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Part of the Solution: The Park Slope Civic Council

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Community Spirit

I have always been what some people may call a “do-gooder,” a joiner, an organizer and a chronic volunteer. In fact, before opening Lion in the Sun 10 years ago, I worked in the non-profit world as a fundraiser/volunteer/organizer. I had already, at that point, lived in Park Slope for many years, and loved the historic and “connected” community nature of the neighborhood. It is why I chose to move here and why I decided to open my business here.

Once firmly rooted in my new position as a capitalist, I was looking for the right place to contribute to my community. Now connected as both a resident and business owner to the neighborhood I loved, the future of the community became more important than ever.

I came to the Park Slope Civic Council through my involvement with a small group of shop owners struggling to keep the Park Slope Chamber of Commerce alive. Ken Freeman, the President of the Civic Council at the time, out of concern for store closings in the neighborhood approached us to help develop a shop local campaign (some of you may remember the famous “yellow umbrellas campaign”) selflessly funded and supported by Civic Council to support local businesses.

I started attending meetings as a liaison from the “business community” because I felt we might be able to partner more of the business interests with events like the Halloween Parade and the House Tour. But I began to realize just how deep the roots of this organization really went. Perhaps more importantly, I quickly learned that their slogan, “Force of good in your neighborhood,” is really true. The Civic Council is an amazing group of people from diverse backgrounds and interests who, while they may not always agree, all share the same passion for this unique neighborhood we call home.

It seems everyone has heard of the Park Slope Civic Council, but I’m not sure a lot of people know what they really do? Most Slopers know about the neighborhood’s famous Halloween Parade, signature “No Flyer” signs, and the annual Park Slope House Tour, but I was astounded to learn of the many other facets of this vibrant organization. It reaches to levels of the community well beyond the bike lanes and the civic sweep clean up days. For instance, did you know that the Civic Council awards three scholarships to a college bound senior from each of the three secondary schools in the John Jay High School building to help buy books for their freshman year or that there is a committee that provides small grants each year to various community projects in need of funding? What I find most inspiring is that the Civic Council is an organization an individual can actually come to with a mission. For example, a few years back a few brave souls stood up to the changing development on Fourth Avenue, fearing its effects on the vibrant community that has lived in the area for generations, and with the Civic Council’s support and some planning, a new Civic Council Committee, Forth on Fourth Avenue, was born earlier this year after the highly successful 2010 public forum focusing on Fourth Avenue.

Recently, a fellow Trustee of mine, David Alquist, eloquently outlined some Civic Council highlights from over the last decade or so in a letter to prospective members, some of which follow:

Park Slope Armory: the Civic Council was engaged with the Armory redevelopment from the beginning and helped guide it to a successful outcome for the community.
Grand Army Plaza Coalition: we worked closely with GAPco to improve the pedestrian experience at Grand Army Plaza. GAPco grew out of a Civic Council public forum on traffic and transportation issues.
Historic District Extensions: the Civic Council leads the ongoing efforts to expand the Park Slope Historic District. The first extension in nearly 40 years has just been designated with more on the way.
The 9th Street Subway entrance on the east side of 4th Avenue reopened in 2012, after being closed for 40 years, due to Civic Council efforts, thus saving Park Slopers from having to cross busy 4th Avenue in order to access the subway.
The 3rd Street park entrance was permanently pedestrianized due to Civic Council efforts.
One-Way, No Way: the Civic Council successfully thwarted a misguided DOT effort to convert 7th & 6th Avenues to one-way traffic.
The Civic Council engages with the Brooklyn Speaks coalition of neighborhood groups to monitor the Atlantic Yards development.
The Civic Council will engage with the DOT to help locate new bike-share stations throughout the neighborhood for the upcoming bike-share launch this summer.

In addition to special initiatives like those outlined above, the Civic Council’s ongoing activities include:

Running the annual Halloween Parade, House Tour, bi-annual Clean Sweep events, holiday Toys for Tots toy drive, co-sponsoring the Mulchfest and electronic waste recycling events, administering a Neighborhood Grants program that returns the House Tour receipts back into the community, and the scholarship awards mentioned above. They also keep an ongoing engagement with Community Board 6, elected officials, merchant groups, and other neighborhood groups and maintain representatives on the Community Committees of the 78th Police Precinct and the Prospect Park Alliance.

What’s in it for me? As a resident and a business owner, I am already deeply invested in the Park Slope community and truly proud of what I think of as an island amongst the sometimes faceless New York City existence. I love the sense of support, stewardship, and growth that the Civic Council willingly offers as part of its mission. And on a practical level, what is good for the neighborhood is good for my business, my employees, and my clients. If we support our local businesses and they thrive, my business thrives too. If we preserve the historic nature of the neighborhood, which makes it a beautiful place and brings new residents and visitors, my business benefits. If the streets are a little cleaner and the traffic is a little safer for pedestrians, all the businesses and residents benefit. More importantly, I think we all benefit from being part of the solution. But beyond all of that, I found a deeper, more meaningful connection to my home and to my neighbors and my community through the Park Slope Civic Council.

I have always believed in the importance of being involved and being part of the change you want to see. The Civic Council is a thoughtful and effective force for making that change and for preserving and, perhaps more importantly, improving the community we all love so much. As David also points out in his letter, and I would like to as well, “these types of changes did not occur by themselves. They occurred because of the efforts of the Park Slope Civic Council and its dynamic and engaged membership.”

Blooming & Booming

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: New Wave

Although Park Slope is hardly want for new and niche coffee shops, bars, and bistros— the past year has brought extensive development and growth to local small businesses. Do you know what this means? It means that despite the turmoil the economy has faced in recent years, Park Slope is still blooming and booming. Congratulations, y’all! We’ve effectively proved that spending our hard earned ducats in Park Slope has boosted our local economy.

And what better way is there to pat myself on the back for contributing to the “shop local” movement that Slopers have valiantly upheld then to buy myself a latte? As I traipse down 7th Avenue with a “liten” (small) soy latte from Konditori in my hand, I clock the handful of new eateries and small shops that have recently rooted themselves in our neck of the borough. Along 7th and 5th Avenues, it appears as if these fairly new businesses are reappropriating Americana fare and repackaging it with a taste customized to Park Slope— think: high-end hamburgers, downing a beer at a bar that boasts a manicurist on staff, and a classic cup of joe roasted Swedish-style. 2012 has ushered in a new wave of Mom and Pop, and its garnering significant praise from us all.

As such, I’ve decided to outline some of the neighborhood’s new(ish) restaurants, cafes, and other shops worth note in the off chance that you haven’t checked them out yet. And really, you should make it a point to visit as many of the new Park Slope eateries and boutiques as you can to continue to support our local economy.

TARO’S ORIGAMI STUDIO

Origami is an art form that Taro Yaguchi, owner of Taro’s Origami Studio on 7th Avenue says, “requires no cutting or messy pasting. However, it challenges you to have a steady mind and focus.” This is awesome news for me, because finger painting and collaging are oodles of fun, but I’m getting sick of cleaning up after myself post art project. The newly opened Taro’s Origami Studio will teach you how to make nifty origami animals like bears, fish, and rabbits in their “Drop in & Try out Corner”, where a touch screen menu on a PC tablet instructs new origami artists how to fold their materials correctly in order to make tiny paper creatures. The “Drop in & Try out” experience ($10) takes about 30 minutes, and you can decorate your creation with stickers, stamps, and markers upon completion! Taro’s Origami Studio also offers 45 minute classes for children and hour long sessions for adults Tuesday through Friday—which I am obviously signing up for in order to create my own origami zoo.

KONDITORI

“Konditori”, the name of the new coffee shop on 7th Avenue is actually the Swedish word for “Coffee Shop”—genius, right? Of course there are nearly a thousand cafes in the area, but Konditori is special in that all they really want is to combine the “hominess of Swedish Coffee Culture with the edginess of Brooklyn,” They brew their coffees, a proprietary ground blend of three different central American beans, every hour on the hour to extend the pleasurable and hearty aromatics their coffee releases. I am prone to pair a “liten” (small) Swedish roast coffee ($2), fresh from Konditori’s French Press, with one of their specialty “Coco Balls” (and at $2.75 these hand rolled chocolate, coffee, oat, sugar, and coconut delicacy is worth going back for seconds), but I am eager to try their hot cranberry cider ($4) with one of their authentic Swedish pastries—the cardamom bread ($2.75). They’re also stocked with soy milk and vegan cookies, and run a sibling Park Slope location on 5th Avenue. Tusen tack (a thousand thanks), Konditori!

BAREBURGER

I’ll spare you the “Wild Boar, and Elk, and Ostrich burgers… oh my!” pun that came to mind as I perused Bareburger’s menu, but really, wild boar, elk, and ostrich are just three of the types of meats you can choose to stuff a brioche or tapioca rice bun with at 7th Avenue’s fairly new burger joint. Bareburger places importance on local and sustainable farming practices, as is made apparent with their use of organic, all natural, grass-fed and free-range meats. Patrons may choose from an intriguing selection of 6oz. meat patties which includes, but is not limited to: organic bison, lamb, free-range Cajun chicken, veggie (dairy and nut free), and organic turkey, to implement in one of Bareburger’s burger concoctions. For example, “The Roadhouse” burger’s toppings include all-natural pepper jack cheese, hass avocado slices, blackened maple bacon, roasted red peppers, apple-smoked onions and a drizzling of tomatillo sauce; as noted on the menu, Bareburger suggests that you order this burger with bison meat, but you can just as well order “The Roadhouse” with free-range chicken. Who doesn’t love options? Classic salads, like the Cranberry Blue Salad (baby spinach, cranberries, Danish blue cheese, almonds, and an apple cider vinaigrette) can also be topped with any of the previously mentioned burger meats, so all of you carb-concerned folks can breathe easy. Bareburger also makes scrumptious milkshakes and is stocked with a healthy array of craft beers (my advice to the carbohydrate weary: at least treat yourself to a beer)! I’ll admit that I haven’t been too adventurous in terms of my food intake at Bareburger, but I have to wonder how well an ostrich burger would pair with an organic peanut butter chocolate shake.

