i'm on webster ave. have managed to track down the old music store where i used to rent my trombone. bronen's used to be near Fordham but they've moved a few times. Bronens (since 1915) is boarded up. On the corner to my left, standing in front of a bodega are six teenagers - black - wearing white tee-shirts and white rags on their heads.
I'm sitting in my sister's black toyota. As I step from the car wtih the m3 around my neck I see them sizing me up. Not out of corners of eyes - but straight glare. Straight glare means - what the f--k am I doin' here.
I don't care and don't return the stare. The cat spit up hairballs at 3 a.m. and kept me up for hours - so I'm just as irritable as they seem to be.
As camera comes to my eye to photograph the old store, two teenagers approach from both sides and they're on cells. I swear they're talkin' to each other.
I would like to be able to explain that I don't care about them - I'm just an old white guy that's come over to photograph the place where he rented instruments as a kid. It brings back memories of my mother. My mother was a real musician - piano and later cello. I used to go with her to pick up the cello.
One of the teenagers stops in front of me and says in a friendly way: just don't take pictures of us.
Me: Oh, no problem. I'm just photographing the music store.
Him: Music store?? Man that place been shut for years. It's a real shame. I used to get my horn there.
Me: I used to play the trombone when I was a kid --
Him: Oh, man - the trombone! That sucks!
Me: I hated it. I always wanted to play the trumpet. I used to live around here, y'know. Up on University.
Him: Man - musta been a long time ago.
Me: Yeah, like 45 years!
Him: Cool. Listen - just watch yourself around here - lot's of shit goin' on.
Me: Thanks. I'll be out of here in a second or so.
Him: OK. Too bad about Bronen's. I used to like that place a lot.
3 comments:
I'm sure that if it had been me, I would have been mugged, and the Toyota long gone.
On the other hand, if I happened to stumble on an operating still in the woods of my native Tennessee, we'd make pleasant conversation as I passed through, with the understanding that nothing would be said to the wrong people. You, on the other hand, would never be heard from again.
Pretty cool how a common interest in music defused a potentially dangerous situation. You never know when or how you'll make a connection that will overcome barriers of distrust and suspicion.
About 20 years ago, my husband and I worked for a charitable organization in a large inner city area. Our jobs required us to visit people in several tough projects where even the police feared to tread. Once folks in the neighborhoods got to know us and realized that we were honestly helping people, they took care of us. Guys who were ordinarly hoodlums, muggers and God-knows-what-else guarded our car for us (we only had our antenna stolen once in 2 years and never had any other damage or loss). Members of gangs frequently escorted us through their various turfs and made sure that we got safely to and from our destinations. Who woulda thought stuff like that would happen?
Interesting stuff! I stumbled across your website looking for my family's store Bronen's music. I live far away from NY and haven't been to the store since a small little tiny child, but they are still in business! Bronen's music store
-Aaron, great grandson of Benjamin Bronen
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