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Skipping the Gas Pump, and Getting Fuel From a Deep Fryer

Gerard Lynn, the owner of a business in Red Hook, Brooklyn, making diesel fuel from leftover cooking oil from a fish and chips restaurant in the Bronx. Todd Heisler/The New York Times Gerard Lynn, the owner of a business in Red Hook, Brooklyn, making diesel fuel from leftover cooking oil from a fish and chips restaurant in the Bronx.

Gerard Lynn says he has found a way to buck the prices at the gas pump. He makes his own biodiesel from the used cooking oil of a Bronx fish and chips restaurant.

“This is before,” Mr. Lynn, the owner of Murlynn Air Compressor in Red Hook, Brooklyn, said recently as he held up a glass jar filled with a murky brown mixture, tiny particles of black, charred residue floating inside. “Those are bits of French fries.”

“And this is after,” he said, proudly displaying a similar glass jar containing a clear liquid the color of golden amber.

Once a week, Mr. Lynn stops by Parkchester Fish and Chips in the Bronx. He exchanges an empty 40-gallon barrel for one filled with enough used soybean oil to have deep-fried a week’s worth of chicken wings, shrimp, fish, onion rings and French fries. And it smells like it.

Back at his shop, Mr. Lynn unloads the liquid and begins the process of converting it into 40 gallons of biodiesel, enough to run his two vehicles for the next seven days.

His setup looks like a giant chemistry lab test. Neatly assembled on a platform, its primary components consist of a water heater and two large, plastic funnel-shaped containers. They connect through a well-ordered configuration of pipes, pumps, hoses and valves.

Mr. Lynn first strains out any food remnants. He then pumps the filtered cooking oil into the larger container and begins a heating and blending process involving a carefully measured compound of methanol and lye. The mixture gently agitates for at least four hours before sitting overnight to allow any fat to sink to the bottom. In the morning he will drain it off along with any moisture.

“There’s a lot of waiting around,” he said. “There’s not a whole lot of doing.”

Mr. Lynn, a gregarious sort who hails from Ireland and speaks with a subtle brogue, began making biodiesel about a year ago after stumbling across an article about the process. “It seemed pretty simple,” he said.

He bought a used biodiesel processor for $1,000 on eBay. It was being sold by a field worker for the Environmental Protection Agency whose enthusiasm for home brewing had waned.

Mr. Lynn initially secured his raw material in smaller batches from an assortment of restaurants. Then he discovered Parkchester Fish and Chips on Archer Street. “I rate their fish and chips very high,” said Mr. Lynn, who would stop there for lunch whenever working in the Bronx. He still polishes off a meal before hauling away the used cooking oil.

Before he offered to take it for free, the family-operated restaurant, with its hand-painted seascape murals and a fluorescent sign that reads “Always Delicious,” had been paying someone a nominal fee to remove its discarded oil.

“We’ve got to get rid of it,” Gerald Franklin, the restaurant’s manager, said as he set up his four-basket fryer operation before the noontime rush. He refills the fryers every day with fresh oil.

“It’s cool what he does,” Mr. Franklin said, referring to Mr. Lynn. “It’s good for everyone. He’s recycling.”

Competition is growing for used cooking oil. Some companies, like Greased Lightning in Newark, now specialize in collecting and paying for large quantities of used oil from restaurants to refine into biofuel. Smaller restaurants are also increasingly becoming victims of petty oil thefts, according to law enforcement officials.

Randazzo’s Clam Bar in Sheepshead Bay, for instance, discovered in March that the lock on its 1,000-gallon barrel of used cooking oil was clipped and that thieves had been pilfering it for a while. Rosemary Randazzo, an owner, watched a surveillance video recording that captured one of the nighttime operations. “They were doing it so quickly,’’ she said, “and they were so good at it, that it only took them a few seconds to get it out.”

Mr. Lynn estimates that brewing his own biofuel saves him about half of what he would pay for a gallon of diesel fuel at the pump. But it isn’t all about cutting costs. Mr. Lynn has an 11-year-old son with autism and wonders, along with other parents and medical researchers, if environmental factors aren’t contributing to today’s prevalence of autism. Biodiesel burns cleaner and more efficiently than petroleum-based fuels. “I think we all have to do our bit,” he said.

To encourage the safe home brewing of biodiesel, which does not require registration for personal use, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation posts an online fact sheet that explains the rules, risks and best practices, including how to deal with its byproduct, glycerol.

Widely used in foods and pharmaceuticals, glycerol is a key component of glycerin soap. In its raw form, though, “it doesn’t smell so good,” said Mr. Lynn as he opened a drain valve at the bottom of his mixing container to allow the black liquid to ooze into a bucket. He scooped up a small amount. “It smells a little like French fries,” he said.

Mr. Lynn collecting the fuel from Parkchester Fish and Chips. He enjoys a meal there each time he retrieves the oil.Todd Heisler/The New York Times Mr. Lynn collecting the fuel from Parkchester Fish and Chips. He enjoys a meal there each time he retrieves the oil.


City’s Largest Public Employees Union Endorses Liu

In a boost to his embattled mayoral campaign, John C. Liu, the city comptroller, received the support on Wednesday of the city’s largest public employees union, District Council 37.

The endorsement solidifies Mr. Liu’s credentials as perhaps the most pro-union and liberal of the Democratic candidates. It also represents a bit of a rebuke of William C. Thompson Jr., a former comptroller who got the union’s backing in 2009 and is running again.

Then again, the endorsement was hardly a surprise; many political analysts had been predicting for months, if not years, that the union, which represents 121,000 members, would back Mr. Liu. And, in a hint of the reverence in which Mr. Liu is held by members, he got by far the most rapturous applause during a recent mayoral debate organized by the union.

Yet District Council 37’s political clout remains debatable, especially since other unions, including those that represent teachers, health care workers, hotel workers and building workers, are much more coveted because they are considered to be more influential and better organized politically.

The union also has developed a maverick reputation in recent years in backing candidates with checkered records. In 2012, for instance, the union was virtually alone in backing three state legislators who had already run afoul of the law: William F. Boyland Jr., Shirley L. Huntley and Naomi Rivera.

Still, Mr. Liu, who has been dogged by a long-running federal investigation into his campaign, which has so far netted convictions against two former associates, welcomed the backing.

“This is so personal to me,” said a buoyant Mr. Liu, flanked by union leaders, during an event at City Hall. “We’ve got to get the city out of the hands of the billionaires and the mega-corporations and put it back in the hands of the workers.”

Union leaders cited Mr. Liu’s consistent advocacy for city workers, dating back to his days as a councilman representing Flushing, Queens, as being a key reason he was backed so overwhelmingly. They cited, in particular, his aggressive work in highlighting the Bloomberg administration’s scandal-tarred CityTime project, whose costs ballooned to $700 million from $73 million.

Union officials also said that Mr. Liu had been unfairly targeted by Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, prosecutors and the political establishment. Some said they believed that recent polls showing Mr. Liu languishing in single digits, and trailing four other Democrats, were skewed. And they vowed, on Wednesday, to do their best to elect Mr. Liu.

“I think they started out trying to undermine the campaign, and we don’t play the game,” said Lillian Roberts, the union’s executive director. “He did nothing wrong. It’s definitely a dirty trick to do that, and we’re very upset about that.”



A Second Democrat Calls for Silver to Resign

Inez D. BarronJohn Marshall Mantel for The New York Times Inez D. Barron

ALBANY - And then there were two.

In another microfracture in the support for the Assembly speaker, Sheldon Silver, a second Democrat - Assemblywoman Inez D. Barron of Brooklyn - has called for his resignation over his handling of the case of Vito Lopez, the disgraced former assemblyman who is accused of sexually harassing staff members.

Ms. Barron, a critic of Mr. Silver, is the first Democratic woman to call for the speaker’s resignation. Assemblyman Michael Kearns, a Buffalo Democrat, is the only other Democratic assembly member to call for Mr. Silver’s resignation; Mr. Kearns subsequently left the Democratic caucus.

Ms. Barron made her opinion known in a little-noticed letter to the speaker last week, in which she attacked Mr. Silver for “an unacceptable attempt to cover up the allegations of sexual harassment” of Mr. Lopez’s staff members, including secret payments to two women who had also accused the former assemblyman.

In doing so, Ms. Barron said the speaker had “jeopardized the safety of and the respect for female employees.”

The letter, distributed in a news release, was dated May 23, just before a five-day legislative break for Memorial Day, and was largely unnoticed until the Assembly returned to work on Wednesday. The Daily News published an item on Ms. Barron’s letter Wednesday.

In a phone interview, Ms. Barron said she had decided to write and distribute the letter to call attention to “a very stark instance” of the lawmakers not following the law.