BEAUTY BAR

Consider yourselves lucky, Park Slope, because you’d never guess that the newly opened Beauty Bar on 5th avenue is owned by the same person as its seedy Bushwick predecessor. Beauty Bar Brooklyn 2.0 affords patrons the luxury of swilling highbrow cocktails while having their nails done in a kitschy glitter-ball of a space! And during happy hour (4p.m.-8p.m.) a manicure and a drink selection from Shane Tison’s (of the Randolph at Broome Street) specialty cocktail menu will run you a reasonable $10. A happy hour indeed—I’m stoked that I can get my nails done somewhere in the Slope after hours and have drink while someone nips at my cuticles, too! Alas, those who keep their nails au naturale can prop themselves up at the massive, double-sided, bar, and order a moderately priced craft beer ($5-$7) or one of Tison’s previously mentioned intriguing cocktails ($10, or $8 during happy hour). Say hello to the Elizabeth Taylor photograph for me on your way in!

THE PAINTED POT

At The Painted Pot on 7th Avenue, you and your mini-Matisse can select any number of pre-made pottery objects to hand-paint and take home! In March, The Painted Pot opened their third location in Park Slope and since become a favorite creative hub for neighborhood kids. You can walk in and choose items like a menorah, a mug, a piece of cake, or a jewelry dish to paint; or mosaic a picture frame to put a picture of your cat in! What’s special about The Painted Pot is that kids (ages 8-12 on Mondays and Thursdays, ages 5-8 on Wednesdays) can take clay handbuilding classes to learn how to make functional items like mugs, bowls, and wind chimes ($136 for four sessions). The next time I’m feeling crafty, I’m heading over to The Painted Pot to hand-paint one of the kitschy little gnome-guys I’ve seen grinning in the window!

BICYCLE HABITAT

Last spring, Park Slope was graced with the opening of a bicycle repair, service, and retail store, Bicycle Habitat. Frames and wheels flood the space as Trek, Specialized and other classic bike brands are displayed next to Brompton and the other “boutique” brands for sale at the store. Meanwhile, on-site specialists provide patrons with repair services that include basic flat tire fixing and bike tuneups, and they are also staffed with high-performance cycle experts to help you choose customized furnishings like aero bar installations and tubeless tires. I don’t know what tubeless tires are, but I want them. Come to think of it, I’m sure the bike-babes at Bicycle Habitat can tell me what they are. They will work with any road, sport, or mountain bike, and provide customers with free estimates regarding the repairs they feel should be made to your bike. Needless to say, the folks at Bicycle Habitat are dedicated to fostering a bicycle-culture in the Park Slope community, and with summer on its way, what better time to fix up your old bike, or purchase a new one, and go for a ride in Prospect Park!

RIVET

If you spend five minutes on 7th Avenue looking at what kind of pants the people who pass you by are wearing, you will quickly realize that jeans are the staple of every Park Sloper’s wardrobe. As such, Rivet, a men and women’s clothing boutique, opened for business on 7th Avenue last summer, and has since paraded an expansive inventory of specialty denim jeans. Normally I’d roll my eyes at the thought of having to shop for a new pair of jeans because, well, finding a pair of perfectly tailored jeans is always a stress-inducing quest, but the staff at Rivet aims to ameliorate any denim related anxiety with their knowledge of which brands, fabrics, and cuts, of their jeans are best suited for their individual customers’ bodies. They carry high-end designer favorites like Joe’s, Mavi, Paige, and Hudson, in multiple dyes, rises, and leg openings, so there’s bound to be at least one pair that makes your tush look tighter. And although Rivet prides themselves on their collection of trendy jeans, they also sell basic men’s and women’s t-shirts and darling little dresses.

BLACK HORSE PUB

Even on a sleepy Sunday night, a decent crowd filled Black Horse Pub on 5th Avenue. Although this self-described “friendly neighborhood pub” has been open for the past two years, the introduction of the NFL Sunday Ticket and World Cup soccer viewings, catapulted this Park Slope spot into Sports Bar Heaven. Inside the unassuming, classic sandstone and deep wood decorated space, I chatted up the Pub’s charismatic bartender, who attempted to give me the “real Black Horse Pub experience” (or as close to real as he could muster on a Sunday night). He started by serving me a carefully poured Boddingtons, an English beer and favorite of the Pub’s Brit owner, followed by a shot of Jameson. A man seated next to me watched the Rangers game while devouring pub fare—”Meat On a Roll” ($6): a potato roll, creamery butter, and irish banger or bacon; and a cozy looking couple were seated at a table behind me, perusing Black Horse’s healthy selection of craft beers from the chalkboard menu. Suffice to say, Black Horse Pub is a jack of all sports bar trades—I was told there is dancing and a DJ on Friday nights.

CULTURE

Last summer, Park Slope was treated with a rather alternative sweet-treat; a yogurt shop. Culture on 5th Avenue doles out dollops of fresh yogurt, made in-house, paired with in-season fruit toppings and baked good crumbles. The yogurt, which is crafted with skim, reduced fat, or organic whole milk and then strained with the shop’s own probiotic cultures, is served at either room temperature or as a frozen yogurt dessert. A medium cup of true fro-yo swimming in fresh mango for only $4.75? and the strains used to create the yogurt can boost my immune system? Culture is certainly the sweetest and healthiest treat Park Slope has been given in a while.

DIZZY’S ON 5TH

The Slope’s favorite “finer diner”, Dizzy’s, recently expanded to the corners of 5th Avenue and President Street! The signature tomato red awning of Dizzy’s on 5th boasts the words “Cool Comfort” as their tagline, and that is just what hungry visitors will experience. Similar to the original, Dizzy’s on 5th offers an expansive menu of clean and classic dishes; the breakfast bill of fare is served until 4p.m. and includes an array of breakfast sandwiches that feature eggs or sausage as their star ingredient ($3.25-$5.50), homemade granola ($6), and pistachio crusted banana stuffed french toast ($10). Meanwhile, Dizzy’s lunch menu is full of diner favorites like the Tuna Mac Daddy ($11), Dad’s Favorite Meatloaf ($15.50), The Hot Howie Reuben ($11) and a Salmon Burger ($12). Also, don’t miss their daily dinner specials, a different “American Classic” every night for only $12. I’ll be at Dizzy’s on 5th next Saturday night ordering a Shepherd’s Pot Pie, and devouring it in their al-fresco seating section (a prime spot to people watch).

HUNGRY GHOST

Atypical to the rest of Park Slope, coffee shops on Flatbush between 5th and 7th Avenues are few and far between… but now, Hungry Ghost, a new coffee bar and cafe, has opened on 6th Avenue! Sandwiched between two train stations (the 2 & 3 trains at Bergen Street and the B & Q trains at 7 Av), Hungry Ghost has become a local meeting spot on the border of Park Slope and Prospect Heights. However, I celebrate the new coffee spot for reasons other than its geographic desirability: they boastfully roast Stumptown beans and serve it as their house-brand, and their coffee menu features all the cafe classics like Vanilla Lattes, Red Eyes, and Machiatos ($2-$4.25). Meanwhile, Hungry Ghost’s food menu transcends the trite pastry offerings of neighboring cafes; they serve cold sandwiches like Curried Chicken Salad with grapes, cashews, and shredded carrot on multigrain ($6.50), or hot paninis comprised of bacon, smoked gouda, roasted tomatoes and garlic mayo ($8.25)—and all of their meat ingredients hail from Paisano’s! The owner of Hungry Ghost clearly places importance on selling artisanal, quality goods to his customers; this is made apparent by the vast array of baked goods on display inside the cafe. Molasses spice with crystallized ginger cookies? Vegan carrot zucchini with walnut and currant bars? Hungry Ghost is seriously a dream situation for both Park Slope and Prospect Heights cafe dwellers.

TALDE

Earlier this year, 7th Avenue was gifted with a “casual” yet “elevated” Asian-American restaurant, Talde, which is named after the eponymous chef and owner, Dave Talde. That’s right, Park Slope has a hot new date-spot! Chef Talde (of Buddakan and “Top Chef” fame), and his partners David Massoni and John Bush (of Thistle Hill Tavern), have curated an impeccable menu that draws from Mr. Talde’s Filipino heritage. The restaurant’s cuisine incorporates local Brooklyn ingredients in unexpected ways; Talde’s Pretzel Pork & Chive Dumplings with spicy mustard ($8) is both savory and zesty, the Crispy Oyster and Bacon Pad Thai ($16) is an appetizing marriage of Eastern and Western components, and the Korean Fried Chicken ($23) transcends street-cart status with spicy kimchee yogurt, grapes, and mint. For dessert, guests are encouraged to try the Shaved Ice Sundae with Cap’n Crunch and Coconut, a play on Chef Talde’s favorite Filipino treat, halo-halo. If you’re into sugary Saturday morning cereal for dessert, this one’s for you. As for me? I achingly await my return to Talde for their Golden Beet and Silken Tofu Salad ($10) and their special side dish, #369 ($7), which is comprised of market vegetables and green sambal, a chili based Southeast Asian condiment.

