Thursday, February 27, 2014

and the winner is.....



......the drawbridges on the Hutchinson River and Pelham Parkway’s which cross the Hutchinson River ("Eastchester Bay") in the Bronx.  

To begin, the bridges are widely hated by commuters who drive these roads. Most of the results of my Internet research resulted in foursquare posts and flicker pictures regarding being stuck in traffic because "the f@*#! bridge is up!” The bridges appear to go up as needed, on no particular schedule; for example: during prime rush hour traffic on Monday mornings.  

While I cannot find much or any information about the types of marine traffic that these drawbridges accommodate, I was able to locate the history of the bridges themselves.  Let's just assume that barges of garbage from Co-Op City and boats going to and from City Island are passing through.  There are still operational port businesses running along the banks of the Hutchinson River. These appear to be fuel corporations and asphalt plants. 

The Hutchinson River Parkway construction began in 1924. At the time the Parkway was only in Westchester (Pelham Area). Construction of the roads extended to White Plains by 1928.  In 1937, the roads were being extended into the Bronx south, ending in 1941 by the Whitestone Bridge.   It was at this time; in 1941, The Hutchinson River Parkway Bridge (HRPB) was opened to traffic.   

The bridge is a double leaf bascule type bridge, which means it opens upwards on both sides to allow boats and barges to pass below.  It is 670 feet long and 160 feet wide.  There is one walkway on the North Bound side.  

Much like the HRPW, the Pelham Bay Bridge (which runs off of Pelham Parkway passing Pelham Bay Park towards Shore Road and the roundabout for City Island, Orchard Beach, etc.) is the same style of bridge. It too has only one pedestrian walkway, but is slightly longer at 891 feet long. However, this bridge was already up and running in 1908, 33 years prior to the HRPB. This bridge is actually not the first, or second, or even third bridge to stand at this location.  The first was destroyed by a storm on April 12th, 1816.  A new bridge was not on site until 18 years later.  An iron bridge was erected in 1871 and the bridge presently there was opened October 15th, 1908.  

Lastly, There is also a bascule drawbridge for the Amtrak train line in the same area, for passenger trains to and from from Penn Station. 


"Completed in 1907, Pelham Bay Bridge has reached the end of its useful life and requires extensive ongoing maintenance. Its obsolete and aging components have forced Amtrak to restrict speeds to just 45 mph. The bridge has a lift span that is manned by a bridge operator. It opens several times per day for commercial boats and occasionally faces minor problems closing properly." http://www.nec-commission.com ).


If you thought this was boring, some fun filled facts....

-The River (and Parkway) is named for Anne Hutchinson, the religious revolutionist,  who came from Rhode Island in 1642 and settled on Pelham-Neck to the east of the river, across from where Co-Op City is now. She was murdered by a group of Indians the following year.  The Bronx don't play.  

-Once upon a time there was a  .25 cent toll located between exists 7 & 8 of the Hutch (Pelham), which were removed in 1994 - conveniently when I was at the peak of spending most of my nights in Westchester County.   Before the tolls were removed, we frequently took the Bronx River to and from Westchester. 


-It has been cited that Robert Moses deliberately made the bridges low on the Hutch and other parkways to stop buses carrying lower classes of people outside of New York City.  This is probably true, because my research has indicated Moses was a genius and an asset, he sure loved destroying lower income neighborhoods to build the much needed highways.
   



Additional Interesting Reading on the Area and Topic:


Friday, April 20, 2012

how i accidentally watched science fiction and liked it

wow. not a fan of change and blogger has changed.  well it would help if i blogged more than twice a year.

ANYWAY....

my husband loves things like fucking harry potter, lord of the rings and such....i think they call this genre 'fantasy".  He also loves science fiction ...like stargate, star wars, star trek and.....

battlestar gallactica.


Basically , I have been making fun of him (and countless others )for years.  I have been quoted as saying "lord of the rings is a nice movie", meanwhile it is a cinematic miracle.  I think Harry Potter is "cute" and  most science fiction is completely unbelievable. Um,  I think it's supposed to be.

I like drama. I like comedy.  I like irony.  I like paradox. Satire.  Things I enjoy have to feel human.  Mostly like they could actually happen. 

One evening, in a fit of frequent insomnia, I decided to pay attention to the DVD he put on.  We cancelled cable months ago to save money, so anything we watch in our bedroom has to be on DVD. Thankfully he did not put on anything involving swords and horses but insteead he put on the first season of Battlestar Gallactica with commentary.  I watched it. Because I couldn't sleep.  He was out cold in 4 minutes.  And I kept watching.  And kept watching. 