“None of us is perfect,” said Ms. Barron, whose name has been mentioned as a possible New York City Council candidate for a seat currently held by her husband, Charles. “But we should adhere to the policies we set.”

Mike Whyland, a spokesman for Mr. Silver, seemed unsurprised by Ms. Barron’s split with the speaker.

“She didn’t vote for him in January,” said Mr. Whyland, referring to the Assembly Democrats’ vote for their leaders. “And doesn’t support him as speaker.”

Nor did Ms. Barron seem to think that her letter was the beginning of a groundswell of opposition to Mr. Silver. “I haven’t heard any of my colleagues speaking on that issue,” she said.



The Ad Campaign: Group Frames the Choice as Anyone but Quinn

A political action committee dedicated to thwarting Christine C. Quinn’s mayoral ambitions released three new advertisements on Thursday, featuring New Yorkers explaining why they do not like Ms. Quinn, the City Council speaker, and will not vote for her. The committee, called NYC Is Not for Sale 2013, was founded by the president of Local 1180, which represents communications workers; an animal rights group that has sparred with Ms. Quinn over horse-drawn carriages; and a wealthy businesswoman. It is legally allowed to spend unlimited amounts on political advertising as long as it does not coordinate its activity with a candidate. The ads began running Thursday on several cable channels in the city, and was produced by The Advance Group.

Click below to jump to a fact-check:

  • 0:04  Closing St. Vincent’s

    The ad suggests that Ms. Quinn held some of the blame for the closing of St. Vincent’s Hospital in the West Village. In fact, she was on a task force that tried to save the hospital, which was $1 billion in debt, and she played a role in arranging for it to be replaced by a 24-hour emergency facility, which is scheduled to open next year.

  • 0:10  Bloomberg and Quinn

    The man in the ad suggests Ms. Quinn regularly does Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg’s bidding on the City Council and that her mayoralty would be a continuation of his. Ms. Quinn has been a close ally of Mr. Bloomberg, and, as speaker, she led the Council in voting to temporarily lift term limits to allow him (and many City Council members, including herself) to run for a third term. But she has also split with him on his administration’s homeless policy and on legislation that the Council has passed to give some private sector workers higher wages and paid sick leave. In the last two years, Mr. Bloomberg and Ms. Quinn have sued each other â€" Ms. Quinn over the mayor’s policy on the homeless, and Mr. Bloomberg over the wage legislation.

SCORECARD The ads reflect the vitriol of some of Ms. Quinn’s opponents. They don’t make many specific claims, instead emphasizing Ms. Quinn’s perceived closeness to the mayor and asserting that she is self-interested. Still, the ads present a challenge to Ms. Quinn, by putting negative images before the public now while she waits until later in the campaign season to spend money on ads.





Behold the Latest in Trash Trucks and Police Three-Wheelers

A log loader on display on Thursday during a vehicle and equipment show organized by the city at Flushing Meadows-Corona Park.Ramin Talaie for The New York Times A log loader on display on Thursday during a vehicle and equipment show organized by the city at Flushing Meadows-Corona Park.

When the Unisphere at the 1964 World’s Fair was brand new, the crowds marveled at the Mercury capsule that had carried Scott Carpenter into space, a replica of a two-person Gemini capsule and, for those who remained earthbound, a Picturephone that could make videocalls. It was the latest in technology, they said.

In the shadow of the Unisphere on Thursday, city officials marveled at Dennis Sivillo’s garbage truck. It was the latest in technology, they said.

The truck is a diesel-hydraulic hybrid. It was on display at Flushing Meadows-Corona Park in Queens at what amounted to an outdoor trade show run by New York City and open to companies that sell their products to city agencies. They set up everything from impact-absorbing “crash cushions” to forklifts to lights for police cars to an electric-powered three-wheel scooter that looks something like a bulkier, more stable Segway.

The three-wheeler is made by Vectrix, a Massachusetts company that manufactures electric scooters. Gerry White, a retired police officer who is Vectrix’s director of government sales and law enforcement training, said the New York Police Department already had some Vectrix two-wheelers and had promised to test the three-wheeler.

“Top speed, 25 miles an hour,” he said after circling the Unisphere, looking for the perfect place to snap a photograph. “And it has multiple batteries. They’re swappable. It will do 30 to 35 miles on 20 cents’ worth of electricity.”

The city’s purchasing agency, the Department of Citywide Administrative Services, sponsored the “vehicle and equipment show,” an expanded version of an annual program that Keith T. Kerman oversaw when he ran the parks department’s fleet. He moved to the administrative services agency two years ago as the city’s chief fleet management officer.

He said the “public-works fleets” â€" the ones run by the sanitation, transportation, parks and environmental protection agencies â€" were operating their diesel-powered vehicles on a blend containing 20 percent biofuel from April to November. The rest of the year, he said, they will use a 5 percent blend. He said emergency-service fleets would switch to the 5 percent blend by the end of the year but would not make the warm-weather transition to the 20 percent mixture.

Officials said the city now had 5,562 hybrid or all-electric vehicles, of which 2,570 were Toyota Priuses and 1,806 were Ford Fusions or Escapes. The city also has 612 plug-in electric vehicles, including 103 Chevrolet Volts, and has 117 charging stations. Empire Clean Cities, a nonprofit group that is part of a national coalition committed to reducing petroleum consumption, gave the parks department fleet its certification for lower-than-expected emissions. It said the department had reduced petroleum consumption by 54 percent and greenhouse gas emissions by 33 percent.

Perhaps the most colorful truck near the Unisphere was a parks department log loader. It is orange and recently joined 20 to 30 similar machines that can be used for lifting fallen trees after major storms. This one can lift 3,100 pounds, almost three times as much as some earlier models.

As for Mr. Sivillo’s garbage truck, it is one of 15 diesel-hydraulic hybrid trucks in the Sanitation Department fleet, according to Rocco DiRico, a deputy sanitation commissioner. He said that oil from a closed-loop system is captured in a hydraulic pump when the driver depresses the brakes. Hybrid electric cars like the Prius use the same principle to charge batteries than can power the car.

Mr. DiRico also said the trucks can continue to operate on diesel power alone if the hybrid equipment fails.

At about $276,000, the diesel-hydraulic hybrid trucks cost about $47,000 more than conventional rear-loading garbage trucks, he said. A truck that runs on compressed natural gas, another alternative to conventional fuel, costs about $265,000, he said.

Some of the vendors who attended the show said they were not trying to land customers and write orders on the spot.

“You want to get a couple of good quality leads you can follow up on,” said Derrick Thomason, a territory manager for Cummins Power Systems, who was talking about a $12,500-to-$14,000 emergency generator for homes.

The homes he had in mind did not include Gracie Mansion (and not just because Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg does not live there). He said he was hoping to connect with “some of the workers that might stop by, or some of the guys who are working the booths.”

Gerry White of Vectrix, a maker of electric scooters, demonstrated one intended for police use.Ramin Talaie for The New York Times
Gerry White of Vectrix, a maker of electric scooters, demonstrated one intended for police use.


Diverse Mix of Candidates Weigh In on an Obscure Jewish Ritual

It is a measure of the multicultural finesse it takes to run for mayor in New York City that seven Democratic candidates â€" including men and women of Chinese, Latino, Irish and Italian backgrounds â€" have staked out positions on an Orthodox Jewish circumcision ritual that is obscure even to most Jews.

On Wednesday night, the candidates took part in a forum at the Manhattan Beach Jewish Center sponsored by The Jewish Press, a weekly publication geared toward the Orthodox community, and the very first question thrown at them concerned metzitzah b’peh, an ancient practice common in ultra-Orthodox communities in which the circumciser uses his mouth to suck blood from the wound.

Since September, New York City health officials, noting that 12 cases of herpes simplex virus have most likely resulted from the procedure since 2000, have required parents to fill out a consent form that acknowledges they are aware of the risks. Orthodox groups have shrugged off the risks and sued the city to block the consent requirement, but a federal judge ruled in January that the city may temporarily proceed.

Though some of the candidates at a forum heavily attended by Orthodox Jews mangled the pronunciation of the Hebrew term, they took subtly contrasting positions.

John C. Liu, the city comptroller, said he would abandon the requirement for consent forms, pointing out that the procedure had been used for “thousands of years” and “for some reason a billionaire mayor decided he knows better than anyone else.”

The Rev. Erick Salgado, the pastor of the Church of Iglesia Jovenes Cristianos, said he saw the consent requirement as an example of interference from City Hall in religious matters and an “attack against a community of faith,” just like restrictions on the use of well water for making matzos before Passover.