If you have a new business opening in Park Slope, South Slope or Prospect Heights, let us know! office@psreader.com

Music, Right Here in Park Slope!

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Music

I am currently in the process of assembling my summer concert wardrobe despite being ashamed of the blatant vanity inherent in producing a “summer concert wardrobe.” But come on, concerts are hard to dress for! You’ve got to take heat, dirt, sweat, and possible (read: probable) beer spills into consideration. And let’s be honest here, although culturally stimulating, a concert is still a social gathering. So, I’m expected to welcome grass stains on my ass, laugh when a clumsy friend douses me with her drink, and still look like a Park Slope Peach (let alone a presentable member of society)?

This is where festival shorts come in. You see, festival shorts are high-waisted little jean numbers that are gussied up by smatterings of metal studs and splashes of bleach or tie-dye. I can probably make these myself with a pair of scissors and a glue gun. The problem is, I’m not crafty enough to make “the perfect pair” myself, and apparently neither is anyone else on Etsy or Ebay, I tend to think to myself as I hunt through hundreds of search results for the pair of festival shorts that I know I am destined to wear this impending summer to Celebrate Brooklyn! at the Bandshell in Prospect Park. They are hot weather appropriate, comfortable enough to wear all day, and with their spunky accoutrements they seem to say “I am totally stoked on seeing this free show right now at the Bandshell in my rad outfit”. Plus, I don’t care if I get a pair of cut-off jean shorts a little dirty.

What I do care about is going to hear live music all summer long. I’m serious about this–more serious than I am about those shorts. Indoors, outdoors, free, small venue, massive festival, my favorite band, or even a loathsome Beach Boys cover band, I’m there. I would say, “I’m there, weather permitting,” but I am down to see a concert even if it’s pouring Park Slope cats and dogs because concerts define the sunny season for me. My muscles have been thawed out and then warmed up from spring and my body can move to the music with newly acquired fluidity; I feel more social in the sunshine (especially with a Brooklyn Summer Ale in my hand), and in some ways, I think the amplification of an electric guitar is delivered to my core faster in the estival months.

I’m sure you’re aching to hear live music this summer in Park Slope, too, seeing as there are oodles of musicians and bands set to perform in the neighborhood in the coming months. And while wearing festival shorts is optional, attending as many local concerts as possible is not! So, I will see you at all of the imminent Park Slope concerts worth note that I’ve outlined for y’all to jot down in your day planners and refrigerator calendars, okay? Okay!

CELEBRATE BROOKLYN! 2012
Prospect Park West & 9th Street
www.bricartsmedia.org

Let’s start with Celebrate Brooklyn!, one of New York’s longest running, free, outdoor concert series that attracts upwards of 250,000 people from all over the city each summer. I know, so many foreign bodies in our beloved park can make us feel all territorial, but let us all take a cue from my man Biggie: “spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way”. This year we’ve got a veritable rainbow of musicians coming to perform at the Prospect Park Bandshell for Celebrate Brooklyn! 2012, and all of the shows are free! Of course, you can still buy tickets to get seats at the benefit concerts (but you can also just hang out on a blanket behind the seating section and get the same, if not better, experience):

• On June 23, Ghostface Killah, as part of the Bud Light Music Series, is taking the stage. This is the hip-hop highlight of Celebrate Brooklyn!’s summer run and isn’t Ghostface Killah everyone’s favorite Wu-Tang Clan member?

• The first benefit concert will be held on June 26 and features Childish Gambino, Danny Brown, and Schoolboy Q. Childish Gambino has a viral cult following largely due to his impressive hip-hop and lyrical stylings. Alternatively, Danny Brown spews out raw, gritty rap and recently appeared on XXL’s 2012 “Top 10 Freshmen List”. He also has a song called “Blunt After Blunt”, so, you know, lighters up at this show.

• Dirty Projectors. Wye Oak. Purity Ring. Brooklyn-based indie rock band meets Baltimore indie folk band meets Canadian indie electronic band, respectively. Benefit show. I can’t say anything else except !!! and also inform you that you will absolutely see me at this show on July 10 in my festival shorts. Bet on it.

• Although Wilco will be playing two benefit shows at the Bandshell this summer (July 23&24), I suggest going to the one on the the 23rd, when Lee Fields and the Expressions will also perform. Wilco, possibly the coolest dad rock band there is, always brings out a full crowd of all ages. Alternatively, Lee Fields is so awesomely soulful and melodic in his deliverance that you could suddenly fall in love with the person standing next to you just listening to his music. I may or may not know this from experience.

• The Head and the Heart and Lost in the Trees may seem like the titles of poems you wrote in high school, but seriously, these two indie bands are equal parts stunning and intellectual in terms of their music, and they will be performing on July 27. They have both garnered significant praise from outlets like NPR and the LA Times for their American roots revival efforts. I’m expecting a lot of ladies in long floral skirts to be at this one.

• August 3 brings Wild Flag and Mission of Burma to Prospect Park. First of all, are we all excited that Wild Flag front-woman Carrie Brownstein (of Portlandia fame) is performing in our fair borough? And are we stoked on seeing the seemingly resurrected Mission of Burma bring post-punk to the park? Yeah, me too.

• The last benefit concert of the summer is on August 7 and features M. Ward and Yo La Tengo. M. Ward is a member of Zooey Deschanel’s She & Him and also of Monsters of Folk, but I’m on the fence about him. I’m on the fence about anyone who associates with twee-queen Zooey Deschanel. However, I’m greatly awaiting a slew of Yo La Tengo cover songs to kiss my eardrums! YLT cover songs forever.

THE BELL HOUSE
149 7th Street
718.643.6510
www.thebellhouseny.com

Next let’s take a peek at The Bell House’s upcoming summer concerts. Well, what’s been listed so far. The Bell House is known around these parts as a lovely bar and intimate concert venue. Big names, niche musicians, and local bands have all had their time in the sun here. They also have quirky events at the bar pretty regularly:

• On June 24, The Bell House will see the likes of comedian Wyatt Cenac and the Brooklyn-based synthpop duo Chairlift. This event goes by the name of “King’s County” is being hosted by WNYC’s Kurt Andersen and performance artist Lucy Sexton. Essentially, this seems like it’s going to a Brooklyn-pride kind of show, so we should all probably go to this show and rep our bad-ass borough.

• Ted Leo and the Pharmacists have been kickin’ for over a decade now and on June 27, the seasoned punk-indie fusion band will be performing. Funny girl Julie Klausner is also recording her podcast “How Was Your Week?” during the TL/Rx show (clearly, “TL/Rx” is the “cool” way to say Ted Leo and the Pharmacists).

• Friday the 13th (of July) doesn’t have to be a creepy day for you if you head over to the Bell House to the first day of Laura Rebel Angel’s 6th annual Psychobilly Luau Weekender. The luau runs from the 13th through the 15th, and while Ms. Rebel Angel has not released the names of the bands performing at the event, she has assured us all that the weekend will be full of Psychobilly culture, fashion, music, and art. I am going to this thing and making a veteran Psychobilly teach me how to tie a bandana-bow around my head without looking like a goof.

• My little brother keeps telling me to listen to this brother-sister duo band “White Mystery” and I keep telling him I’ll get around to it. I’m sure he’ll be just thrilled to know that on July 21 White Mystery is playing with Shonen Knife and Flown. Oh, hey, Japanese female punk and the band my baby brother keeps nagging me to get into all in one show? Truly, this sounds like a dream situation.

THE WAY STATION
683 Washington Ave
347.627.4949
www.waystationbk.blogspot.com

And finally, let’s look at the Way Station, which may seem like an unassuming Prospect Heights bar from the outside, but the inside is buzzing with live music and a handsome crowd of young locals. If you’re not up for going to a proper concert, but still want to jam to some live tunes, go the way of the Way Station; they have live music performances almost every night of the week!

• On June 21, Ashley Boehm is throwing a nerd cabaret at the bar. She’s known as a jazz singer, but for the purposed of her cabaret she’ll be turning classic pop medleys to Harry Potter and Doctor Who worship songs. If you were waiting for the right time to wear your vanity, non-prescription, glasses in public….now is your chance!

• I have to include the Smith & 9th Ward event being held at the bar on June 30 at the bar due to its punny and perfect title. The Smith & 9th Ward performance showcases New Orleans styled grooves that have been reappropriated with a Brooklyn attitude. I didn’t know Brooklyn-New Orleans fusion was even a thing, so, I want to see how this pans out.

• “Severe”, “2Tens”, “High Definition” and “Hot Lunch” are performing on July 7 at the Way Station, and no, those are not the names of different bands—those are the names of the Hadron the Collider’s band members. Wacky. Hadron the Collider is a self-proclaimed science/art rock band who sound a little bit like Modest Mouse or Built to Spill. I hope they wear quirky outfits!

OTHER PARK SLOPE MUSIC VENUES

There are dozens of other venues in Park Slope to listen to live music or see concerts in the sunny season. Check them out!

