Feb 12 - State of the Borough Address shoot

It was that night of the year when Marty Markowitz delivers his State of the Borough Address, which meant BCAT would be there to cover it. This time it was held at Kingsborough Community College down in Brighton Beach, which i was sincerely happy to visit. I've always enjoyed shooting down there, and visits there are sparse. The usual suspects were present, give or take a few--Letitia James, David Yassky, Christine Quinn, Marty of course with his wife, and a bunch of other elected officials and distinguished Brooklynites aka wealthy folk.

The whole event lasted about 2-3 hours. There was opening entertainment and then Marty gave his 63 page speech which highlighted the doings and remarkable work of some key Brooklynites who he managed to have on stage with him. After the address, Brian Vines, a BCAT reporter and i went across the way to visit the reception, where there was catered food and alcohol for all the guests. I got some standard reception shots of people picking food off the trays, roundtables where people either mug for the camera or put on their most stern faces to signal they don't want to be shot and that i'm their least favorite person in the whole, entire world at that very moment. I always think to myself, "Yeah, but i don't want to shoot you either, I'm only sticking this camera in your face because my boss wants me to..."

After the night ended, all the equipment--cameras, cables, and other AV miscellany were brought back to the BCAT truck which was parked outside. The Executive Producer--the head of BCAT, offered to give me a ride back to the station along with a few others, including Brian Vines. I accepted.

The ride back was interesting. It occured to me that since i started working for MLB.com, i was out of the social loop at BCAT. The style of communication, the focus of subject matter in conversation, and really the entire social dynamic is quite different. I'd say it's more political because we work directly for the Borough President. But in some ways, the MLB.com gig is more political, just on a more micro level.

Without going into detailed analysis on how the two workplaces differ politically, i would just leave it with, i feel homeless and without a family. This wasn't always the case, but it does seem to be what my story is all about. Or maybe i just feel this way because it's February.

Feb 10 morning train

In 12 years of living in NYC, to my recollection limited as it may be, i have not seen a bum on a train or on the street or sidewalk, or anywhere with bugs visibly crawling on them. Last night was the first time for such a sighting. This morning was 'maggot train part 2'. Another vagrant rider with his energy removed from his chassis similar to the guy last night--just enough fuel in him to nonchalantly brush the 'sourdough crumbs' off his lap. i don't want to come off sounding faint of dirt, but what's going on in this town?

Feb 9 shoot

Tonight we grabbed the 1 train heading from Nevins stop in Brooklyn to a Green For Good party in Tribeca--tasteful, friendly and socially responsible types and not short on easy-on-the- eye-female kind. I was proud of myself for keeping my eyes in their sockets the entire evening.

En route to the fine party, a man on the train sat hunched forward. He emitted faint rank, and the lovely Maria and i automatically put some distance between us and him when choosing a seat. After we pulled into the next station, a man sat down between me and the homeless looking man and i had reason to look over now at him as he rocked easy, forward and backward in his pigpen-like cloud of stench. It was then that i noticed the crust on the back of his winter coat which resembled sourdough toast crumbs, however these crumbs weren't stationary--they were very slowly moving. I squinted to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I cautioned to the clean and groomed business type-man who sat between us, "I think that guy has bugs on his back...but maybe I'm just seeing things." Then I turned my attention to Maria and she and I resumed our whatever-conversation. As the train pulled into the next station, the clean man stood up and changed seats as he confirmed my suspicion. Hours later, i still itch.