However, Christine C. Quinn, the City Council speaker, defended the consent forms, saying they offer “a balance” between the needs of Jewish tradition and health concerns.

Bill de Blasio, the public advocate, used the question to attack Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg for trying “to impose his will” without sensitivity to religious traditions and urged officials to join with religious leaders to work out a plan that indicates “respect for religious tradition.”

Sal F. Albanese, a former councilman, said that if he was elected mayor he, too, would call in all parties to the dispute and hammer out a consensus.

William C. Thompson Jr., a former comptroller, arrived too late to answer the question directly, but in March he told ultra-Orthodox leaders that one thing he had heard was “there was no conversation â€" it was this is the way it’s going to be, my way or the highway.” He also said he would bring the parties together to work out a protocol that “balances safety and religious practice.”

Anthony D. Weiner, the only Jewish candidate and one who sprinkled all of his responses with Yiddish terms, noted that he had stated his support for metzitzah b’peh in a 2005 article in The Forward about the practice. He did not, however, address the specific question of consent forms.



City Discloses New Location of 9/11 Victims’ Remains

Memorial Park, on East 30th Street, near the Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive, leads to a chapel in a large tent under which the remains of World Trade Center victims were stored until October.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times Memorial Park, on East 30th Street, near the Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive, leads to a chapel in a large tent under which the remains of World Trade Center victims were stored until October.

For more than a decade, relatives of World Trade Center victims had been accustomed to walking through Memorial Park on East 30th Street on their way to a tranquil chapel under a big white tent. There, they could pay their respects to the dead, knowing that the victims’ remains were nearby, carefully stored â€" though out of sight â€" beneath the same tent top.

On the wall of Memorial Park.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times On the wall of Memorial Park.

On Memorial Day, a number of victims’ relatives accused the Bloomberg administration of having “snatched” the remains from Memorial Park and surreptitiously moving them to an “undisclosed location.”

A day later, Nazli Parvizi, the Bloomberg administration’s commissioner of community affairs, informed family members by e-mail that the remains had in fact been moved in October 2012 â€" in advance of Hurricane Sandy â€" to the DNA Forensic Biology Laboratory Building at 421 East 26th Street, which is run by the office of the chief medical examiner.

“The Memorial Park area at East 30th Street was damaged during the storm, and given the vulnerability of the park to future storms, we have determined that the location is no longer suitable as storage for the remains,” Ms. Parvizi wrote.

“The DNA building is a brand new, state-of-the-art facility where scientists are continuing their efforts to identify those killed in the 9/11 terrorist attacks,” she continued. “This new location is not vulnerable to storm damage.”

The medical examiner’s office still holds more than 8,000 body fragments from the attack on the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001. They are stored in vacuum-sealed plastic pouches, with bar codes and identification numbers.

Ms. Parvizi said the remains would stay at the laboratory until the completion of the National September 11 Memorial Museum at the World Trade Center, when they will be placed in a repository near bedrock level.

Opponents of the plan to enshrine the remains in the museum were angered by the new disclosure.

“They moved the remains, without notification and consultation to the 9/11 families, because of possible flood concerns,” said Norman Siegel, a lawyer who represents the opponents. “Yet, they will ultimately place the remains in the museum, 70 feet below ground in a flood zone, which was flooded during Hurricane Sandy. It is hard to discern the logic behind this.”

Museum officials and a spokeswoman for the medical examiner’s office have said that the remains can be evacuated with enough notice and that the repository will be watertight in any case. Ms. Parvizi said that victims’ relatives could arrange to visit the DNA laboratory and that the memorial chapel would reopen “for quiet reflection.”

But on Wednesday, the park and the entrance to the chapel were still in a state of disarray. Within sight of a memorial flier for James M. Cartier, an electrician who was working on the 105th floor of the south tower when the building was hit, are uprooted chunks of concrete and sawed-off tree limbs.

“Memorial Park in itself holds no value to us,” his brother, John C. Cartier, wrote in an e-mail to other victims’ relatives, “but it is the remains of those we lost that mean everything.”

Remains of World Trade Center victims were stored under the tent until the approach of Hurricane Sandy.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times Remains of World Trade Center victims were stored under the tent until the approach of Hurricane Sandy.


‘I Spy’ on the Train

Dear Diary:

An arms’ length away, a bubbly girl of about 6, gleefully riding this Manhattan-bound N train with her father, had engaged him in a round of “I Spy.”

“I spy, with my little eye…” she chanted. She hadn’t perfected her indoor voice yet. The passengers around her smiled into their books. What word had the letter E? Which ad featured a yellow flower?

Then something startled me. “I spy… a purple coat!” Inadvertently, I had caught her attention. “I spy… pink shoes!” She smiled innocently as she deconstructed my appearance with a critical eye, and I, imagining her unrestrained powers of observation, hoped for a little mercy. Her father, a most reluctant participant, turned his face away but continued to indulge his little girl with responses.

When his inability to guess became too much for her, it was time to reveal my identity. She nudged her father and pointed at me, looking me directly in the eye. Her father silently groaned and focused on counting the remaining stops.

His daughter, triumphant, moved on to the next round.

“I spy, with my little eye, someone with yellow teeth!”

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Honoring Those Who Served at Their Sides

American Legion members on Northern Boulevard in Queens on Monday in the Little Neck-Douglaston Memorial Day Parade.Joshua Bright for The New York Times American Legion members on Northern Boulevard in Queens on Monday in the Little Neck-Douglaston Memorial Day Parade.

See more Memorial Day coverage from National.



After Chronicling History, SoHo Artist Is Losing a Vantage Point

In 1990, James Wentzy â€" a 38-year-old struggling artist, darkroom wizard and self-described SoHo homesteader â€" learned he had H.I.V. Faced with his own mortality, he decided reluctantly to do something he hated. Work.

“I’ll be dead real soon,” he figured. “No later than the end of ’90. I’ll work real hard so that when I die, it’ll be a relief.”

Some of Mr. Wentzy's tapes.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times Some of Mr. Wentzy’s tapes.

With that, he began videotaping members of the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power, or Act Up, and others as they fought popular indifference and official neglect in the face of the AIDS epidemic. He recorded artists who were living with H.I.V. and AIDS. He produced more than 150 AIDS-related programs for public-access cable television and was the subject of a documentary, “Books of James.”

What Mr. Wentzy didn’t do was die. So his tape collection grew and grew and grew into an archive about 600 hours long, or 25 entire days from beginning to end. There were incendiary moments, like when protesters hurled the ashes of AIDS casualties over the White House fence, and quiet ones, like when the poet Jaime Manrique recalled visiting with the writer Reinaldo Arenas, who was suffering from AIDS, the day before Mr. Arenas killed himself.

“James Wentzy has been the great, tireless chronicler of the grassroots response to the AIDS crisis for over 20 years,” Jim Hubbard, a co-founder of MIX, the New York Queer Experimental Film Festival, wrote for an exhibition at the Fales Library of New York University.

In Mr. Wentzy’s basement apartment at 12 Wooster Street, where he has lived since February 1982, he created a wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling video library, editing suite and impromptu museum of gay life in New York City, just outside a darkroom and processing room that would have been the envy of many black-and-white photographers. Almost all the construction materials were salvaged from within the building, which was once the headquarters of the Durbrow & Hearne Manufacturing Company, makers of sewing and embroidering machines and needles.

The basement of 12 Wooster Street as Mr. Wentzy found it in 1982James Wentzy The basement of 12 Wooster Street as Mr. Wentzy found it in 1982

Three things pushed him to keep going, Mr. Wentzy said. One: motivating others to get active in the movement. Two: educating the public about why Act Up and its allies were so angry and impatient. Three: preserving a living history of the often-tumultuous campaign against AIDS.

“I had no control over the first two,” he said, but added that he knew he had that third one nailed.

The future of Mr. Wentzy’s archive seems assured, with its recent acquisition by the New York Public Library. “James Wentzy has made a major contribution as an activist and director,” said Jason Baumann, the library’s coordinator of collection assessment. “His materials in the library’s collections are essential for scholars and documentarians studying AIDS activism.”

Mr. Wentzy’s own future, however, is anything but certain.

Mr. Wentzy in his living room.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times Mr. Wentzy in his living room.

He has depended for 31 years on the kindness of his landlord, D. James Dee, a photographer of fine art who does business as the SoHo Photographer. They struck a deal in 1982 under which Mr. Wentzy would process and print Mr. Dee’s large-format black-and-white negatives in return for rent-free quarters in the basement. The arrangement has persisted, long beyond the near-obsolescence of film, to this day.