BAM Café
Peter Jay Sharp Building
30 Lafayette Avenue
718.636.4100
www.bam.org

Bar 4
444 7th Avenue
718.832.9800
www.bar4brooklyn.com

Brooklyn Lyceum
227 4th Avenue
www.brooklynlyceum.com

Brooklyn Conservatory of Music
58 7th Avenue
718.622.3300
www.bqcm.org

The Fifth Estate
505 5th Avenue
718.840.0089
www.fifthestatebar.com

The Rock Shop
249 4th Avenue
718.230.5740
www.therockshopny.com

Union Hall
702 Union Street
718.638.4400
www.unionhallny.com

Be Cool

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Coffee Culture

Our picks for the best iced coffee in the neighborhood

Now that our neighborhood days are officially saturated with the rays of summer and playing host to humidity filled days and nights, to sip coffee- cold and iced – is seasonally de rigueur. In the modern tradition of the six word memoir, we offer you eight coffee spaces -one on the border of our readership lines – to frequent for reprieve. Each space, described by tasting notes as discerned by our palates, as well as their aesthetic ambiance inspired our list of eight places to bust the heat with cultural cool.

	40 Weight Café 492 6th Ave. btw 12th & 13th fortyweightcoffee.com 6 Word Memoir \| Flavor goes boom. Vintage taste, alfresco. Beans By \| 40 Weight
	Café Grumpy 383 7th Ave. btw 11th & 12th cafegrumpy.com 6 Word Memoir \| Like clingstone peach, sweetness under trees. Beans By \| Café Grumpy
	Crespella 321 7th Ave. btw 8th & 9th crespellabk.com 6 Word Memoir \| Cocoa bitters. Almond tease. Darling Italy. Beans By \| Stumptown
	Crop to Cup 541 3rd Ave. btw 13th & 14th croptocup.com 6 Word Memoir \| Ripened berries. Woodsy charm, urban respite. Beans By \| Crop to Cup
	De luxe Coffee 410 7th Ave. btw 13th & 14th deluxebrooklyn.com 6 Word Memoir \| A spread of blackberry jam. Home. Beans By \| Doma
	Little Zelda 728 Franklin Ave. btw Sterling Pl. & Park Pl. 6 Word Memoir \| Chocolate toddy cure. Transmitting the 1950’s. Beans By \| Toby’s Estate
	Southside Coffee 652 6th Ave. btw 17th & 18th 6 Word Memoir \| Cocoa and Molasses. Palate, whistle away! Beans By \| George Howell
	Two Moon Art House & Café 315 4th Ave. btw 2nd & 3rd twomoonbklyn.com 6 Word Memoir \| Moments of mandarin malt. Artists’ terroir. Beans By \| Birch Coffee

Dining out: Va Beh’

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: The Reader On Food

444 Dean Street btw 5th Ave & Flatbush

Nestled in the shadow of Atlantic Yards is an unexpected surprise. Va Beh’ is a sophisticated oasis in the sea of quick bites and fast food restaurants, quietly waiting to serve you delicious, affordable, Italian cuisine. It’s a crisp, intimate setting of three wooden communal tables that sit six each and a row of ten stools along the bar. The whole front wall is a window, which lifts up in warmer weather, giving you the feel of a European café. Vases of fresh yellow tulips and tea candles dot the tables, along with little silver buckets of unshelled nuts and small plates of marinated olives that replace the ubiquitous bread basket. When the waiters (dressed in button-downs, bowties, and jeans and chattering in Italian behind the bar) catch you reading over their wine list written directly onto the marble wall behind them, they offer to do a table-side wine tasting of your top three choices. It’s an extensive list, which also includes prosecco on tap.

The menu is not quite as large, but it still proves difficult to narrow down. While it’s not particularly creative, it manages to hit all of the Italian classics. With only a few options for entrees, Va Beh’s strength lies in its range of appetizers which include crostini, salad, cheese, salumi, and small dishes. It would be easy to treat Va Beh’ as a tapas restaurant, rather than sticking to your standard courses. For the main dish, their homemade pastas shine, with a selection of simple sauce and vegetable or meat combinations. I have trouble choosing between the cavatelli with sausage and broccoli rabe, and the rigatoni with eggplant and primo sale, but I finally decide on the rigatoni, with mussels to start.

I can smell the mussels coming from the kitchen five minutes before they arrive at the table. When they’re set in front of me, simmering in their pot, I can hardly wait for them to cool down enough to eat. The tomato sauce is light, with parsley and whole cloves of garlic, and it compliments the mussels just so without overpowering them. I can still taste the ocean. And while Va Beh’ is a place that inspires you to be on your best behavior, I can’t help but lick the sauce from my fingers, not wanting to waste a drop on my napkin. This is the only moment I miss a bread basket, wishing I could scoop up the remaining sauce after the mussels are devoured. I manage to sneak a few spoonfuls before the pot is replaced with the pasta.

Happily, the sauce for the rigatoni is the same, but I have to pause after my first bite to sit and appreciate Va Beh’s homemade pasta, which has the perfect al dente chew to it. It’s a modestly sized and simple dish, but nonetheless very satisfying. The eggplant brings an earthy smokiness that adds the most interest, which is wonderfully complimented by the light-as-air crumbles of primo sale, a young lightly-salted sheep’s cheese. It’s not difficult to have a three-course meal for $30 at Va Beh’, so by all means you should finish off with one of their traditional desserts, like the sinfully creamy panna cotta, or the tiramisu. What really elevates the meal throughout each course is the standard of excellence for their ingredients. The freshness immediately transports me from the dreariness of my late-Spring visit, to when you’re likely reading this on a long, peaceful Summer day.

In their own words

About
Va Beh’s concept is simple — highest quality ingredients, uncomplicated dishes, no pretense.

Description
Natives of central Milano, owners Andrea Alari and Qiana and Michele Bi Bari grew up immersed in the cuisine of Italys’ Cosmopolitan Metropolis. Milano, much like New York, is a multicultural city whose palette reflects its diversity. Michele and Andrea grew up surrounded by families who migrated to Milano, a city that seemed to always transcend regional divisions. This pride is reflected in the diversity of Va beh’s menu.

With over twenty years of experience in the culinary arts, hospitality, design, and entertainment arenas, Va beh’ was a meeting of the minds for these three. Nostalgic for home, they painstakingly created “one of the most authentic Italian restaurants in New York.” Housemade pastas and desserts, crostini, salumi, are all made even tastier by the enchanting and boisterous atmosphere. Greeted with an enthusiastic “Buona Sera!” by an animated and gracious Italian staff who both nurture and entertain, the atmosphere mirrors the elegance of the menu with marble walls, communal tables, and wine on tap.

Toughest critics- Italian natives and frequenters of Italy have described Va beh’ as their “go to when they are homesick,” a “mood lifter” and a “mini vacation overseas” The goal was to create dishes that stay true to what Italian cooking is all about “ simple dishes that highlight the natural taste of the ingredients…mangiare… “Mangiare Bene”.

The Summer Of Yum

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: The Reader On Food

Summer is a particularly fun time to live in Brooklyn. Whether it’s exploring innovative flavors and formats for pie, offering an opportunity to churn ice cream with a bicycle, or serving up a quirky dim sum brunch, these lighthearted shops, restaurants, and bars should be added to your ever-expanding list on how to make the most of our borough’s time to shine.

Join the Pie Corps

When Cheryl Perry and Felipa Lopez became friends ten years ago, they knew they were meant to go into business together. With a shared love of food, they began throwing around ideas on how they could fit in the burgeoning artisanal food scene. They would get together and spend days in the kitchen, baking bread, making sausages, or experimenting with candy making. None of these ventures seemed just right, but thankfully for us, it dawned on them one day to try baking pies. Cheryl, who had been working in the food industry for years as a chef, culinary arts teacher, and food service consultant, had been making a pie a day because “making a good pie is integral to being a good chef.” She discovered that Felipa, who was an acupuncturist that loved to cook, had also been making a pie a day, and the idea for Pie Corps was born.

“I feel like people are trying pie, but aren’t quite getting it yet,” Cheryl suggested to Felipa one day. They were excited by the endless potential for creating new and exciting pies, and liked the idea of not being limited by choosing something that had to be either savory or sweet. Pies could move through the seasons, and be able to reflect what was happening in New York if they used local ingredients. They spent a summer together in Cheryl’s home in Barryville, baking pies and experimenting with ingredients and flavors. The summer resulted in an amazing crust recipe – perfectly flaky with just the right amount of sweetness – and about twenty different fillings. They started to bring their pies to the local farmers’ market to test their popularity, and they ended up being a big hit, which gave them the confidence to bring the business back to the city. Their presence at the farmers’ market had another important effect on Pie Corps. Working side-by-side with the local farmers introduced them to new ideas. Farmers would come to them with produce they had a surplus of. “I have these ingredients I don’t know what to do with. I’ll give them to you, if you give me one of the pies you come up with in return.”

