Sunday Afternoon in Brooklyn

Sunday was a nice day, so I walked all the way through the Slope to my usual Sunday afternoon jam at the other end of the neighborhood, and back, picturephone within easy reach.

Knives Sharpened!
As a child, I quickly learned to distinguish the bell on this truck (a fire-alarm style bell, rung slowly, one gong every five or ten seconds) from the bell on the ice-cream truck (a series of little bells, jangled constantly by the Good Humor man).
Knives Sharpened!
Good Question!
Outside a bar on Fifth Avenue.
Good Question!
Bluegrass in the Murk
A terrible cell phone picture of the Ponkiesburg Pickin’ Party, at Jack’s on Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn. Note the banjo section on the left.
Bluegrass in the Murk
And to all a good night
Along Fifth Avenue.
And to all a good night

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7 Responses to Sunday Afternoon in Brooklyn

  1. They still have those knife-sharpening trucks!?
    Ding.

    Ding.

    Ding.
    That’s one of those things I remember that make me feel so quaint, like locally owned department stores, like I date practically from milk-man days. Actually we used to have a milk box though I am NOT old enough to remember milk delivery.

    Sometimes I think snail mail delivery might go that way. Doesn’t it seem awfully quaint that there is still a service that will bring you stuff right to your house 6 days a week, without you doing anything?

    • ken says:

      Yes, exactly! I was astonished they were still around. I’d almost forgotten them.

      We did not have a milk box, but my grandmother did. I think milk delivery disappeared before we showed up, but I do remember going to Weissglass Dairy to buy milk in glass quart bottles with the foil tops. Milk bottle tops, along with soda can pop tops and pencil sharpeners and slide rules and dial telephones, are going to be “everyday objects” that kids are probably already puzzling over.

      Snail mail seems to proliferate despite me doing things, like telling credit card companies I don’t want any more cards.

    • ken says:

      You know what else I’d completely forgotten from when I was a kid? In a movie set in the 60s I saw over the weekend, they show a construction site, with those black balls of burning tar or oil (?) they used as markers. I haven’t thought of those in years.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Knives sharpened

    Don’t you marvel that enough people still do their own yard work, are moderately serious home sewers who need very sharp scissors, or own quality knives which can be sharpened to make such a business profitable, especially with gasoline at $2+ a gallon!

    Not to worry about snail mail’s going extinct, not as long as mail-order catalog companies exist. Just order one little item from a catalog, and you’re guaranteed a 50-catalog weekly deluge in the following season and forever multiplying.

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