But Mr. Dee is retiring to Florida. And though he will still own the ground floor and basement of 12 Wooster Street, he has leased it to the jewelry designer Melissa Joy Manning, as an office, design studio and wholesale showroom, for 10 years, beginning Aug. 1. “They want to use the space they’re paying for,” Mr. Dee said, not an unreasonable position for a tenant to take.

So Mr. Wentzy, 60, must move out. And soon. He does not know yet where he’ll land â€" Germany, Thailand, Japan, Jersey City, Oakland, Calif., or out in the woods. He’ll be leaving a city much different than the one that welcomed him in 1976 from Brookings, S.D., with a seeming promise that he could do anything if he stuck to it long enough.

He will be dismantling a place suffused with memory, smelling of old wood, darkroom chemistry and cigarette smoke. (Mr. Wentzy rolls his own). He’ll be packing up tools of long-ago trades, like a sample book of Durbrow & Hearne needles and a glass case full of dead videotape cameras, along with posters, leaflets and buttons that called people to long-ago battles.

“Act Up was one of the few communities that got down to fight,” Mr. Wentzy said. “I haven’t used the word community without putting quotes around it since the mid-’90s. I think we lost the war on AIDS. There is no community. Now it’s, ‘Good luck, you’re on your own.’ ”

Unlike many tales of real estate displacement, Mr. Wentzy’s story has no villain. In a way, it doesn’t even have a victim, he acknowledged. “After 31 years, I can’t start crying, ‘Oh, I’ve been so lucky and now I’m not,’ ” he said.

“And I can’t jump out the window with any satisfaction.”

A photo of the artist Tehching Hsieh at the front door of 12 Wooster Street in 1982, next to a tag from Durbrow & Hearne.David W. Dunlap/The New York Times A photo of the artist Tehching Hsieh at the front door of 12 Wooster Street in 1982, next to a tag from Durbrow & Hearne.


Farewell, Sammy the Deli Man

Victor Kerlow

Dear Diary:

My heart is broken. How could he have done this to me?

His name is Sammy and I met him two years ago. Each weekday morning I would leave my apartment and take the subway to 28th Street. Like all good New Yorkers, I would avoid eye contact. I speak to no one. No one speaks to me.

When I surfaced, I would walk to the corner cafe. It has a buffet, multiple racks of snacks, a soup bar and a deli department. That is where I met Sammy â€" standing behind the deli counter, dressed in snow white, eager to serve.

Shortly after I entered the cafe, we would make eye contact (my first of the day). His dark brown eyes and my light brown would connect deeply for a nanosecond before I got my coffee. After pouring myself a cup of Colombian coffee, I would walk back to the counter and Sammy. He would hand me my whole-wheat toast lovingly wrapped in foil, and would smile. I would say, “Thank you,” my first words of the day. Sammy and me â€" five days a week for two years.

Until last month. On a Monday morning, I entered the cafe as usual. I searched behind the deli counter for Sammy’s eyes. I walked around the cafe looking for him. I went back to the deli and ordered whole-wheat toast with peanut butter, and went to get my coffee. When I returned, I asked the man where Sammy was.

“He doesn’t work here anymore,” he said.

I asked where had he gone. He didn’t know.

Exhausted by all of this early-morning social interaction, I walked unsteadily to my office. My equilibrium had been shaken.

Sammy â€" you could have left me a note.

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Farewell, Sammy the Deli Man

Victor Kerlow

Dear Diary:

My heart is broken. How could he have done this to me?

His name is Sammy and I met him two years ago. Each weekday morning I would leave my apartment and take the subway to 28th Street. Like all good New Yorkers, I would avoid eye contact. I speak to no one. No one speaks to me.

When I surfaced, I would walk to the corner cafe. It has a buffet, multiple racks of snacks, a soup bar and a deli department. That is where I met Sammy - standing behind the deli counter, dressed in snow white, eager to serve.

Shortly after I entered the cafe, we would make eye contact (my first of the day). His dark brown eyes and my light brown would connect deeply for a nanosecond before I got my coffee. After pouring myself a cup of Colombian coffee, I would walk back to the counter and Sammy. He would hand me my whole-wheat toast lovingly wrapped in foil, and would smile. I would say, “Thank you,” my first words of the day. Sammy and me - five days a week for two years.

Until last month. On a Monday morning, I entered the cafe as usual. I searched behind the deli counter for Sammy's eyes. I walked around the cafe looking for him. I went back to the deli and ordered whole-wheat toast with peanut butter, and went to get my coffee. When I returned, I asked the man where Sammy was.

“He doesn't work here anymore,” he said.

I asked where had he gone. He didn't know.

Exhausted by all of this early-morning social interaction, I walked unsteadily to my office. My equilibrium had been shaken.

Sammy - you could have left me a note.

Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via e-mail diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.



An Urban Farm Thrives Again in Lower Manhattan

Some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend crops.Ángel Franco/The New York Times Some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend crops.

“It's hard for first-grade fingers,” Camilla Hammer explained. “We tell them it's like putting sprinkles on a cupcake.”

The first-grade fingers in question were about to plant “lettuce mix” seeds - mustard, kale and arugula - at the urban farm at the Battery, a carefully tended acre in the shadow of tall office buildings in Lower Manhattan. All of the children had their own space in a bed of dark, rich-looking soil, but the remarkable thing was that the farm was there at all. Hurricane Sandy did not wash it away.

The storm flung the topsoil this way and that, and what was not blown away was soaked in salty floodwater. The Battery Conservancy, the nonprofit group that runs the farm, called horticulturists in New Orleans to find out what they had learned during Hurricane Katrina in 2005. “They said, ‘Soak, soak, soak,'” recalled Warrie Price, the conservancy group's founder and president. “They said: ‘Turn the water back on. Get the salt at the roots.'”

The sprinklers had been shut off for the season, but plumbers were called in to make them function again. Even so, Ms. Price said on Tuesday that about 50 percent of the plant material had been lost. She said that replacements (and new topsoil, where it was needed) were purchased with $50,000 in donations raised during the winter.

So the farm, on the State Street side of the park, is once again home to organic vegetables, fruits and grains.

And Zelda, the wild turkey who has lived there since 2003, still toddles by. The storm did not do her in, either.

This is small-scale agriculture, bigger than growing plants in a window box, big enough for wheelbarrows, but not big enough for a tractor. And the look is not that of “American Gothic.” Battery Conservancy staff members wear T-shirts and jeans, not coveralls. If anyone posed beside an upside-down pitchfork, there would be skyscrapers in the background, not a small white house.

Soon, there will be bicyclists in the background; the conservancy plans to have bicycle paths through the park.

Schoolchildren from Public School 397 planted greens.Ángel Franco/The New York Times Schoolchildren from Public School 397 planted greens.

The urban farm opened in 2011 with Ms. Price's group describing it as the first serious planting at the Battery since the 17th century. The idea for a modern-day farm began with the environmental club at Millennium High School on Broad Street, a short walk from the park. Education has become a focus for the conservancy: some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend the crops.

“For the families of those 2,000,” Ms. Price said, “we are not just a tourist park, as we are for the thousands who walk by during the day. The continued residentialization of Lower Manhattan means there are people in a live-and-work environment here.”

As the temperature soared last week, some urban farmers were planting, and some were already harvesting. On Tuesday, students from Public School 3, the Charrette Elementary School on Hudson Street, planted bibb lettuce. Students from Public School/Intermediate School 276 in Battery Park City harvested turnips, radishes and pea tendrils.

And the first graders, from Public School 397, also known as the Spruce Street School, prepared the soil with watering cans made from yogurt cups with holes they had punched in the bottoms. “We told them they're rainmakers,” Ms. Hammer said. “We used to use a watering can, but they'd fight over who got the watering can. And this uses less water.”

Anna Ellis, the conservancy's farm educator, said that digging and planting makes an impression on schoolchildren. She said one class that had been to the farm was later assigned to do a how-to guide. The children could choose any object they wanted.

“They all did how to plant a carrot,” she said - something they had learned at the farm a few days earlier.

And how do you plant a carrot? On this farm, children are taught to use their fingers as measuring tools, she said. “They have to know how far down to dig the hole - down to the knuckle in your pointer finger,” she said, “and every carrot is three fingers apart, using their fingers as a ruler.”



What\'s Your Favorite Joke From the New Season of ‘Arrested Development\'?

Jason Bateman, right, with Jeffrey Tambor in the new season of Sam Urdank for Netflix Jason Bateman, right, with Jeffrey Tambor in the new season of “Arrested Development.”

“There's always money in the banana stand.”

“You're gonna get some hop-ons.”

“I've made a huge mistake.”