Now, Pie Corps has a plethora of pies that tend to be “sweet with a savory attitude,” or savory options that are conscientious of what’s in season. Their most popular sweet pie is their chocolate pudding pie, which updates a childhood favorite with a top layer of ganache, a drizzle of rosemary caramel, and a sprinkle of sea salt. Other options include an apple whiskey crumb pie with candied pecans, a lemon buttermilk chess pie, and a ricotta cheesecake with candied lemon. A favorite savory pie that has been offered is their fried chicken pie with baked beans and gravy, or a bulgoki style beef pie with turnip kimchi. Other creations have included a caramelized onion and goat cheese pie and a curried potato and peas pie. All of their pies are made with as many local, in-season ingredients as possible, and they take care in using high quality ingredients. An added benefit is that their pies are sugar free; they use evaporate cane juice instead.

It didn’t take long for Pie Corps to expand their offerings beyond traditional pies, coming up with different takes on pie that are as creative as their flavors. Pie pops and pies in mason jars have been popular for weddings, and their bags of Pielettes are a great snack to sample their wares in miniature two-bite pies. After their success at farmers’ markets like the New Amsterdam and Hester Street markets, they began to be approached with wholesale inquiries, which sparked the idea to open up a permanent location of their own. So, this summer, fans can rejoice in the new Pie Corps store opening in Greenpoint on 77 Driggs Avenue, where you’ll be able to find all of your favorite pies, pops, and Pielettes.

Crossing the Brooklyn Ferry for Ice Cream

It’s fitting that the name of an ice cream shop owned by a writer references a poem by Walt Whitman. The poem in question, “Crossing the Brooklyn Ferry” – which is also etched into the railing of the current ferry landing in DUMBO – is Whitman’s love letter to a city in its infancy. 150 years later, Brooklyn has plenty more to be inspired by than farmlands and corrugated cardboard factories, including the Ample Hills Creamery on 623 Vanderbuilt Avenue in Prospect Heights. Brian Smith wrote sci-fi screenplays, not poems, but still lived a life Brooklyn writers ever since Whitman are all too familiar with: enjoying infrequent success, constantly combating anxiety and rejection, and feeling unfulfilled with what it takes to make writing full-time work. So, he got to thinking what he could be doing instead. He wanted something that was still creative, but more hands-on and community-oriented than the lonely and isolated life of a writer. The answer was ice cream.

Smith started with a Cuisinart machine in his kitchen, experimenting with bases and flavor combinations. Coming up with new flavors was a natural fit. “You borrow a little from here. You steal a little from there. It’s just like writing.” As Smith grew more comfortable with the process, he knew he didn’t want to lose this homemade feel to his product once he was making it for the masses, so he decided to boil it down to a science. He enrolled in the Ice Cream Short Course at Penn State’s College of Agricultural Science (the course, which has been around since 1892, has a roster of notable alums like Ben and Jerry’s, Good Humor, and Haagen-Dazs) to study the technical chemistry involved in ice cream-making and manufacturing. Feeling confident, Smith tested the product out of a cart in Prospect Park and was quickly bolstered by its popularity to open up a shop nearby with his wife.

Now, Ample Hills serves a rotating cast of 24 flavors of Smith’s lovingly made small-batch ice cream. Sure to be on the menu is the shop’s most popular flavor, Salted Crack Caramel, which pushes the classic salty-sweet combination to its limit with the addition of a friend’s invented “crack cookies” made of Saltines, butter, sugar, and chocolate. Other standouts are Stout and Pretzels (made with Sixpoint Otis chocolate stout and chocolate-covered pretzels), Black Cow Float (root beer ice cream with a chocolate swirl), A Lovely Day (white chocolate ice cream with rainbow cookies), and Peppermint Pattie (peppermint ice cream with homemade peppermint patties). The freshness of the ingredients elevates the painstaking process to another level; the dairy products are local, all-natural, and from hormone-free animals.

Ice cream always makes summertime extra special, but what about those of you who are lucky enough to have a summer birthday? If you’ve felt stifled by the same-old ice cream cakes and sundae bars for years, try something different this year by having Ample Hills host a make-your-own ice cream party. Guests work together to design their own flavor of ice cream, then take turns churning it with the help of the creamery’s awesome ice cream bicycle, which powers the ice cream maker attached to it. When it’s all set, the party ends with a sundae bar to enjoy eating the finished product. Of course, it’s a wonderful idea for kids (who come up with flavors like gummy worm ice cream), but Ample Hills also offers after-hours adult parties (who come up with flavors like bourbon ice cream). It’s services like this that separate Ample Hills from other ice cream shops as a true community-gathering spot, where you’re encouraged to linger, catching the ice cream drips in between catching up with your friends, sharing a milkshake with your date, or reading a story to your kids.

Culture Clash

When Dale Talde, David Massoni, and John Bush converged to create Talde (369 7th Avenue, Park Slope) they had decades of experience between them. Talde, known for his run on Top Chef and Top Chef All Stars as well as his work at Buddakan, had been working in the industry since he was nineteen, inspired by his fond memories of eating delicious potluck meals with his large family. Bush had risen through the ranks of bartending to owning neighborhood-favorite, Thistle Hill Tavern, with Massoni. Massoni had big names on his resumé, like opening Chelsea hotspot Lotus and working with Mario Batali at Esca and Babbo, as well as a year-long stint in Italy. The three of them had been friends for years when Talde finally decided to make moves on opening his own restaurant, a lifelong dream of his. He turned to Massoni and Bush for advice after seeing their success with Thistle Hill, and they realized they made a dream team. “I like to say that Dale’s the talent, Dave’s the brains, and I’m the mouth,” says Bush as we sit at the bar, a quiet finally settling over the restaurant after one of their first brunches is over. Together, they created a vision that was authentically Asian-American, in that it reflected the experience of that particular culture, rather than dumbing down Asian cuisine for a (stereotypically) American palette. Talde says, “I wanted the food to draw on what I ate growing up – my mom’s wonton soup, my aunt’s oxtail stew – my travels, and my American point of view.”

Originally, they were imagining a quick noodle joint that was more of a neighborhood hangout than an upscale restaurant. But when they found the carved mahogany pieces that are featured throughout the room, the image quickly escalated into a sleeker, hipper space. Jazz completes the intimate atmosphere. Nonetheless, friends and family are endlessly streaming in and out, along with patrons who are flocking to Talde thanks to his TV credentials and rave reviews. Not to mention, the food itself is exciting. Take the brunch menu, which includes pretzel pork and chive dumplings, lobster bao buns, everything bagel spring rolls, and Korean chicken wings and waffles with a coconut brown butter syrup. This East-meets-West aesthetic continues in the dinner menu with the Singapore chili soft shell crab banh mi, char siu smoked spare ribs with Thai basil and pears, and a crispy oyster and bacon pad thai. The menu is market-driven and incorporates local ingredients, so it changes throughout the year.

You can tell the difference between walking into a place that’s opened by a businessman who has dropped into a neighborhood because it’s trendy, and walking into a place that’s owned by someone who actually lives nearby. Talde, Massoni, and Bush like being able to see the same faces every day, knowing their customers and the other business owners in the area. “I keep opening up places that I want to go to,” says Massoni. “This is my community, I want to be a part of it.” So, the team has decided that they’re not stopping with Talde. Coming this summer to the vacancy left by Aunt Suzie’s at 247 5th Avenue is Pork Slope, a bar that suits Talde’s original vision. “We want Pork Slope to be the bar that we all grew up in,” says Talde, who goes on to describe a local dive in the neighborhood of Chicago he grew up in, where he’d go for pitchers, beer, wings, and sports. For Bush, it was Max Fish.

The scene will be unpretentious with some flair, focusing more on creating a comfortable place to hang out after work than a pristine gastropub. TVs and pool tables will be present, as will 25 beers on tap, an even more extensive beer list in bottles and cans, and a cocktail list that focuses on dark brown American liquor. But with Talde involved, of course there will be good food, available until 2am. While Talde’s menu is Asian with Southern stylings, Pork Slope will flip the formula upside down and serve classic Americana bar food with a touch of quirkiness. Early talks of the menu include bigger dishes like pulled pork, ribs, and wings, but Talde is most excited about the Chicago style hot dogs and, of all things, the tater tots, which will be fried in pork fat. There will also be food served during the day on weekends, but don’t you call it “brunch.” Talde prefers it to be called hangover food – think breakfast burritos, scrapple, and egg sandwiches. Talde, Massoni, and Bush like to say that they’re creating Pork Slope for themselves, as their own bar to retreat to when their shifts at Talde and Thistle Hill are over, but there’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll be sitting in there alone.

How Yoga Can Free Your Body

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Yoga

The provocative title of William Broad’s article in the January 8th New York Times Magazine – How Yoga Can Wreck your Body – has a whole nation of yogis buzzing. The news is that people can hurt themselves doing yoga. But they don’t have to. Bring some mindfulness and sound movement principles to your practice, and you greatly reduce your chance of injury.

Broad’s indictment is, well, pretty broad. His sensational warning overlooks some essential elements: the wild panoply of yogic varieties, the habits of mind and body we each bring to the mat, the vagaries of teachers’ instructional skills, and the risks that accompany all human movement – athletic or sedentary.

What are we calling yoga? Is it restorative — a few select poses with the body cushioned by props to encourage calm and gentle release? Is it Power Yoga, blending yoga’s whispered influence of British calisthenics with America’s gym culture? Are you performing asanas under the watchful eye of a knowledgeable instructor, or going through your yogic paces in a room of 50 others? Is it Bikram’s sweltering unchangeable routine of 26 poses, each done twice with zero individual feedback? Or is it an innovative class, brimming with anatomical information and a skilled instructor’s carefully chosen words and subtle hands-on suggestions? Yoga is a vast, complex field, practiced or taught badly or well.

