i am the child of the wasteland....a land of haunted houses and monsters i call father. dark talents run in the family, but i shatter the glass to let the moonlight in, not to destroy something fragile for the feeling of breaking beneath my fists. all i can do is scream, crawl out, and keep screaming. but i can hold the sparrow, mend its wing... i am the spring rain and the hurricane... the monsters cower now, not me, not you. *xn*

Thursday, Feb. 27, 2003 - 7:51 pm

so there was a huge fight on my street tonight, and i don't mean in one spot- it ranged the whole street, ave to ave and seemed to involve a whole building. it was a large number of teen guys (surprised right? no) well it also involved a number of older women (now you are surprised) and they seemed to be helping to egg it on and two were carryng sticks..

so it spills out on to the main avenue and one guy almost gets hit and then the mass of them fall into the ramp leading into an older people's apartment house and the sound was amazing. it was one long sustained crowd screech with accents of gabble and babble, and i finally picked out the two main fighters- two skinny guys and people kind of jumping on them and pushing them alternately away from each other and then toward each other- and the older women right in there yelling and gesturing- and it was clear after a minute that they were NOT trying to stop it.

i call 911, not that a fight is all so weird but the people around were getting more and more violent- just recently a guy and his daughter were pelted by snowballs in another borough and he came back with a gun and shot a little girl who wasn't even involved with the snowfight. the anger builds like road rage.

they tell me on 911 that the incident has already been called in. so the fight goes on, and then there is a lull. but its not over yet, they go further down the block (I am on a corner building on the ave and street only two floors up so its like a live version of "cops TV" right there but still without cops).

two guys (different now than the first two) start to undress down to wife-beaters and baggy jeans- the crowd gathers around and the older ladies are shouting at people, one with a stick i now recognize as the lady who lives above me- but i don't see her son anywhere, so what the F**K was she doing there? the two guys who were undressing start fighting again- again the noise reaches a shrill screech and again they spill out into the ave.

this is one of the weirdest things because young men going at it are nothing unusual but the older ladies there, was surreal. Again into the ramp and then further back down the street and it begins to wane.

then the police show up, like six cars, and they put some tiny skinny bystander kid up against the wall and they start pulling sticks from the ladies and try to remove the cane of a handicapped man but then realize what it is before the poor guy falls over. people who look like tourists are laughing and pointing.

i wonder if anything was solved, it actually looked like an organized fight in some way with the moms and aunties reffing it. i have never seen this before and thankfully no one pulled out a gun. in these close streets a stray bullet could kill someone in a building just minding their own business not to mention who it was "meant" for and i doubt whatever power trip someone was on is worth killing someone.

i doubt it was about drugs. people automatically think if there is a drug problem in a neighborhood its the latino guys but here, there ARE lots of latino families, but its the white guys that have the problem here. they are the ones always being busted and the euro-tourists come bringing some kind of thing that smells like skunk's tails slow burning. they think that coming to NYC anything goes and they are the ones blasting music all night and wandering drunk and crying in the streets.

twice we have found little blonde chicks and their passed out boyfriends asleep in the street all drugged out and the guys around here poke at the girls with their feet and say "wake up your booty is showing and you look like trash, get up, my family lives here." so its interesting to wonder what this fight was about that involved boys and mothers and aunties. maybe a girl? maybe a jacket? maybe an insult to someone's mother or sister (this is my guess). who knows.

dodging imaginary bullets

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