, on which she will hopefully agree to have my name added, and the bike inches closer. Keep your fingers crossed!



Chat among three colleagues on Times Square.

And One and Two, Get Your Muscles Burning!

Another thing I really like about New York: People just do their stuff, and nobody gives a shit!

This dude just started doing his workout in public, and nobody cared, nobody stared, they just passed by. That probably could only have been topped by somebody yelling “Get the fuck out of the way, asshole!”

Go Yankees!

I need a Time Out. And so I went visiting the Yankees, at Yankee Stadium, The Bronx. A whole different world from Fenway Park. Big, clean, glitzy, telling about shitloads of money poured into it. It is a really impressive stadium, I have to say that. But I somehow prefer Fenway Park with its smaller, more familiar, old-times charms. I've got to say I've come to like baseball games, even though I often don't really understand what's going on. You go there, it is totally relaxed, not as frantic as for example a soccer game, you get yourself some food and a beer, sit in the sun, watch some dudes playing ball, stuff your face with some more hot dogs, and generally have a good time. Yeah, I like that.


More Dealer Business

I guess I will actually buy a Fat Bob, since the Street Bob can't be found with ABS in any of the adjoining states, and my modifications would bring the price up to comparable levels anyway. I hope I don't run in too bad a money problem. Today I went to a dealer on Long Island. We had a really nice and long chat about motorcycle riding, food, family history and all that stuff with a super nice sales person. Just not much about motorcycles, since his colleague handles these cases. I will shoot him a message on Monday.

I feel extremely exhausted these days...

More Hurdles

Today I walked through The Bronx to another dealer to get a little bit more specific on his selling terms. To my surprise he stated that he absolutely is able to sell me a bike, even though I'm a foreigner. Now I'm getting confused. Later on he muttered something about not being able to order directly from Harley, so it seems he is a different kind of dealer, no a direct franchisee. It's a huge dealership, though. But he says he cannot put the chosen handlebars on my bike, which was no problem for the other dealer. What am I supposed to think of this? But he can't get my bike with ABS anyway... Luckily, they have hugely more expensive bikes they can sell me instead. Who woulda thought!?

And of course my reservations about the whole DMV business where firmly echoed by them. Even for residents it's a pain in the ass (verbatim), and maybe even more, since residents can tell themselves “I fulfill all the criteria, and still...?” Then they added some more information about preliminary registrations and that even though you don't need proof of residency in NY, you still need proof of address, you cannot just name a place where they should send the title of ownership. But maybe for this a phone bill might be enough. So I will speed up my plans of getting a cell phone. Unless, of course, there will be more nasty surprises down that way, too.

I'm starting getting doubts...When I had called New York dealers while I was in Boston, I had been told that the registration business would take about 24 hours, even for foreigners. God, how naive had I been to think “Three or four days in New York and I'm riding. Actually too little time to see the city.” Well, it seems I'll have plenty of time for that. I'm anxious to get on the road...

After this nice day full of events, I transferred from the hotel I was staying the last few days to – drums, please... - the YMCA! And suddenly I kind of felt transported back to my early London days. Bloody nose-pickings on the wall, anyone?

Hurdles

Yesterday I got my last applications for PhD studies done! What a relief...

Today I went to the dealership, talked about things, sat on bikes, tried handlebars, put together my dream bike. Everybody can probably guess that the sticker price is just a starting point for further fees like freight and setup, and that changing the handlebars is hugely expensive (this one I believe, though, after finding out all the manual steps that have to be done). However, as a matter of course, there's more problems. In order to protect its dealers from some grey imports, Harley does not allow its dealers to sell to foreigners. Again, proof of residency. So he can't sell me the bike. At which point my friend Julius enters the picture. One way around this would be to officially sell the bike to him and register and insure it in his name (of course it is still me who picks up the tab!). And in fact, as I suggested this, in order to save me some hassles the dealer seriously suggested to me to just fake Julius' signature. Well, I'm not so sure about that one...not least for insurance reasons...

But it was great to walk home in the sun, just having more or less agreed on a bike. Even that part of Queens is suddenly a joy to walk in...

Later some research on the internet revealed that there is something called “Power of Attorney”, which would allow me to sign contracts in Julius' name (you might be forgiven for a little evil smile here), and in California, where he happens to live, it doesn't even have to be notarized! What a relief, considering that he is in Toronto at the moment and I'm in New York, so meeting at a California notary would be a little cumbersome. Lo and behold, a fax could solve my problems! Except for the fact that I plunk down cash big time to buy a motorcycle that then legally belongs to my good friend Julius (again that evil smile...). I think there's a nice balance here. My motorcycle and Julius' financial future are held hostage against another. You might even call it a doctrine of mutually assured destruction. I always liked that the acronym for it is MAD.

The next day I got a message that it is not possible to attach saddlebags on that bike, even though on the Harley internet pages for the bike and also on the corresponding bike builder saddle bags are listed, and the description of the saddlebags feature the bike. Then I phoned around to find out about other dealers' offers to compare prices. Surprisingly, they don't even talk about it on the phone. You have to physically come into their dealerships to be told a price (so doing these things from Germany wouldn't have been feasible anyway, I think). After a bit of talking, I at least got told a rough ballpark number. Those fees seem to roughly match. Let's see...

The dude's got horns!