Scrappy Night in Red Hook

I stood at the corner of 9th Street and Fourth Avenue, checked my phone and made a decision.

“I can walk this,” I said aloud.

I had been waiting for a bus that would take me from Park Slope down to Red Hook.

But there was no sign of one and I didn’t want to be late for an event being held down by docks, so I elected to hoof it.

This was on Friday night and I was getting out of my comfort zone routine of Dr. Praeger's veggie burgers and Netflix.

I prefer to lay low at the end of the work week, but I’ve been looking to shake things up a little and scrubbing my regularly scheduled hibernation seemed like a good start.

I was attending the Scrappy Reading Series, which was being held at Compere Collective on Van Brunt Street, the kickoff for Red Hook Open Studies, where local artists’ studios and workspaces open to visitors for the entire weekend.

“Celebrate all that it is to be scrappy with some of the finest locals on the planet,” the event’s organizers said in an online notice.

Red Hook was once home to dockworkers and other working-class people, but it now has a thriving arts community.

Al Capone—yeah, that Al Capone, and Crazy Joey Gallo were both born in Red Hook and the actor Michael Shannon reportedly resides in the neighborhood.

I was going out with my family on Saturday, so the reading was my only option.

The evening promised fine writers and free food. Now all I had to do was get there…

I live right near a ferry landing and my original plan was to sail down to the Red Hook landing, which was a short walk from the reading’s location.

It’s a very convenient and pleasant way to travel.

However, I found that the ferry skips Red Hook at night for some reason and goes down to Atlantic Avenue, which was too far from where I wanted to be.

And here I encountered my first urge to stay home and settle for the Netflix veggie burger option. The train-bus ride takes too long, I whined to my laptop. And it’s dangerous.

Step it Up

I didn’t like the sound of the excuses, so I reminded myself that the ferry is a fairly recent offering, and I have been taking the subway for most of my life. Now get your ass out the door.

The walk down to Van Brunt Street was longer than I had anticipated, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle, at least physically.

However, I had to walk through an area that seemed a bit…scrappy and I doubt even Al Capone would've been comfortable here.

As the quality of the neighborhood continued to deteriorate with each step, I vowed to take the bus back to Ninth Street.

I’m all in favor of getting in those 10,000 daily steps but I’d rather not do it running for my life.

At one point I spotted a postal worker heading toward his truck, so I asked him directions, but he claimed not to know the area. Sounds like some First Class crap to me, but I didn’t want to argue.

I finally reached my destination and walked into a nearly empty room. I thought I might be part of a very small audience, but I was okay with it. I had gotten out of the house.

I received a warm greeting, delicious eats and a free book from a nearby Book Mobile. Other people started showing up and pretty soon we had packed house.

The organizers kept the door open, as it was a warm evening, and occasionally, the sound of thumping car stereos, rumbling trucks and some guy yelling in Spanish rolled into the room.

Initially I was getting annoyed at the interference--this goddamn city!--but I gradually accepted the street noise as the sounds of the city and it actually added to the readings.

The writers were all very talented, and I met some cool people. The bus stop was right across the street, and I only had to wait a few minutes for my ride to show up.

I wouldn’t call this a life-changing event by any means, but if you keep pushing yourself to do new things, your life will start to change.

I'm just so happy that I got over my personal inertia and did something different.

And I'm sure Dr. Praeger will understand.