Leaving Brooklyn

Going to place the posts from FB here so I can remember what happened years from now:

The Beginning

A story always has a beginning, and my story begins in Williamsburg, Brooklyn during the Blackout of 2003. Yes, I am the answer to the question: who moves during a blackout? I moved to NYC during the blackout figuring that no one would be on the roads or going to the City while the lights were out (plus maybe I'd pick up a free tv if things devolved into massive looting). 

Williamsburg was my destination because of a small group of East Lyme High School ex-pats, who had settled in this happening section of Brooklyn a few years before plus I had an apartment that I got without any type of search offered to me by phone, sight unseen, while I was in Vegas at a bachelor party.

But I digress, so I loaded up the Mazda Protege, drove down to a place I barely knew, slept on a floor for a day or so (with my stuff down the road in the car) and eventually moved into 398 Graham...

More stories about that place but that's how we begin...

398 Graham

Apartment 1 at 398 Graham- a place where the bathroom blocks your way to the shower and smells from the landlord's room adjacent to the kitchen range from wet dog to cigarettes to the great smelling but never sampled Italian food. Yes, the place was not ideal with its 8 foot ceilings, linoleum tiled walls (yes walls) and lack of light, circulation, etc., but it gave me a place to crash for the first seven years of my time in Brooklyn. (there was also a moth problem for awhile but that went away)

Those hallowed walls saw many roommates with Shawn Fagan (being the first to tolerate me) to the Keshner boys ( Andy and Zachary) to Dan Ambrico (still not on Facebook). There were also temporary roommates, Zachery Salwasser and of course, my sister, Pamela Prior. At this moment, I really wish I had kept a guestbook for those that found shelter from the mean streets of Brooklyn at 398 because it would be filled with lawyers, doctors, actors along with fathers, mothers and truly decent people who would ask me to delete their names from the book. (Comment below if you stayed there with a memory)

It also became the center of annual celebrations such as the pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving where I learned to brine, the Brooklyn Half Marathon (pre and post crashpad), Valentine's Day Massacre Pub Crawl Headquarters, the World Cup (when Italy won and we drank champagne on the streets) and of course, the annual Super Bowl Party...

But if I had one memory to summarize my entire stay, it would right at the beginning when within a few months time of moving in.. a good buddy came down to visit and decided that since she/he was locked out that a good door kicking in was required to gain entry. When my landlords forgave me (thanks to the help of a friend who spoke a very specific dialect of Italian), I realized I could live there for as long as I needed.... (And did... without a lease... for years)