Gunner for life!
With no Gunner by his side
The little boy just cried and cried
My, oh my, Van Persie
No one to pass the dutchie
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Note: To be read while playing “Pass the Dutchie”, of course on the left hand side, by Musical Youth. LOL.
In a normally pristine neighborhood of Queens crews were busy removing evidence of a 100 MPH storm that ripped through the city of New York in the evening rush hour two days ago leaving at least one person dead, and damages to property that are still to be assessed by the Insurance Information Institute.
In the aftermath of the storm, some twenty-seven thousand customers of Con Ed customers in Queens were left without electricity for several hours.
The City Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe estimates more than 1,000 trees were destroyed and many more were damaged.
As of 8 AM the streets in Forest Hills have still not been cleared of trees and debris from damaged buildings. Technicians from Verizon was also busy repairing damaged telephone lines.
Francis Anthony Govia
People were walking briskly along Queens Boulevard, a busy throughway in Forest Hills, making their way to escape a possible downpour of rain. Cars were moving steadily forward in the evening rush hour. A minute later, the area became a swirling mass of a misty 100 MPH winds, rain, cracking thunder, and lightning.
At approximately 5:20 PM, the storm tore through everything in the vicinity of Yellowstone Boulevard uprooting huge trees from the earth and casting their massive branches across the streets. It overturned cars, made some abandoned by drivers, smashed windows, carried dumpsters laden with trash more than fifty feet away, and blew down walls at the 112th Police Precinct and Parker Towers. When people dared to walk the streets a few minutes later their faces reflected the magnitude of the destruction.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” A young lady addressed on-lookers. “Only on TV,” was the reply.
Jenny Lebowski was at the Queens Public library just before the storm hit. “I barely made it home, “she said. “I thought it was going to rain so I ran part of the way home.”
“I got inside my apartment and the dogs started to howl. Two minutes later the storm shook the building, and black smut came through the vents and into the kitchen. I closed the windows and pulled down the blinds. My neighbors’ windows were blown out. Chairs and rails were scattered everywhere”
“I’m going to have to clean the entire kitchen again to get rid of whatever it is that came inside.”
Outside Jenny’s residence on Gerard Place two large trees leaned on their side disturbing what was previously a well manicured garden. The bus stop was destroyed. The Chevrolet dealership up the street had a few of its windows blown out, and many of the cars it had on display were damaged.
Near Rabbi Bokser Square, a park where seniors often gathered to play chess under the shade of foliage planted several years ago, and where young lovers often held hands in the evening on inviting benches, the trunks of trees stood like points to the sky without branches. It is as if a massive herbivore had eaten the tops off much of what was beautiful about Forest Hills.
Our Lady Queen of Martyrs
One evening an old man lost control of his car and smashed into the hedges around the Temple, breaking the trunk and branches from the roots. The remains of the damage stayed on the earth for about a month before they were cleared away by mysterious hands.
Austin Street
About a block from Gerard Place is Austin Street. On most days, there the commerce is so brisk; it is difficult to find a place to park a car. People gather at the restaurants and shops. The deep pockets need not make a sacrifice.
John Park
After yesterday, I realize that a substantial part of America’s population is tone deaf. Haeley Vaughn was sent home and she deserved to go. Haeley was an early favorite of mine, but she is at her best when she has a guitar in her hand and that infectious smile on her face. She allowed that cynical bastard Simon Cowell to get into her head, did a terrible version of Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb”, and the people were unforgiving.
Michelle Delamor was sent home and she should not. The girl can sing. She looks good and she did a better job with Creed’s “With Arms Wide Open” than Didi Benami did with Bill Withers’ “Lean On Me”.
Didi was another early favorite of mine but she was plain ordinary this week. The voters obviously felt that the mascot-turned cheerleader with the folksy appeal was better than the girl with a body that will not end up at Jenny Craig anytime soon. You know them jealous Michelle.
Now can someone please explain to me why guys with voices as good as John Park or Jermaine Sellers end up going home while the Karaoke singer remains? And please don’t tell me it is because the Karaoke singer is cute. Unless you are a complete bigot, John is handsome and with an added bonus; he has presence.
PIF Stars
By Francis Anthony Govia
It is not every genre of music a person will like or understand, but true lovers of music let the music speak for itself, and consumers engender the demand for the product. Recently I hit the streets to find out what was out there and ran into Pif Stars pushing their album “Strictly Bout My Cash”. The two guys behind the “Stars” were standing outside a Starbucks on the corner of Jarolem and Court Street in Brooklyn, New York. These guys were young, ebullient and confident, the type of guys that you enjoy talking to at a first greeting. I purchased the music, and decided to give the disc a whirl.