Self-referential one-liners like these three uttered by various “Arrested Development” characters are some of the show's most powerful currency. Since its debut in 2003 on Fox, fans of the cult comedy have been repeating these and others like secret passwords required for admission to a select club. When a person is quick with a “banana stand” joke, it can be presumed they're a fellow traveler. It also probably doesn't hurt if the phrase is mounted in their hallway on a needlepoint.

The return of “Arrested Development” early this morning on Netflix is likely to provide new one-liners for the show's army of aficionados to repeat to one another, transform into Internet memes and print on T-shirts. The New York Times wants to know: Which jokes on the new season of “Arrested Development” will become one-liners that you can't resist using in quips at friends or writing apropos of nothing on Twitter and Facebook?

Share your favorite new “Arrested Development” one-liner in the comments section below, or send us a message on Twitter using the hashtag #TellNYT. We'll gather up some of the results and share them here in the days ahead.



An Urban Farm Thrives Again in Lower Manhattan

Some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend crops.Ángel Franco/The New York Times Some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend crops.

“It’s hard for first-grade fingers,” Camilla Hammer explained. “We tell them it’s like putting sprinkles on a cupcake.”

The first-grade fingers in question were about to plant “lettuce mix” seeds â€" mustard, kale and arugula â€" at the urban farm at the Battery, a carefully tended acre in the shadow of tall office buildings in Lower Manhattan. All of the children had their own space in a bed of dark, rich-looking soil, but the remarkable thing was that the farm was there at all. Hurricane Sandy did not wash it away.

The storm flung the topsoil this way and that, and what was not blown away was soaked in salty floodwater. The Battery Conservancy, the nonprofit group that runs the farm, called horticulturalists in New Orleans to find out what they had learned during Hurricane Katrina in 2005. “They said, ‘Soak, soak, soak,’” recalled Warrie Price, the conservancy group’s founder and president. “They said: ‘Turn the water back on. Get the salt at the roots.’”

The sprinklers had been shut off for the season, but plumbers were called in to make them function again. Even so, Ms. Price said on Tuesday that about 50 percent of the plant material had been lost. She said that replacements (and new topsoil, where it was needed) were purchased with $50,000 in donations raised during the winter.

So the farm, on the State Street side of the park, is once again home to organic vegetables, fruits and grains.

And Zelda, the wild turkey who has lived there since 2003, still toddles by. The storm did not do her in, either.

This is small-scale agriculture, bigger than growing plants in a window box, big enough for wheelbarrows, but not big enough for a tractor. And the look is not that of “American Gothic.” Battery Conservancy staff members wear T-shirts and jeans, not coveralls. If anyone posed beside an upside-down pitchfork, there would be skyscrapers in the background, not a small white house.

Soon, there will be bicyclists in the background; the conservancy plans to have bicycle paths through the park.

The urban farm opened in 2011 with Ms. Price’s group describing it as the first serious planting at the Battery since the 17th century. The idea for a modern-day farm began with the environmental club at Millennium High School on Broad Street, a short walk from the park. Education has become a focus for the conservancy: some 2,000 students from more than 30 schools have now signed up to plant, water and tend the crops.

“For the families of those 2,000,” Ms. Price said, “we are not just a tourist park, as we are for the thousands who walk by during the day. The continued residentialization of Lower Manhattan means there are people in a live-and-work environment here.”

As the temperature soared last week, some urban farmers were planting, and some were already harvesting. On Tuesday, students from Public School 3, the Charrette Elementary School on Hudson Street, planted bibb lettuce. Students from Public School/Intermediate School 276 in Battery Park City harvested turnips, radishes and pea tendrils.

And the first graders, from Public School 397, also known as the Spruce Street School, prepared the soil with watering cans made from yogurt cups with holes they had punched in the bottoms. “We told them they’re rainmakers,” Ms. Hammer said. “We used to use a watering can, but they’d fight over who got the watering can. And this uses less water.”

Anna Ellis, the conservancy’s farm educator, said that digging and planting makes an impression on schoolchildren. She said one class that had been to the farm was later assigned to do a how-to guide. The children could choose any object they wanted.

“They all did how to plant a carrot,” she said â€" something they had learned at the farm a few days earlier.

And how do you plant a carrot? On this farm, children are taught to use their fingers as measuring tools, she said. “They have to know how far down to dig the hole â€" down to the knuckle in your pointer finger,” she said, “and every carrot is three fingers apart, using their fingers as a ruler.”



Brusque Manners in the Jewelry Department

Dear Diary:

When I first moved to New York from the Midwest, I was a little taken aback by the city's pace and slightly rude demeanor, but I quickly learned that brusque manners are merely a disguise for efficiency.

To illustrate, soon after my arrival, I found myself in the jewelry repair department on the eighth floor of Macy's, where several customers were awaiting service. When my turn finally came around, I explained to the harried clerk that I needed a battery replacement for my watch.

Without looking up, he barked, “Name?” I started to spell my last name, but he abruptly cut me off before I could finish, saying with exasperation, “Too long!” and handed me a ticket for pickup.

The letters “MARQ” were written on the top of the ticket.

Now I know how the immigrants at Ellis Island must have felt.

Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via e-mail diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.



New York Led Region in Population Growth Since 2011, Census Shows

New York added more people since 2011 than all the other cities in the metropolitan area combined, according to a new analysis of census results released Thursday.

The city gained 67,000 people between 2011 and 2012, or .81 percent, a higher growth rate than all but two cities in the region with a population of 100,000 or more: Jersey City, 1.12 percent, and Stamford, .84 percent. But those cities grew by only 2,800 and 1,000, respectively. For the second consecutive year, the city grew faster than its suburbs.

New York's gain of 147,000 since 2010, to more than 8.3 million, approached the 178,000 increase recorded in the entire decade from 2000 to 2010.

Like Boston, Los Angeles and Philadelphia, New York grew faster annually since 2010 than the annual rate during the previous decade.

Kenneth M. Johnson, senior demographer at the Carsey Instititute of the University of New Hampshire, attributed the spurt to fewer people leaving the city because of the lingering effects of the recession.

Among the region's bigger cities, Buffalo, Hartford, Paterson, Rochester, Syracuse and Waterbury recorded declines in population.



Zoo Chief\'s First Tweet Stars a 650-Pound Tortoise

James J. Breheny, director of the Bronx Zoo, is a self-described “dinosaur” when it comes to technology. “I'm an animal guy,” he said. “I'm not a techno guy.”

Yet as he makes his rounds of the zoo, the flagship institution of the Wildlife Conservation Society, Mr. Breheny often makes observations of mammals, birds and reptiles â€" both on public view and behind the scenes â€" that he would like to share. And so, on Thursday (World Turtle Day!) at noon, he sent his inaugural tweet, a photograph of one of his favorite animals, a 650-pound Aldabra tortoise named Rocket that the public will not get to see until early next year.

“We do a lot of conservation work with turtles and tortoises all over the world,” he said in a phone interview before his foray into the world of Twitter. “They're really neat animals, but they are under enormous pressure from the pet trade and from hunters for food. ”

Mr. Breheny, who also oversees the management and exhibition of animal collections at the Central Park Zoo, Prospect Park Zoo, Queens Zoo and New York Aquarium, said he believed that social media like Twitter could enhance the public's understanding of the conservation society's programs and mission. “As I go around the zoo, everybody seems to be really connected electronically and digitally,” he said. “I realized that it can be a valuable tool.”

Once he gets used to expressing himself in 140 characters, Mr. Breheny, using the handle @JimBreheny, hopes to post a couple of times a day. While he insists that he has no favorites in the collection, he hinted that coming tweets are likely to include vignettes from the giraffe exhibit, which he said “looks spectacular right now,” as well as the eagle aviary.

As for his first tweet, Mr. Breheny, a lifelong lover of tortoises and turtles, said that Rocket was a natural subject. Rocket, who joined the Bronx Zoo about two months ago from the Tulsa Zoo (Aldabra tortoises are native to the Seychelles Islands in the Indian Ocean), is thought to be between 80 and 100 years old. He will make his debut next spring in a new komodo dragon exhibit scheduled to open in the fall.

“He's a big boy,” Mr. Breheny said of Rocket. “He's intelligent. And he loves to be scratched.”



An Artist\'s Most Dynamic Creation Is a Place

The yard outside a warehouse in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, that has been transformed into housing and work space for artists.Eric Michael Johnson for The New York Times The yard outside a warehouse in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, that has been transformed into housing and work space for artists.

Kellam Clark did not set out to build an artist colony. He set out to build a boat.

Mr. Clark was just out of college and filled with ambition when he planned to buy a dilapidated sailboat with five friends, find a warehouse big enough to repair it in, then become a famous artist, sail around the world, and teach schoolchildren philosophy and art via a satellite transmission along the way. That was supposed to happen in the span of a couple of months between 1999 and 2000.

