Victor invited me to Williamsburg to meet Gabe. They've been together long enough to make a baby, so it was time. Extended fingers are a through-line in Victor's relationships.
Gabe, who emigrated with his parents from the southern Philippines when he was eight, makes a mean and pretty, gluten-free birthday cake. Trained as an artist at Cooper Union, he's also worked as a fashion stylist, party promoter, Lucky Cheng's host and food co-op manager before becoming a Victor wrangler, the hardest job of all.
My visit coincided with the remnants of Tropical Storm Ophelia. I took New York Ferry's Astoria line from East 90th Street.
With so little room left in Manhattan, real estate developers have moved to Long Island City and the East River waterfront in Queens and Brooklyn to erect new residential complexes.
I disembarked in "north" Williamsburg. These apartments are a far cry from the walk-ups in "south" Williamsburg where Joe moved briefly after graduating from Columbia.
Random street sign sculpture recalls the hipster vibe of pre-gentrification.
Victor pays more than five times as much rent as I do for his one-bedroom apartment on the 28th floor overlooking the East River and Williamsburg Bridge.
You can't beat the therapeutic views, the quality of construction or rooftop pool. Most residents work in finance or tech, although some units are reserved for lower income tenants who must feel as if they hit some kind of housing lottery jackpot. Good for them!
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| Sunny Day View from 1 South 1st Street |
Domino Park, repurposed from the sugar refinery that opened in 1882, serves as Victor's and Gabe's front yard. Here they are in front of metal tanks once used to store syrup.
Victor led a game of bros or (gay) bois as we checked out male pedestrians. We fell into the latter category, despite our ages, although Gabe is more than a decade younger than either of us.
I count myself very lucky to have seen Kara Walker's unforgettable installation in this building before the area's redevelopment. Victor can remember the wafting scent of sugar from his Brooklyn childhood as he and his family drove past in their car.
"This place is like the High Line on steroids," he declared. Aside from the re-purposing and some similar landscaping, I'm not sure I agree.
The High Line, built as a gift to New York City before subsequently attracting private development, is a narrow, elevated canyon cutting through 20 blocks of Manhattan that feels claustrophobic. The more spacious Domino Park was built in exchange for commercial development. By the way, those brightly painted cranes were once used to unload sugar cane from ships.
$14 margaritas are available from Tacocina.
From the north end of Domino Park you still can catch a glimpse of the old waterfront.
It makes you wonder what is being lost to redevelopment.
But's it's easy to wax nostalgic. Here's how the area looked from the other side as recently as 2017.
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