The album lists 18 songs, but the first four could be combined into one song. The album has more than its fair share of invectives, and is clearly geared to those who love gangster rap even though one of the songs is entitled, “These Niggas Aint Gansta”. I was reminded by a friend that if we performed these songs in some countries we would be put in jail. I shot back that a time ago, I would be slapped about the face by my aunt for using some words being thrown about on the album. Now, for some people at least, these words fall in the artist domain.
PIF Stars
After a while, the featured artist, Lazy Z settled down into caring about the beat, and spitting out the lyrics. Things get better with the beat, but not much better when it comes to calling women offensive names, and cursing the punks that want to mess with the Stars. As you may guess, “Strictly Bout My Cash” is all about guys who make their living off the street – guys with egos bigger than Rush Limbaugh, and the women they disrespect, intermixed with swagga about violence. The best songs on the album are “Swagga Right,” “Freestyle”, “Gettn Doe”, “Top Draft Picks” and “Pif Stars Interview”.
I had my share of apprehension about an artist with a name like Lazy K cutting it in the business but I decided to give Pif Stars a call to set up an interview. The telephone number on the album lead me to a sleepy sounding message from a guy who claimed to have lost his phone and referred me to another telephone number. Unfazed I called the second number, and after a few tries got an equally sleepy sounding live person on the line who said that he would call me back when he woke up. I never heard from second Mr. Sleepy. Nevermind, Pif Stars may still be worth your while to give a listen, even though I am willing to bet they will not impress your Grandmother. You can hear songs on “Strictly Bout My Cash” here, or see the video promotion here. PIF means Paid In Full.
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Orf the Street is a column dedicated to those who make a living off the street. We hope that you have success pursuing your dreams, and all that is good soon rise to the top.
Creature
By Francis Anthony Govia
It was a lazy afternoon when I ran into Creature. Two hours earlier I had met a colleague from a previous job for lunch at Pound & Pence. We washed down burgers and French fries with bottles of beer before saying our goodbyes on Broadway, and I wandered off to J&R, the electronic store near City Hall. The 42 inch Panasonic plasma TV I had purchased about six months ago was now 899, or two hundred dollars less than before. I reminded myself that six years ago, it would have probably cost me ten grand. I was playing with these thoughts in my mind when out of the corner of my eye I connected with his, and he pressed the CD into my hand. My mood became increasingly better. Was it free? As quickly as the thought entered my mind it was dispelled. Creature shrewdly cut off my escape, forcing me gently into a conversation with him.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Why?” I replied, acknowledging in my mind for the first time that the CD was for sale.
“Because people always have something interesting to say about where they are from,” he said.
“I was born in the Caribbean in a place called St. Kitts and Nevis. Do you know where that is?” I said, waiting to see some form of acknowledgement in his eyes, and seeing none, I continued. “It’s near the US Virgin Islands. And here is a piece of American history for you. Not all of the Founding Fathers were Europeans. Alexander Hamilton was born in St. Kitts and Nevis before he came here and devised our banking system.”
“So he sold out to the establishment,” said Creature.
”Not really,” I said, feeling a sense of justice rising within me. “The Founding Fathers were Statesmen. They really cared about the country. Not like today where politician care about their careers. But enough of that. Where are you from?”
“You ever heard about Cleveland, Ohio?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling another story about to develop.
“That’s not where I’m from,” said Creature, smiling amiably at me. “”I’m from New York. Born and raised in New York.”
“Tell me about the CD,” I said, smiling back at him.
“It’s independent music. You’re gonna like it.”
“What is it selling for?”
“15.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you 10,” I said, handing over a twenty dollar bill, and watching Creature make change while the flow of New York’s traffic passed inconspicuously around us.
“Take a look at this,” he said, whipping a book from out of nowhere. I glanced at the cover of the book. The Underdog’s Manifesto: A Guerilla Artist’s Path to Independence.
I turned over the book and quickly perused a few lines on the back.
“Who is the guy who attended GWU law?” I asked. Is that you?”
“No. It’s a brother much smarter than me,” Creature responded. “Are you a Counselor, Sir?”
“I used to work for a law firm up to a few months ago,” I said. “But I resigned. Why are you asking?”
“Because usually when a person quickly observes something, the first thing that they refer to and that person are usually connected,” said Creature.
“That was in another life,” I said. “I like you. I’ll take the book. How much is it?”
“It’s 12, but I don’t have change so I’ll take 10.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him.
“What is your name, Sir?”
“Francis.”
“Mine is Creature,” he said, looking me in the eye.
“See you again,” I said, turning away to catch the train to Brooklyn Heights.
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Samples of Hustle to be Free can be heard at Amie St. or Tradebit.The Underdog’s Manifesto is available at Outside the Box Publishing. More about Creature can be discovered at Coffee Grind Media.“Orf the Street” is a column dedicated to those who make a living off the street.