The next day I decided it would be a good show to watch at night before bed.  I had been re-watching my box set of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" to death and honestly I think it was starting to make me a truly awful human being (and that's ok).  But what I did not realize is that It's Always Sunny would simply soothe me off to sleep ..... Battlestar would become an obsession. and a mission. that would last two months.

4.5 seasons.  75 episodes.  of manic depressive torture.


i don't know if you have seen the show, and if you want to, don't read anymore of this blog,
 but as much as I needed to watch it, it was depressing the shit out of me.  BS is the story of a fleet of ships in space after all civilization outside of them has been destroyed due to an unexpected attack by Cylons (robots, aircraft and sometimes robot people, that humans created...).  They are searching for a new planet to live on while fighting a war against the Cylons; who outnumber them greatly and have much more advanced technology and abilities.

And wait it gets worse.  Cylons....they also live amongst the civilians....but ya can't tell because they look like humans.  I mean, sometimes, you suspect it but really there is no way to know, until of course they shoot you in the stomach suddenly....then you start to realize it.  Oh and wait the Cylons....sometimes THEY don't even know they are cylons until suddenly something triggers them.  So, they think they are human and then BAM....they are committing acts of terror and hearing Jimi Hendrix songs in the walls.

Humans and Cylons sometimes fall in love.  Sometimes they have a baby. That baby is super special ...because both the Cylons and humans want to preserve an ever dwindling race. 

Lots of people hallucinate things.  Either because they are angels, or because they are on drugs for fatal diseases....or because they haven't slept in weeks cos they are dealing with a tremendous amount of bullshit.  Like flying around in space, running out of food and other resources...searching for Earth , only to find Earth and realize that it was destroyed a ka-billion years ago in a similar fashion as their planets were.

I forgot to mention that pretty much everyone is a selfish asshole too, and it;s a miracle they lasted as long as they did to begin with. 

So, I became addicted to and completed this series over a few months - because I have a full time job and a child to watch.  I got to a point where I said please I just want this miserable shit to be over with already so I can get back to my life and normal bedtime again. 

All in all, I am pretty happy I watched it.  I am sure my husband is pleased too, because his wife who would never even stay in the room for 5 minutes when anything like this is on screen, became fanatically involved.  I did not learn much of anything from it at all, and aside from a new found paranoia that we will destroy humanity repeatedly, I walked away relatively unscathed.

Last night I watched "Match Point" (Woody Allen) to try and get back to my drama roots. It just wasn't the same. Every one was human and no one could fly a viper.   I don't actually think I am sold now as a sci-fi fan because I have zero interest in watching ANYTHING like this for a long while. 


Unless the new BS Series Blood and Chrome actually does get released.....

Jesus, next thing I know I will be at Comic Con.

After the 2 part episde of "BattleStar Gallactica: Razor"  I am going to watch It's Always Sunny and get my life back on track.

http://www.ifc.com/portlandia/videos/portlandia-battlestar-galactica


Friday, September 30, 2011

days off are seriously over-rated.

so as some of you know I am now employed at a school. a Jewish school.  So I was off from work for two whole random weekdays.  Oh the joys.  I can finally do my framing, empty boxes (from March), order photographs, eat pizza and lay half naked on the couch.  Get my nails done. Shop in peace.

and then the cabinet people for our kitchen called.  Said they wanted to do the install on ...you guessed it!....  Sept 29th and 30th.  Well, since I have  been living sans kitchen for like 6 months I decided not to kick a gift horse in the mouth.  I should have kicked the gift horse as hard as I could.

let me preface this by saying the installers are sweet and professional.  the people we ordered the cabinets from are Neanderthals.


yesterday they showed up on time.  Started the install.  Claimed the beams were laid out wrong.  My husband laid the beams and we went over them last night and they are all evenly spaced.  This made it take longer to do the install.  Measurements did not line up TWICE.  This made the job take longer. They also grossly damaged my kitchen floor, again, I was super cool.   So last night they left and all that was left to do was install the crown molding, the kick plates and the handles.  I figure, this will all be done by 2 pm at latest. And then I can go out.

so they came late.  around 11 am.  Now I am agitated.  Mostly because although I am not doing any house work, I am answering questions.   I am trapped in my office space typing a blog.  Today it was determined they sent the wrong crown moldings, in the wrong size....and they are piecing them together. in my humble opinion, they look like shit.   I was just informed , on top of this, they do not have enough to finish the job and will have to come back a third day.  I cant be here a third day.  And since I or my husband have to sign off, this is all turning into a steaming pile of poo. Additionally, they were going to fix my floor, but now we have no time for that.  So instead of being nice I may have to mention all this BULLSHIT to the major company that was hired to do this job.