A longtime teacher of dance, exercise and yoga, I became an Alexander Technique teacher 24 years ago because I saw it as the most fundamental approach to healthy movement, a physical alphabet, an elegant way to help people understand and unravel the chronic tensions that interfere with their comfort, productivity and overall health. I have watched my students bring their own brand of unconscious muscular tension to every activity, including yoga.

With many more people doing yoga, more will get hurt. According to Yoga Journal, 20 million are practicing and another 18 million think they should. They hear from a friend or physician that “yoga is good for you,” yet have no idea of the wide spectrum of styles and approaches. For a novice, going to a class is a leap of faith. Injury and pain result when people don’t know how the body is meant to work – with appropriate effort, ease, fluidity and clarity. That’s what they come to learn. If the teacher is performing rather than observing the class, they won’t give the specific feedback essential to a student’s progress. How can you open your hip joints if you don’t know where they are?

There are other reasons that yoga can challenge the hopeful beginner. Yoga’s popularity means that the class you attend will be shared with a multi-level crowd. Studios and fitness centers make money from high volume classes, so even the best-informed, well-meaning instructors can only lead, not teach, the group. That can make for a dynamic experience, but individual guidance is impossible. The sweat flies and you’re on your own.

The best teachers help their students modulate their efforts. They help them slow down when they rush. They thoroughly warm the body, break down the elements of a new posture and calm students’ unreasonable expectations. They help them smooth ragged breathing and offer props to help them adjust to their limitations, guiding them to build flexibility and strength gradually. They help students build the most crucial psychophysical skill: awareness.

Most injuries result from a lapse of awareness. We compare ourselves to others and, in striving to compete, strain beyond our current range. We look at a picture of an accomplished yogi and think we should look like that. What some call “ego” can lead to an obsessive, extreme asana practice. Broad gave the example of someone who sat on flexed feet for hours in vajrasana and ended up with problems walking. Yikes! You can bet that this yogi ignored his body’s distress signals for a long time. And if someone’s ribs pop out during a spinal twist, that practitioner has abnormally mobile joints or is just working way too hard.

Lack of awareness can also come from the teacher. An instructor’s uninformed, aggressive manual adjustment can push you into an unnecessarily extreme range, causing injury and discouraging you from a potentially beneficial practice. One instructor pulled a friend of mine up into the deep backbend of a wheel before his back was pliable and his hip joints open. He spent the next few weeks recuperating and avoided yoga class for a year. Now, with the all the necessary preliminary increments, he can counter the hours he spends at his desk with this exuberant, uplifting pose.

Props – widely used in most classes – can help. Broad says that noted teacher Iyengar recommends shoulder stands with no prop on a bare floor. This is ludicrous. Any informed yogi knows that Iyengar created the use – some say overuse – of props to help each student accommodate to increments of strength or stretch. Go to any Iyengar class, and you too will be dutifully folding your blanket and arranging your props, learning the detailed method that has inspired many other branches of yoga.

A great support for the new yoga student is the Alexander Technique. All people, including yogis, should learn this method’s accessible, simple principles. F.M. Alexander, to solve his own chronic vocal problem, created a comprehensive approach to the integrated use of the human body. He realized that a light, free relationship between the head and the neck restores the spine’s resiliency, making all movement safer and more harmonious. He called this relationship the primary control, and it is a powerful tool in solving our epidemic of back problems, one reason people come to yoga. When the neck is free, the spine responds.

Extreme neck flexion does not have to accompany any yoga pose. Using the Alexander Technique, we can avoid serious injury by avoiding the extreme neck flexion or extension that puts undue pressure on the entire spine and can cause back problems and spinal injuries. In a sweeping generalization, Broad writes that experienced yoga practitioners encourage extreme neck flexion. But the Technique has already influenced yoga, and recently I have heard teachers use more cues to coach their students toward an easier head/neck relationship.

For example, you can do a classic cobra with a slight, graceful arc in the neck, distributing support and effort through the entire spine. Students without this insight can crunch their heads down on the spine in any pose, not just a wheel or a shoulder stand. In fact, people have gotten strokes from extreme neck extension while having their hair washed before a haircut. And you don’t have to do yoga to acquire back or shoulder problems. You can be sitting at your desk.

Just by hunching over your computer, you can develop stenosis, herniation, sciatica, severe back pain, repetitive wrist strain, chronic headaches, neck and shoulder injuries. One of my former clients threw his back out turning a page of the New York Times. When he came to me for Alexander lessons, we spent the next few months exploring and undoing the chronic tension that preceded that injury, and he learned from it. People need to learn how to move well, whatever they do.

Fitness fads come and go, each with their own risks, rewards and lessons to be learned. In my years as dancer and inveterate exerciser, I’ve joined most of them. In the early 70s, when Kenneth Cooper touted aerobics, I donned my Adidas and ran until, 25 years later, my knees said No more! I became a personal trainer and exercise instructor in the 80s. I taught high impact cardio classes, jumping around to the Pointer Sisters. When fitness buffs’ knees cried out, along came low-impact cardio. When people bouncing along with Jane Fonda injured their hamstrings, we learned that bouncing makes the muscles contract rather than stretch. Now we’re learning that extremity, obsession, competition and inadequate instruction don’t foster a healthy yoga practice. Since physical labor went out and a sedentary lifestyle came in, as a culture we have been conducting a long, varied experiment in exercise. And some of the people Broad describes have learned, the hardest way.

The beauty of yoga is that it takes us desk-sitters and moves us through a full range of motion. We have time to focus on our breath, to find much-needed relief from our hyped-up lifestyle. We join with others who share a common purpose – to explore, stretch the mind, move the body into new realms, to feel the pulse, oil the creaky joints and clear the mind with a fresh infusion of oxygen. How many times have we – students and teachers – been transformed by the experience?

Our challenge is to make yoga a contrast to — rather than an imitation of — our nutty culture. As yoga teachers, we must watch our students and make sure that we help them unravel harmful muscular constrictions as they move. I have taken wonderful yoga classes with teachers who continue to refine their understanding of the body, the self and this integrative practice.

Using the Alexander Technique, I have guided students from teenage to elderly to practice safely and appropriately – for their age, fitness level and individual challenges. Every yoga practitioner can benefit from learning Alexander’s principles of natural breath and ease in movement so they can incorporate them into a safer, more life-enhancing practice.

And really, it’s not what you do, but how you do it. Not everyone has to do yoga, and I hope this fear-mongering article doesn’t stop a curious novice from finding a good teacher and giving it a try. We are stressed out, over-medicated, overfed and electronically bombarded. Yet more and more people find relief from our shattered medical system in the current flowering of body disciplines. Yoga is one, Alexander Technique another. Together they create a synergy, a healthy, expansive way to move through your life, that helps us lift our gaze from the screen, redirect our focus, and restore our natural buoyancy. Blending these ancient and modern arts can teach us how to best use the amazing bodies we’ve been given.

Taking The Heat

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Hypocrite's Almanac

Hi. It’s me again. I hope you’re enjoying this relentless summer heat (I’m writing this before the heat comes, btw, just betting it’ll be relentless). Do you remember our winter? Kind of crummy, wasn’t it? Everyone loves a good snow-in. It allows you to brag to your California friends about the beautiful walk you took to the bodega before the plows came down your street and paved the sidewalk with a perfect coat of dog crap. Yet sadly, that beautiful snowfall didn’t happen for us this year. And now, the heat. Horrible, snowy winters seem easier to endure than record-setting, sweltering summers. Sure, we worry about the less fortunate among us in either extreme, but with the heat there’s another element at stake. Our sanity. Heat makes you go c-c-c-c-crazy.

Ooooh, if there was some literary award for smooth transition in hypocritical advice columns (the Hippies?) I would have to take a break here and accept it. Read the letter and see what I mean.

Dear Hypocrite,

With every hot day that passes, I feel like I’m falling further and further into the abyss. I’ve been aware of climate change for over 20 years and at this point despair is the prevailing feeling I experience in my day-to-day existence. The stifling heat is a constant reminder of what we are doing to our planet and all the creatures who live on it. It all seems hopeless. No amount of publicity, no well-produced documentary, no plain-speaking scientist on a late night talk show can wake us up from our arrogant ignorance. I wish I could assume a state of resignation —that I could “que sera, sera” the whole situation and go on a cruise with my loved ones. But alas, that’s not my temperament. Instead, at night I secretly pray for all of us to be destroyed by a plague. I don’t want it to be too painful, mind you, I’m no sadist, but I’m so disgusted with modern civilization and I see no other solution.

Now, I’m willing to deal with my own crippling state of mind—but there’s an issue: that cruise I just mentioned. My parents, the kindest, sweetest people on the planet, have been married for 50 years and are taking my entire family, grandchildren included, on a 10-day cruise to the Virgin Islands. As you can imagine, I feel like I am being sent to my own personal Hell. I really do enjoy spending time with my family, but a cruise typifies all that is wrong with humanity: the wasteful buffets, the massive expenditure of fuel and the dumping of toxic run-off while we’re all barefoot, carefree and doing the limbo on the Lido deck. It’s too much for me to bear. But it’s equally too much for me to bear disappointing my parents who are over the moon at the thought of this floating celebration. Please, tell me what to do. I’m in agony over this. Oh, and one thing you should know. I’m an alcoholic and former pill addict. Please don’t tell me to just hold my nose and stay close to the bar the whole time. That would be dangerous for my health.