Mr. Clark never became a famous artist, or sailed around the world, but he did manage to find a warehouse.

For the past 13 years he has poured his passion and ambition into a sprawling complex on Dean Street in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, transforming it from a moldy abandoned assembly shop into a hot spot for creativity.

“Everyone just assumed I knew how to build a loft, which I didn't,” he said. “So it took forever, and I just lived in it.”

The industrial space Mr. Clark now calls home became a piece of art in itself, providing inspiration to the dozens of transient musicians, writers and creative types who drift through its vast and varied spaces every day.

Dean Street, as the building is called, is not a legal residence, according to city regulations, but that has not stopped its four bedrooms from filling up each night with friends and acquaintances of Mr. Clark, as well as a number of artists and travelers passing through New York.

On a recent Monday a small contingent gathered around the long, home-built wood kitchen table, smoking cigarettes, drinking gin and tonics and listening to 1920s-era jazz.

Roommates in the kitchen of the warehouse that has become an artist colony.Eric Michael Johnson for The New York Times Roommates in the kitchen of the warehouse that has become an artist colony.

“The nature of most of the things I do are creative, and there's something about being in four white walls that really puts a huge damper on trying to get in that mind-set,” said Tim Young, a 26-year-old songwriter who frequents the space. “Here you're living in exactly the frame of mind you try to get to when you need to create something.”

The frame of mind cultivated at Dean Street did not come easily. Mr. Clark spent years living without heat and water, slowly fixing up the rented space. What he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in resourcefulness.

After landing a job as an exhibition installer at the Guggenheim Museum 12 years ago, Mr. Clark figured out a way to source many of the materials that now make up Dean Street: With a little finesse and a few free cups of coffee, he persuaded museum workers to help divert the museum's trash to rental trucks he hired.

Now, many of the walls and shelves at Dean Street are made from the museum's discarded wood pedestals. Mr. Clark's most prized possession from the Guggenheim is the mesh wall separating the bathroom from the kitchen â€" it was part of a Frank Gehry sculpture that the museum parted with after an exhibition closed.

Dean Street toes a fine line between an artist's and a hoarder's paradise. One room is made entirely from the contents of a Dumpster Mr. Clark found down the street a few years ago. But according to its residents and frequent guests, the messiness of the space is what makes it so remarkable.

“We're in a place with the inside of an artist's brain across each wall,” said Foster Mickley, 27, a writer and photographer.

As Mr. Clark and his friends transformed the industrial space over the years, a transformation happened outside its walls as well. Crown Heights went from a crime-ridden, industrial neighborhood to a rapidly gentrifying area. Several similar warehouses on the same block as Mr. Clark's have been converted into condominiums and offices, and now Mr. Clark predicts he will be evicted in the next few years.

But no one seems worried about leaving. To those who live in and pass through the complex, Dean Street has become more a state of mind than an actual space.

“No one can stay in one place forever, but this will be something I'll never lose,” Mr. Young said. “I'll be able to take a piece of Dean Street with me and keep that inside.”

Mr. Clark is less sentimental about his seemingly inevitable departure. He believes that with all the skills he learned from rehabilitating the warehouse, he will simply create a new Dean Street somewhere else.

“I'm a very project-oriented guy,” he said. “And I'll be able to do the work faster next time.”

Kellam Clark has spent 13 years transforming the building into a haven for creative people.Eric Michael Johnson for The New York Times Kellam Clark has spent 13 years transforming the building into a haven for creative people.


Op-Doc: ‘Ode to Bike Sharing\'

In this animation, a New Yorker looks forward to the city's bike share program and reminisces about riding his bike when the city was very different. The back story of the video can be read here.



A Sidewalk Mystery, Solved

The untopped metal pole at Atlantic Avenue and Court Street in Brooklyn is a nonentity to some pedestrians but an annoyance to others.Andrea Mohin/The New York Times The untopped metal pole at Atlantic Avenue and Court Street in Brooklyn is a nonentity to some pedestrians but an annoyance to others.

Soon after the new year, Jonathan Lipsmeyer noticed something strange and new at the corner of Atlantic Avenue and Court Street in Brooklyn, where two of the borough's busier commercial strips meet.

Sloppily cemented but firmly bolted into the slanted lip of the curb on the southwest corner, a few yards from the entrance to Trader Joe's, was a somewhat tilted pole, about 5 feet tall and 5 inches across.

No sign, no light, just a silver, metal marker, built on an uneven patch of sidewalk and tilting into the flow of foot traffic like a miniature leaning tower of Cobble Hill.

As weeks passed, Mr. Lipsmeyer's puzzlement blossomed into irritation. He wrote to the office of Marty Markowitz, the borough president, but the correspondence was unenlightening.

“You look around to the other corners to see, is there some symmetrical plan here?” Mr. Lipsmeyer, a 39-year-old wine buyer who lives nearby, said recently. “But, no.”

Indeed, though the streetscape is cluttered with tall green bus stop markers, fat flare-based poles topped with traffic lights, battered bike racks and other protrusions, there is nothing quite like Mr. Lipsmeyer's headless pole, or half-pole, or whatever it is.

On Monday, shoppers and other walkers waited beside the pole for the light to change. Some shifted around it to get closer to the curb.

One pedestrian, Janice Behrens, had not noticed the pole until a reporter asked her about it. She studied it for a moment. “The top is sort of cut raw, it's totally not finished,” she said. “It's maybe going to be a street sign - a crooked street sign.”

David Balluff, who sells T-shirts on the sidewalk nearby, saw the pole's being set up. “It seemed fairly routine,” he said. “It was a construction crew; they dug up the area in a square, put in footings and poured concrete, and put in the pipe last. And then, nothing for months.”

On Tuesday, a city Transportation Department official revealed the pole's purpose: It will hold one of the chirping boxes known as accessible pedestrian signals that tell the visually impaired when it's safe to cross.

The official said that the department hoped to install wiring and other hardware and activate the signal in the coming weeks. She said the pole's slant would be inspected, too.

Until then, Mr. Lipsmeyer will have to tolerate the temporarily purposeless pole on his walk to work.

“People seem to have accepted it as part of the urban jungle labyrinth,” he conceded on Tuesday. “It's now part of the family.”

A version of this article appeared in print on 05/24/2013, on page A18 of the NewYork edition with the headline: A Sidewalk Mystery, Solved .

Saturday Night Benefit Planned for Coney Island Mermaid Parade

The Coney Island Mermaid Parade in 2010.Deidre Schoo for The New York Times The Coney Island Mermaid Parade in 2010.

What do Amanda Palmer, Abel Ferrara, Alt-Variety Magazine and Insectavora, the fire-eating tattooed lady, have in common? All of them will join forces on Saturday night at a fundraising benefit to support this year's endangered Mermaid Parade in Coney Island.

Since 1983, the parade has transformed the Coney Island boardwalk into a honky-tonk beauty pageant of bikini-clad sea-females (of various genders). This year, it is scheduled for June 22 but because of rising costs and because the headquarters organizers, Coney Island USA - the folks who run the local circus sideshow - were badly damaged by Hurricane Sandy, the event is in jeopardy of being canceled.

At the beginning of May, the sideshow started a Kickstarter campaign with the hope of raising $100,000 for the parade. By the end of last week, they had received more than 80 percent of that sum.  To help them reach their goal, Ms. Palmer, a multi-media artist formerly of the punk-cabaret band the Dresden Dolls, announced that she would host the Saturday night benefit from 7 to 11 p.m., on May 25, at the Bowery Ballroom on Delancey Street.

“This parade means so much to the NYC performer community, and I'd be devastated to see it defeated and washed away,” Ms. Palmer wrote in a press release. “This night will be a beautiful collision of helping and celebration and I can't wait to be among the people.” She added that she planned to show up in a mermaid outfit and “hopefully learn some mermaid-appropriate songs on the ukulele.”

Tickets are available at coneyisland.com. For more on the Kickstarter campaign, go to savemermaids.org.



A Well-Stamped Passport

Dear Diary:

My husband has been traveling overseas on business at least once a month for the past few years. His passport became so heavily stamped that he was forced to apply for a passport with extra visa pages.

As he was passing through passport control at J.F.K. this week, the guard looked him over and asked, “Are you married?” My husband nodded.

The guard slowly flipped through the bulky document. “How's that going?” he deadpanned.

Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via e-mail diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.



Tribute to Country Singer Evokes His Nickname: No-Show

George Jones, the legendary country musician, died in April.Mark Humphrey/Associated Press George Jones, the legendary country musician, died in April.

Even in death, George Jones was a no-show.

A tribute concert to Mr. Jones, the country singer who died last month, and was nicknamed No-Show for the performances he missed because of drinking and drugs, was canceled on Thursday, hours before it was to begin.