So it is 3:12 pm.  They are still working.  I have to have this house in order for a meddling 2 year old in about two hours.  it's loud and smells like sawdust and my smoke alarms keep going off.

and as i sit here and i type, i realize how I became a workaholic in the first place.  days off are seriously over-rated.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

charmed life

i have too much to say i guess for just a facebook status.  this time of year makes me so anxious, i am almost feral.  foaming-at-the-mouth-tense.  it starts mid-august and ends around the end of September. maybe it is my late friend denise's birthday, or lack there of.  maybe it is left over anxiety from being a child and having end of summer blues.  I still get excited as the summer approaches the way i did because I feel in my heart forever that school is out soon (although i will work regardless).

on the 10th year anniversary of September 11th, i feel like i should feel something more or something different then i have felt for the past ten years and i cannot put my finger on anything i feel, better or worse, that is really any different.  I suppose i reflect the same way everyone else does.  thinking about where they were that day.  i was on my way to world trade center, to obtain the new tori amos single for strange little girls, because it was new release Tuesday. i had located a sam goody at the trade center a week prior.  my train slowed down quite a bit after 14th street, and i realized i couldn't make it down in time, so i exited at Canal street to walk to my office.

my cd Walkman ear buds....everyone always said a bomb could go off and i would not hear it. as usual ,  i was listening to bjork.  the sky was so BLUE.  so beautiful.  I stared at it as I exited the train stairs and I too thought, what a beautiful day.  The evening before, before it rained, on my walk home from my train  I had stopped and stared at the lights of co-op city from afar...thinking the same thing....what a beautiful night.

i walked up Canal towards Broadway and was immediately befuddled by the large number of business people that far up at that close to nine am.  I realized everyone was staring south.  I kept moving.  As I approached the intersection of Canal and Broadway, I saw the smoke.  i still passed it all off as a fire, and continued to get my breakfast.  Medium coffee, dark two sugars, Cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese off the roach coach.

I took my ear buds out to order.

I hear the voices all around me, I had just missed the second plane hitting and everyone knew now what was happening.  In the three minutes I walked around the corner, it had officially gone from accident to what we all now know happened.  I remember feeling like I was drowning, like I could not ingest the information fast enough to breath and move.  My friend and my coworker Evelyn took the train through WTC every morning.  I grabbed by food and bolted up the stairs panicked.

She was in the office already.  She was laying down.  She was screaming and  crying and she was hurt.  She had fallen running.  She had seen more that morning then anyone should ever have to see.  But she was ok and in my sight so I could move forward with the next tasks at hand.

My boss was headed to DC for a meeting, co-workers in Philadelphia. I couldnt reach anyone.   Someone from my office announced "we are under attack."  The news was coming so fast - and every time me and my co-workers looked south things were getting worse.  We made phone calls.  I spoke to my boyfriend at the time online.  His father worked at WTC.  He was believed to not be there when the event happened but no one could locate him.  I called my family.  They asked me to come home.

Then the Internet died.  Then the phones.  Then the cell phones.

We discussed a plan of action.  One of us lived in Brooklyn, one Manhattan, Eve and I in the Bronx.  We listened to the news.   We all sat and I smoked right there in the office  which no one cared about.   It was then that the news radio said it appeared the first of the two towers was collapsing.  We all turned to look out the window.

It looked like paper.  Just millions and millions pieces of paper - fell towards us.  It did not look like a building exploded or collapsed.  But gently avalanched down.  A gigantic crest of paper swooping in all directions.  And then there was just the smoke.  The dust.  the Silence.

I decided things would only be getting worse and I advised everyone to make there way to safety away from our office.  As we exiting the building, men in black were coming in.  They were on rooftops everywhere.  Evelyn and I began our walk North.  To get from Canal Street to Grand Central where we had heard trains were eventually going to run.   We walked fast at first, but everything was exhausting.  This quiet parade of people in shock.  I smoked. I drank a can of coke which I held onto like a security blanket.  We watched fighter planes pass above us, shuddering in their shadows.  We saw city buses filled with military men and women, wishing they could just take us home.