Becky from South Slope

Becky? Really? That’s your name? How can you be so dark with a name like Becky? I was certain your name would be Marta, Genevieve or William. But it’s Becky. That’s adorable!

So, bummer about the addiction issue because you called it, I would’ve suggested you to sidle up to dull the reality that you were complicit in supporting this high seas carbon spewing adventure. I would have further suggested the Dirty Martini as the perfect hypocrite’s blues buster. I have to admit, I never really considered the environmental impact of the cruise ship until yesterday, when I happened to choose the most recent EPA Cruise Discharge Assessment Report as my bathroom reading. You were right, Becky! What a toxic nightmare! On the average, the boats generate 21,000 gallons of sewage and 170,000 gallons of graywater a day. Graywater is the wastewater that drains from sinks, showers, and laundry machines so you can imagine the crap thats in it (detergents, oil, grease, and food waste as well as oxygen-depleting nutrients and various pathogens). I couldn’t find any numbers on how much food is thrown out or what the methane emissions are after Fiesta Mexicana night but I did find some surprising news. The Bush administration along with our friends in Canada created an emission reduction plan which requires the use of lighter fuel for all large vessels by 2015. The cargo industry is complying. The cruise industry? Not so much. Their lobbyists are putting pressure on lawmakers to allow them to stick with the same heavy fuel they’ve been using even though the EPA estimates that when the emission reduction plan is fully implemented 31,000 premature deaths per year will be prevented. Hmmmm. Methinks something about the plan must eat into the cruise industry’s profits. Insert sound of my blood boiling here.

Sorry about all that. I don’t think that research helped you with your problem. But because I’m a self-aware hypocrite, I like to know my facts so I can sense the exact way I’m acting contrary to my strong belief system. Back to your problem. The way I see it you have two options. 1. You don’t go. 2. You go. Let’s discuss option one.

No one can force you onto the boat (unless you are Jack Bauer who was bound and gagged and thrown onto a cargo ship headed for China at the end of the fifth season of 24). If you decide not to go, I suggest you write a very thoughtful letter to your parents thanking them for such a generous gift while also explaining to them that going on a cruise would be against every principle you have. Then suggest another way to celebrate the joyous occasion with them. Here are some possibilities: A local bird-watching excursion with a catered picnic lunch; a stargazing party with a quasi-notable astronomer from the nearby community college; a Who Dun It?™ murder mystery night aboard a working antique train. The suggestions must be able to generate a lot of excitement so tailor them to your parents’ interests. Then, via telephone, you must briefly explain to your brothers/sisters your reasons for staying behind and then quickly offer to watch their beloved dog/cat/plant. Your siblings have known you all your life. Chances are, it won’t come as too much of a surprise that you’re boycotting the cruise and ruining everything. Be prepared for some fallout in the form of a good lecture from your older sister including the following words: selfish, selfishness and selfish-ability.

Option #2. You go. This is only an option if you promise to shut the hell up about anything regarding an ecological nightmare. Once you set foot on that boat you owe it to everyone around you to keep your doom and gloom on lockdown. You don’t have to overdo it and vow to become shuffleboard champion, just be there. Haven’t you ever been to a wedding that you thought was a horrible mistake? Of course you have because most of them are. So you know that you sit there and make a toast and drink the wine and go back to your hotel and pour out your reservations about the couple to the bartender there. Arg! I just remembered you have problems with alcohol! Forgive me.

Think on this. Love heals all. Your parents obviously love each other very much. With that love encircling them, they created a family of wonderful thoughtful people, yourself included, who know love and seek it in their own lives. This trip is to honor the love that you all share. If you leave on that boat with your family, you need to keep the kernel of this in your mind at all times. You are a very caring and sensitive person. Your parents had a hand in this. You can thank them for this by being there. Here’s a handy mantra: “I am here because of love. Love can heal the world.” If that is too soft for you, then just imagine that cruises are actually that painless global plague you were wishing for, and the good Lord has graced you with a close up view as he/she slowly wipes us out.

Whatever you decide, follow through with your decision and try to minimize your decision’s impact on others. I never do that. But you should.

Now, Becky, forgive me, I can’t help but think about what your life will be like after the cruise or non-cruise. See, you’re clearly not in a happy place. But you could be. I’m not suggesting you deny the sad reality out there but I am wondering if there’s any way you could make a major change. Is it possible for you to leave your life in Park Slope and go work for clean air and water? Many of us have kids and mortgages and the need for insurance but if you don’t, get out of town and live out our fantasies. Quit your job, give up your apartment and help with the effort to heal the horrific amount of damage that we’re doing to this beautiful world of ours. You’ll know more about the situation and be part of the solution. No doubt you’ll sleep better and your personality will be once again aligned with your adorable name. And nobody, not even your ignorant parents, would ever suggest that you go on a cruise ever again.

As far as the problem with no one listening to the cries of our planet, I’m closing this with a quote from David Abrams, philosopher, ecologist and performance artist. He was also the resident magician at Alice’s Restaurant back in the day. Wise man. Here are his thoughts on how to wake us up:

I don’t think there is a way for those who work in service to the earth — for environmentalists, ecologists — to really woo our culture back into a reciprocal or sustainable relation with the land until we draw folds back to our senses, because our sensing bodies are our direct contact with the rest of the natural world. It is not by being abstract intellects that we are going to fall in love again with the rest of nature. It’s by beginning to honor and value our direct sensory experience: the tastes and smells in the air, the feel of the wind as it caresses the skin, the feel of the ground under our feet as we walk upon it. And how much easier it is to feel that ground if you allow yourself to sense that the ground itself is feeling your steps as you walk upon it.
from The Spell of the Sensuous

Speaking of feeling, I’m feeling sick. My six-year-old coughed in my eye 31 hours ago and Voila! I’m achy, runny, stuffy, and crabby. So, I’m only answering one letter today. Why don’t you take it easy today, too? Go to the park and drink a lemonade under the prettiest tree you can find. Feel the earth under your tush. It’s definitely feeling you. See you next time.

Read more about the EPA report here:
water.epa.gov/polwaste/vwd/disch_assess.cfm

And about the reduced emission plan here:
www.mcclatchydc.com/2012/05/01/147291/cruise-ship-industry-fighting.html#storylink=cpy

Nesting Nirvana

June 27, 2012 By admin Filed Under: Dispatches From Babyville

I almost had a baby at Ikea. That sounds like it could be a metaphor so let me clarify that I am speaking literally. I almost went into labor and delivery while waiting to pay for stylish Swedish lighting fixtures in Red Hook. And it’s not because I didn’t know I was having labor pains.

It’s because I am such an Ikea junky I could not pull myself away. Also, it’s my third baby. These sorts of things tend to happen with your third.

How does a person transform from a savvy shopper with self-restraint to a conspicuous consumer panting through contractions behind a cart filled with faux bear-skin rugs? Well, when you think about it, how does one not?

It started when Ikea opened in Brooklyn. There was a time New Yorkers had to schlep over to Elizabeth, New Jersey to obtain aesthetically-pleasing yet affordable furniture and enjoy the best meatballs outside of Stockholm for under $4. With the nearest Ikea in New Jersey, the world retained a semblance of order and balance. And then, one fateful day, the furniture wonder-shop opened its doors in Red Hook, oh-so-tantalizingly close. Not only was there plentiful parking, there was a free shuttle bus from the Slope, a cafe with views serving kids’ meals for just $2.49, and even free child-care, so my children could frolic in the ball pit while I compared kitchen cabinet knobs. And then there were the cinnamon buns. Yes, the smell of those cinnamon buns was the final nail in the coffin of my willpower. Or, I should say, the penultimate one. What truly killed my willpower was getting pregnant again.

At the end of my third pregnancy, two things happened at exactly the same time. First, a relentless nesting craze took hold of me, compelling me to organize the “Hoarders” level clutter in our apartment. Secondly, with my due date approaching, I began to consider where I’d put the baby. And the stark realization dawned on me that there was, in fact, nowhere to put the baby. We would be a family of five living in a one-bedroom apartment: there wasn’t enough room for my son’s Lego collection, much less a whole new human being and her baby gear.

Moving to a bigger place would have been great but we didn’t have the money. There was, however, a cheap way to get more livable space, and guzzle Lingonberry juice in the process.

“You know I hate going to Ikea,” David said, when I announced the plan for our Extreme Home Makeover, a plan that relied heavily on the phrase “maximize vertical space!”

“It’s like Vegas in there,” David went on, “No clocks so you can’t tell how long you’ve been inside and no cellphone reception so you’re cut off from the outside world — from your loved ones who’d tell you to stop buying crap you don’t need.”

“But we do need this crap,” I persuaded him, “This crap is the lynchpin between us and a happy life!”

“See?” he countered, “You’re already going overboard. Which proves my point that Ikea turns you into a crazy person.”

“Daddy’s right,” piped up my seven year-old Primo, “You start grabbing everything and throwing it in the cart, even if we don’t need it. Like the foot pillow with holes in it to keep your feet warm. That was really unnecessary.”

“So I guess you don’t want to play in the ball pit and eat cinnamon buns,” I said casually.

Even the kids can’t resist that Swedish siren song. And that’s how we ended up at Ikea – the first time.