The promoters said city inspectors had shut down the bar where it was to take place, the Rodeo Bar, on Third Avenue at 27th Street.

“It's George working his powers from the grave,” said Boo Reiners, who had helped line up the musicians on the bill. “It was hard to get him to play New York City no matter how many tickets were sold. And it was funny to have this happen, because on Wednesday I was joking, ‘We should not do the show and have it be like No-Show Jones, ha, ha, ha.' ”

Mr. Reiners and Elena Skye, who together founded the Demolition String Band, have also arranged tributes to Kris Kristofferson and Glen Campbell - who are still alive - and groups as different as the Monkees and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

They had compiled binders with more than 30 songs, ready to hand to the performers as they arrived.

Mr. Reiners said they had commitments from Teddy Thompson, the guitar-playing son of the British folk song writers Richard and Linda Thompson; the singer Laura Cantrell; Charlene McPherson, the lead singer of a band called Spanking Charlene; and Aaron Lee Tasjan, a songwriter and guitarist.

But then came the bad-news call from Jack Grace, a singer and song writer who books performers for the Rodeo Bar; minutes later, Mr. Reiners sent a text message to the performers, saying the show had been called off.

Mr. Reiners said in the text message that Mr. Grace told him of a surprise inspection by the health department.

The inspectors had gone through the kitchen, Mr. Reiners wrote. “Then one of the inspectors crawled around on the floor in the trailer bar” - a cutaway trailer with a bartender working inside the metal shell - “and decided there is a structural problem,” the text message read.

The inspectors ordered the Rodeo Bar shut down, he said.

Mr. Grace said later that the owner, Mitch Pollak, had informed him in a text message that there was “heavy water damage” around the trailer and that the bar would be closed until next week.

But the health department said it had closed the Rodeo Bar because of a mouse infestation.

“I hope we don't have to lose the trailer,” Mr. Grace said. “That's been an icon of the place.”

Mr. Reiners said the George Jones tribute would be rescheduled.

A version of this article appeared in print on 05/25/2013, on page A16 of the NewYork edition with the headline: Tribute to Country Singer Evokes His Nickname: No-Show .

A ‘Sphere\' That Has Taken a Year to Roll Nowhere

Despite the beginning of renovation work at Battery Park, the David W. Dunlap/The New York Times Despite the beginning of renovation work at Battery Park, the “Sphere” remains.

The last word on the fate of Fritz Koenig's “Sphere” for the World Trade Center, installed in 2002 at Battery Park as the city's interim 9/11 memorial, came a year ago from Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg. “I think it's beautiful where it is,” he said.

One World Trade Center has been topped out in the time it has taken officials to decide what to do with the David W. Dunlap/The New York Times One World Trade Center has been topped out in the time it has taken officials to decide what to do with the “Sphere,” in the foreground.

And that's where it has remained. The “Sphere,” which was to have been moved in the late spring of 2012, is still in Battery Park. If officials at City Hall, the parks department, the Battery Conservancy, the Port Authority or the 9/11 Memorial have a plan to relocate the 25-foot sculpture - badly damaged when the twin towers crashed down around it on Sept. 11, 2001 - they have not disclosed it.

The National September 11 Memorial and Museum at the World Trade Center Foundation, of which Mr. Bloomberg is chairman, does not want the sculpture. “We fully, 100 percent support the ‘Sphere' being kept outside in a way the public can experience whenever they want to,” Joseph C. Daniels, the foundation president, said last year. “But it's not going to be incorporated in the eight-acre memorial plaza.”

He said the plaza, designed by Michael Arad, was not intended for such artifacts of the attack. Also, since the plaza doubles as a rooftop for the memorial museum and PATH station, a considerable amount of structural retrofitting might be required to accommodate the 22.5-ton artwork. It can't simply be plopped down.

The Battery Conservancy, headed by Warrie Price, does not want the “Sphere” in Battery Park, which it runs under contract with the parks department. Though the sculpture may be the biggest draw in the park after Castle Clinton, it was installed as an interim measure and has no place in the long-term renovation plan. The conservancy may also be concerned that Battery Park has so many memorials already that it will begin to feel like a necropolis.

Despite Ms. Price's opposition, and despite the fact that she is the administrator of Battery Park, she must ultimately defer to the parks department, which Mayor Bloomberg controls through the parks commissioner. So the “Sphere” stays.

The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, which owns the sculpture, considered returning the “Sphere” to Hangar 17 at Kennedy International Airport, where other large-scale artifacts of 9/11 have been stored. But Patrick J. Foye, the executive director, put a halt to that plan more than a year ago, in deference to the wishes of victims' family members.

He has since expressed general support for bringing the sculpture back to the trade center. But Mr. Foye has not elaborated on where, exactly, the “Sphere” might go, though the authority found a place for “America's Response Monument (De Oppresso Liber),” an equestrian bronze honoring the Army Special Forces in Afghanistan.

Commencement of the renovation of Battery Park was supposed to be the nonnegotiable deadline for a relocation plan, since the “Sphere” stands in the middle of the construction area. But work crews have devised a way around it, suggesting strongly that Mr. Bloomberg's last words a year ago were the last word indeed.

Badly damaged, the Archiv Fritz Koenig Badly damaged, the “Sphere” survived the attack on the World Trade Center of Sept. 11, 2001, and has been adopted by many as a symbol of resilience and hope.


Big Ticket | Diplomatic Crash Pad for $11.59 Million

The Portuguese government owned a unit at the Dakota for decades.Robert Caplin for The New York Times The Portuguese government owned a unit at the Dakota for decades.

In further fallout from Portugal's fiscal meltdown, a grand and gracious apartment at the revered Dakota that had been used for four decades by that nation's dignitaries as its Upper West Side diplomatic crash pad and entertainment hub sold - down to the penny - for $11,593,237.50 and was the most expensive sale of week, according to city records.

The eight-room residence at 1 West 72nd Street, No. 74, was listed for sale at $14.5 million last year and was reduced to $12.95 million in September. The monthly maintenance fee of $9,511 no doubt proved unsustainable to a government in the midst of fashioning a $107 billion bailout courtesy of the European Union and the International Monetary Fund.

The 3,600-square-foot apartment has three bedrooms, three baths and a powder room, along with three wood-burning fireplaces and the Dakota's typical complement of 12-foot ceilings, 10-foot-tall ash-and-mahogany doors, and elaborate mahogany woodwork and plaster moldings throughout. The 27-foot corner living room has Central Park views and a planting balcony, while the 24-foot dining room faces south; the bedrooms are all sequestered on a north wing. Pocket doors lead from the entrance gallery to a paneled library with a fireplace.

John Burger and Guida De Carvalhosa of Brown Harris Stevens represented the seller via its consulate general at 590 Fifth Avenue. The buyers are David Folkerts-Landau, the chief economist of the Deutsche Bank Group, and his wife, Maie Folkerts; their broker was Jason Haber of Rubicon Property.

Mr. Haber said the buyers, who live in London, intended to “make a museum-quality restoration.”

Big Ticket includes closed sales from the previous week, ending Wednesday.



In an Old Steam Plant, Providing a Home for the Many Cats of Pratt

Conrad Milster, the chief engineer at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, has become the caretaker of the many stray cats that like to frequent the school's steam plant.Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times Conrad Milster, the chief engineer at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, has become the caretaker of the many stray cats that like to frequent the school's steam plant.

After checking a multitude of old dials and meters down in the sprawling old steam plant, Conrad Milster, the plant's chief engineer, returned to his Dickensian office at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, and spied a hungry gray cat outside his window.

“This is Dulcie,” said Mr. Milster, 77, letting her in. “She comes in to eat and then goes somewhere else. A lot of these rascals have good deals set up here.”

These rascals are the Pratt cats, a population of ownerless cats that for decades have been padding around amid the historic buildings and lawn sculptures on campus, befriending students and faculty members.

The cats have become legendary at this school of art and design in Clinton Hill, as has the curious, century-old steam plant housed in the basement of East Hall that many of them call their home, or at least their student union.

“For some of them, this is sort of the backup lunch counter,” said Mr. Milster, a lanky Queens native with red mutton chops and grimy jeans and calloused hands.

Since 1958, he has operated the plant, which provides heat and hot water to the campus. He is a revered figure at Pratt for his tending of both the plant and the cats, and for his rigging of steam whistles to the system and blowing them off loudly on New Year's Eve for neighborhood residents.

The cats have become mascots to some students, including one called the Landlord, a snaggletoothed little guy who likes to keep watch over a Willoughby Street dorm. Then there are Lastat, Nicky, Teddy, Mickey and a cranky cutie known as Art School, who recently got soaked by an artist's bottle of linseed oil and had to be taken to a Park Slope veterinarian who treats the Pratt cats.