I dont know how long we walked.  I know right before we got to grand central station we saw a billboard for citibank that read

"your most vulnerable moment will not be spent behind your desk".

We entered grand central and learned the LAST  metro north was leaving for the immediate future.  We ran down the stairs, and managed to get into the train.  We couldn't believe we made it.  For once, no one was rude, or uncomfortable by how packed it was.



I made it home that day.  At some point.  Only to find out the rest of what had happened, and my boyfriend's father was still missing.   He would go on missing. and has never been found.  He was supposed to be at an outside meeting, but went to the office to get something.  He died in an elevator car with several other people ,after it free-fell and crashed, but he did not die from the impact of the fall,  from what people who survived by squeezing out of the car say....this is where he stayed behind while they left to get help. The building collapsed as they were exiting and sending help his way.

Evelyn and I never discussed this in advance but we both threw away the clothes we wore that day.  She wore a flower dress and construction boots.  I wore a tee shirt, and faded grey jeans.  And my plaid converse.  We threw them away.   Both of us.

For days, I had the sound of sirens stuck in my head when I closed my eyes to sleep.  It was like tinnitus, but sirens.  This is when I started my awful habit of always sleeping with a radio or TV on.

I don't know what I learned from all of this.  I eventually came to learn we were never safe at all, and our number was up.  Realizing all the years of my life, that at any time this could have happened, helped me cope.  I was scared like everyone else in the weeks and months and years to follow. I asked my close friends to at least not let the media to make me out to be some brilliant, book loving, good Samaritan girl and use my graduation picture on the cover of the newspaper if it ever did happen.

The only thing I have learned, is how much I really did love my life before.   Before the check points, the armed military at my train stations, the terror of seeing white powder anywhere, or smelling any strange smell in a subway, which pretty much is impossible. How i could take an elevator and not hyperventilate.   To carry a backpack and not be subject to searches.   To just walk through Manhattan and not feel like the whole world might just fall on you at any moment.   To not have witnessed and lived through and dealt with quite  intimately with my boyfriend and his family and the loss - a tremendous one -  all the while it being an event that changed the way the world spins for years and years to come (and still to come).   To not completely collapse in fear when the black out came in 2003.  To drive across a bridge, and not panic when you hit traffic.  When my daughter yells..."Look Mommy, an airplane!" ...I want to respond enthusiastically "Yes, IT IS!".  I cannot.  I usually say nothing at all.  I see something different when I look to the sky.  Every single day.

I had thought that I stopped loving NYC when my friend was murdered there, in the place we had both loved and enjoyed so much,  but that was not the case at all. Matter of fact, I really had maybe just started to feel alive again when the attack happened.   I just know, my new york is gone now, for so many reasons, physical and mental.  Stores have closed up.  Clubs have closed up.  I think that all the people, who were really free, just like I was free,  re-treated that day,  enough to leave the city to complete change.

I still have fun.  But my years of fearless abandon ended with this.  So if I learned anything, it is that freedom is a state of mind for me more than anything.  Freedom to me is having nothing to fear, Nothing to mind out of the corner of my eye.  At least nothing like being blown to smithereens at a concert. I was always street smart, but terrorist smart - that's a stretch.

I don't mind having to have my background checked to fly. That is not my freedom.  I don't mind my computer being monitored or what books I take out of the library.  That is not my freedom.  My freedom was in my heart. It was the innocence and aloofness (or what was left of it)  I felt before September 11th 2011.  The girl walking blindly to work with her headphones on so loud, a half asleep skip in her step, wanting her coffee, not looking over her shoulder, who quite literally could not hear a bomb explode.  This was my life at it's charmed best.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

new house

we finished most of the house months ago but who knew i wouldnt have time to blog with a toddler, a full time job, a busy social life and citiville on my hands?

attached are some photos of the finished progress.


mia before
mia after

bath before
bath after





living room before
living room after

hurricane

that was pretty much a lot less than i expected.


Sunday, September 12, 2010

coming along

some progress has been made at the house that anthony re-built.

-bathroom floor redone
-dryer vented !
-90% plumbing done
-99% electrical done
-drywall/sheetrock started today!


we still have several delays so we wont be moving until october.  here are some photos:


old ugly kitchen floor found under newer floor

new bathroom floor
dumpster
stairs that anthony found under floor in 2nd bath

anthony rebulit the floor same area