Though it was still before noon, Smaland was completely filled up. Let me assure you that Hell hath no fury like two children who’ve been turned away from Smaland and forced to shop for closet shelving units instead. Yes, our first Ikea trip could have been made into a piece of scared-straight propaganda to get young people to use birth control.

“This is the worst day of my life!” whined Primo as we tried to find someone – anyone- to answer a pressing question about Pax wardrobes, “Just buy something and get this awful ordeal over with!”

“You LIED TO ME!” shrieked five year-old Seconda, “You told me we could watch a MOVIE and play in the BIG SHOE! And now I have to GO SHOPPING which I HATE more than ANYTHING in the WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD!”

“Oh come on, this will be so fun!” I chirped, buzzed on the smell of unfinished wood, “We can pretend that we live in these beautiful model rooms! We can play family!”

“We already ARE a family,” Primo lamented, “And it is no fun at all.”

By the time we made it into the warehouse, the children were beating each other senseless, both of them crammed into one shopping cart. This public humiliation tipped the balance on my chronic morning sickness, which really pissed me off.

“You people are RUINING this trip to Ikea!” I shrieked, understanding, but not caring, that I’d become one of those archetypal screaming mothers found in Ikeas the world over, “Now I’m gonna vomit and I won’t even be able to enjoy the freaking meatballs!”

By the time we lugged the furniture into our house (well, David lugged the furniture. I watched, clutching my barf bag), my nerves were so frazzled, I resolved never to enter Ikea again. Of course, without a twelve-step program, I didn’t stand a chance. Because as soon as we erected the first two Trofast units and separated the kids’ toy collections into the red and green buckets, I felt such a flood of satisfaction, I could hardly contain myself.

“We need more of these,” I said breathlessly.

The next month, and the next, and the next, I was back trolling the aisles for home furnishings, searching for the magic piece that would somehow metamorphose my one bedroom into a townhouse (or at least a one-plus) and thus solve all our problems, eliminate sibling rivalry, and quite possibly end war and world hunger, too. The fact that I never found it didn’t deter me from continuing to look; in fact it only made me look harder, and buy lots of crap in the process. Buyer beware: if you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself trapped in a nasty Ikea cycle wherein you go to buy furniture to store your crap and by the time you leave, you’ve bought more crap to store and you’re right back where you started. Only poorer. And with less livable space.

“Well, that should do it,” I told David as I slammed the trunk down, having loaded just one more Trofast unit into the car. It was gestational week number 34 and Ikea trip number 10.

“You know how I know you’re lying?” David asked, “We’re at Ikea and your lips are moving.”

Like any great work of art, an apartment’s design is never finished, merely abandoned. And it became clear that I wouldn’t abandon this one until I was on my way to the hospital. Just three days shy of my due date, I somehow managed to convince David to go back to Ikea to solve the lighting deficiency in our living room. I don’t know why I say “somehow.” I know precisely how I did it; by promising him a conjugal visit in exchange for his labors, which offered the added benefit of jump-starting my labor.

“We can leave the kids with my grandmother so it will be almost like a date,” I persuaded him, “You know Ikea makes me amorous.”

Half an hour later, we were gliding into nesting nirvana on the escalator.

“What do you think about the name Stuva?” I asked David, “Am I crazy or is that kind of beautiful?”

“I think the fumes of this place are getting to you,” he replied, “To the extent that I’m worried about their effect on the fetus.”

By the time we reached the lighting area, I noticed something unusual was going on. The elated, out-of-body feeling I usually had while cruising through the model rooms was absent. I walked straight through the marketplace without so much as picking up a colander or box of votive candles. And there was also the fact that I was having contractions — big ones — every few minutes.

“Are you OK?” asked David when I bent over in the middle of the halogen lamps and started huffing and puffing.

“Just a little –“ I panted, “Con – trac – tion.”

He furrowed his brows: “Are you in labor?”

“Possibly,” I replied.

“Then maybe we should leave,” he suggested.

“No, no its OK,” I persuaded him, “The contraction’s over now. And I really want to get this lamp. We’re here already.”

A half hour later, David was dragging a large box to the register while I moaned behind the shopping cart.

“Are you trying to have the baby at Ikea?” David asked, “They don’t have epidurals here, you know.”

“Keep — going,” I panted, “We’re – almost – done.”

There were only three people ahead of us on line. And my water hadn’t even broken yet.

“Are you all right?” asked the cashier as she was ringing us up.

“Yeah,” I said, as a contraction subsided, “But if I do end up having a baby here, is there a deal where I win a free nursery or something like that?”

There is not, for the record.

I guess the baby knew that because she wasn’t born that day. The hot-and-heavy contractions subsided, then started up a day later, and kept on waxing and waning until the day after my due date when I finally managed to coax the little tadpole out.

She’s known in these parts as Terza but you can call her Stuva. And her tiny corner of our apartment is impeccably organized.

To read more of Nicole’s adventures in Mommyland (in and out of Ikea), visit her blog A Mom Amok at amomamok.blogspot.com.

Realities of Small Town Life

March 23, 2012 By admin Filed Under: The Afterlife

When we left New York City, I worried that culture might be hard to come by. Oh the luxury of having film festivals and museums, concerts and exhibitions on your door step! Not that we took full advantage at the time. Still, as Woody Allen says about ordering chinese food in the middle of the night in New York City, it was nice to know it was there.

We do have access to many of those things in the Finger Lakes but further away and on a smaller scale. Not impossible but more difficult, just the realities of small town life. That’s why the vibrancy of the music culture here came as such a shock.

The musicality of Geneva does not announce itself on billboards in the manner of the Lake Trout, who have chosen our town as their “World Capital.” At first glance, the music scene, the concerts and the musicals at the Smith Opera House, the Summer Arts Festival, Musical Moments at the public library and recitals at Hobart and William Smith seem much the same as in any other college town. I am not sure that Genevan’s themselves regard it as anything remarkable. And yet, the more time I spend here, the more I am convinced it is.

My first personal experience of this came in the form of a pale green folder sent home in my son’s backpack. At first I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. I flipped through page after page of childish hieroglyphics: primitive”n”s and “l”s carefully printed inside apple or heart shapes arranged in rows. It was only at the last sheet, the progress chart, that I realized they were not letters but symbols marking out a rhythm. Apparently my son is “working hard at developing the skills needed to be a musician.” A musician! O brave new world!

Now I realize this may seem like poignantly basic stuff to Very Musical People. But from the perspective those of us who experienced music in the public schools of the 70’s, it is nothing short of a miracle. Even in the days before fiscal vampires fell upon the music programs, sucked them dry, propped up their desiccated corpses and labeled them “enrichment”, the quality of music education has been patchy.

In many parts of the country it mainly consisted of singing songs like “Bingo” and The (dreaded) Happy Wanderer” while a teacher played upright piano or autoharp. Music class was a break from the real work, pleasant enough but not all that important.

Imagine then receiving a note home about the musical instrument “petting zoo” where third graders will have the opportunity to try all the instruments in the band to decide “which one they will play.” Not if they will play an instrument but which one.

My son’s music teacher, Sarah Humphrey laughed a little when I pointed out the wording. “I think there’s a place on the form where you can opt out” she said, (I couldn’t see it) “but most students do play something.”

Now I know there are many kids who learn to play instruments outside of school, and I haven’t exactly been channeling Amy Chua when it comes to facilitating this for my own children, but I am so very pleased to see the audacity of music education in our schools.

I’m not suggesting that the Geneva City School District is hothousing tomorrow’s musical talent, (though given the success of bands like a Gym Class Heroes and Ra Ra Riot it is tempting to make the case). It’s more that there is a certain ease and normality to music education here, as if it was an absolutely central part of the human experience, not something reserved for the talented or the driven. As if music was as fundamental as reading or writing. As if it was worth doing for its own sake, not to wire the children’s brains, to improve math scores or to make them better people.

Elementary school students attend classes twice a week and making music is a part of every school event. Each grade learns its own set of songs which they perform for the rest of the students. There’s a hand bell choir and most kids start playing an instrument in the 4th grade. The school also offers after hours piano lessons to children who wouldn’t be able to afford to take them otherwise.

Finally, they have the opportunity to listen to great music. Geneva Concerts, the organization responsible for booking most of the artists at the Smith Opera House makes sure all students see the performances for free.

Of course, as in most places, music education in Geneva has faced the chop now and then, but as Humphrey explains “We’ve been lucky to have so much support.” People wrote letters to the newspaper and fought to keep the music program intact.” So far they’ve been successful.

It’s quite an achievement. Here is a town of less than 20 thousand people who support a great concert series and a small music academy. Here is a school system where every kid learns the skills to be a musician and where they are trying hard to make sure that every child who wants to make music can.

The music in the schools reflects the deep regard for it in the city. It’s a culture that reaches far back into the past. It is as old as the Smith Opera House which has been hosting musical performances since 1894. It is as old as the grand homes on South Main street where residents staged Delightful Musicales for friends on warm summer evenings and as long lived as the Tuesday Piano Quartette (eight hands on two pianos) which has been going strong for more than 100 years.

Perhaps that’s why people here seem to take the importance of music for granted though not, the music itself. Perhaps that’s why when I asked a veteran father of four for his best piece of parenting advice a few years back he replied in all seriousness “It’s okay to start Suzuki at three.” Ah the realities of small town life!

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