Given the cats' stature on campus, pangs of panic rippled through the school recently when school administrators told Mr. Milster that many cats would have to be removed because they were aggravating allergies suffered by staff members.

Many student and faculty members quickly circulated and signed petitions urging the administration to relent. Mr. Milster took three cats into the house that Pratt provides him on campus, where he already has about 18 cats rescued from campus over the years. Still, he was prepared to take in any other cats that might face removal, he said.

A Pratt spokeswoman said on Friday that, in response to the petitions, it was decided that the cats could remain, and that the allergy problem would be be addressed by the installation of air conditioners in the plant.

As Mr. Milster spoke with a reporter on Wednesday, several cats patrolled the balcony above the old plant's equipment. One arose from a snooze on a steam pipe and wandered in to nibble leftovers from Mr. Milster's sandwich.

“This is Prancey,” he said, “She usually sleeps upstairs in an art department office and comes down for meals. Yeah, they really know how to work the crowd here.”

But they also give back, he said, by helping to make Pratt feel like a family, he said, providing comfort to stressed-out students, especially after a fire in February damaged the Main Building and destroyed student art work inside.

“One of the few comforting things we had, after that, was the cats,” he said. “The students are very attached to these beasties. They have a real psychological value.”

Some estimates have put the number of cats in the dozens or even more than 100, but Mr. Milster said only a dozen frequent the steam plant.

“I'd have to count noses to be sure,” he said.

Some access the plant through utility tunnels under the campus. Others scoot in through his office window or with students through the building's main entrance. They seem to love the warmth, the loud thrum of the machines, and the litter boxes and food â€" dry and wet â€" that Mr. Milster leaves out for them, at his own expense. The cats are depicted in photographs throughout the plant, including an homage to Big Momma, a huge black-and-white female who lived in the machine shop and died recently.

The original plant was built in 1887 and its steam-driven generators, installed in 1900, are thought to be the oldest in the Northeast. It serves as something of a museum piece and drawing subject for Pratt students, with its flywheels, glass-encased dials and pressure gauges, huge pipes and pistons.

“It's really a 19th-century power plant,” Mr. Milster said, walking through the plant. “If this stops in the winter, Pratt stops.”

The cats seem to instinctively avoid electrical current and moving parts, he said, adding, “You could say they know more than human beings about respecting the machinery.”

Decades ago, he and his wife began taking in cats dumped on campus, or left behind by departing students. They would neuter them for possible adoption. They would take sick or nuisance cats to their home, and at one point had more than 50 living with them, he said. They enjoyed entering the healthier ones in shows, and Mr. Milster hung dozens of prize ribbons in the plant's front window. He removed them recently when the cat controversy began, to lower the cats' profile. But now, he said, he may hang them back up.

“These are not just street strays,” he said above the hum of his steam engines. “These are prize winners.”



Coney Island, 2:57 P.M.

Bryan Thomas for The New York Times

True, the weather has not been too beachy the last few days. Nor is it supposed to be on Saturday.

But there is a bright side: May has been yet another banner month for weather fans. Just ask Stephen Fybish, City Room's persistent weather historian, who left a message Friday afternoon informing us that we had just achieved what weather historians (some of them, anyway) refer to as a “super-highlight switcheroo.” To wit:

“We have now gone from the fifth-driest April, with 1.31 inches, to what is already the ninth-wettest May. The total precip through 4 p.m. at the park for this month is 7.23 inches.”

That is quite a swing, Mr. Fybish. When was the last time that happened?

“Not since 1980 has there been such a turnaround from a dry month to a wet month. Because in 1980, they had the third-driest February, and that had a whopping 1.04 inches, and then they went to what was then the wettest of all Marches, 10.41 inches.”

With that, we wish you a great, or solemnly observant, weekend, as you see fit. And note that Sunday is supposed to be sunny. Maybe.



Week in Pictures for May 24

Here is a slide show of photographs from the past week in New York City and the region. Subjects include the New York Aquarium, a nightclub in a Chelsea water tower, and an aerial view of beachfront homes in Mantoloking, N.J.

This weekend on “The New York Times Close Up,” an inside look at the most compelling articles in Sunday's Times, Clyde Haberman will speak with The Times's Eleanor Randolph, Michael Barbaro, Michael M. Grynbaum and Matt Flegenheimer. Also, Senator Kirsten E. Gillibrand; Janette Sadik-Khan, New York City's transportation commissioner; and Colin Quinn, a writer, comedian and performer. Tune in at 10 p.m. Saturday or 10 a.m. Sunday on NY1 News to watch.

A sampling from the City Room blog is featured daily in the main print news section of The Times. You may also read current New York headlines, like New York Metro | The New York Times on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.



Some of His Best Customers Are Canine

Pete Van LeeuwenMichael Nagle for The New York Times Pete Van Leeuwen

Pete Van Leeuwen started Van Leeuwen Artisan Ice Cream in 2008 with his brother Ben, their partner, Laura O'Neill, and two classic yellow trucks. Now in their sixth year of business, they have six trucks and three stores in Brooklyn and Manhattan, as well as a Balinese restaurant (Selamat Pagi) in the front of their production facility. The first summer Mr. Van Leeuwen drove around, scooping ice cream. These days, with the food truck boom in New York City and their growing business - just this week they introduced vegan ice cream - Mr. Van Leeuwen, 36, spends his time organizing and troubleshooting, with occasional breaks for a pistachio cone, his favorite flavor.

Q.

Are people surprised there really is a Van Leeuwen?

A.

They're oftentimes like, “That's not your real last name, is it?” Of course it is! I think it's because of the Haagen-Dazs thing. Everybody is now aware that Haagen-Dazs is this made up - brilliantly made up - name. People think we're doing the Dutch thing too.

In fact, early on I was not convinced that Van Leeuwen would be a good name to use, because it was hard to spell. How were people going to look us up, Google it, find us?

Q.

What's the most popular ice cream flavor?

A.

Vanilla, just as you'd expect. It's a known fact and we see it to be true as well. Even in New York City, where people are way more adventurous and used to more interesting flavors, different flavors and trying new things.

Q.

About those adventurous flavors. Do children like gourmet ice cream?

A.

Oh yeah. They do. Dogs, too. We have a lot of dog customers who come up. We give dogs free tastes of ice cream, little tasting spoons full. I've seen it happen: they see the truck before the owner does, and are pulling the owner up and jump up on the counter waiting for their taste.

Q.

How was it different having a truck five years ago, versus now?

A.

Five years ago, we pulled up to the sidewalk on Greene Street between Prince and Spring and a line formed immediately, and basically we had a line that lasted all summer.

And now there's not quite as much of this frenzied excitement from the customers and people walking by on the street. Chances are they've walked by several trucks that day. And others are now making beautiful trucks and eye-catching trucks.

Also with all of these other food trucks, they follow what works. If they see a truck on Bedford Avenue being successful, they say: let's go to Bedford Ave - and all of the sudden you have this caravan of trucks up and down on every single block.

And then five years ago, where it used to be tolerated, that one truck was in a 10-block span, maybe the precinct gets one phone call a day from an angry resident or an upset business owner. Now the precinct is slammed with phone calls from every single block. So then they have to say, “We have a problem here, what do we have to do about it? We have to enforce the laws which say no vending from metered parking.” So they go down and ticket every truck over and over again, until you submit and you leave.

Q.

How do you figure out where to park the trucks? Is there competition or fighting?

A.

I'm always scouting spots. The parking signs. The businesses around. See if there's a guy on the corner selling pretzels and water. They see us as competition, even though it's not.

We had a big to-do at our Fifth Avenue spot about four years ago, when we started the coffee thing. This guy who was selling dollar cups of coffee and dollar bagels thought we were ruining his business. The fact is, it's two completely different demographics who will buy a four dollar latte or a dollar cup of coffee. And he was just fighting, fighting us to the point that it's not worth it. He actually ended up slashing our tires. That's the worst it's ever gotten.

Q.

How much of your truck business is events - weddings or ice cream at Google?

A.

One of the best things about the truck business is that you are this rolling, catered dessert. We go as far as 100 miles for the right price. People for a wedding way upstate, all the way up on the island, or whatever, will hire a truck. That's a big part of the business. It's certainly one of the things that make the trucks worth it because those are relatively stress-free. There's no permits needed, there's no health department issues and policing. As long as we can get the truck there, get the generator on, it's going to be great.

Q.

Do you remember the first cone you sold?

A.

I think I do. It was before we figured out how to manage the temperatures of the freezer really well, because protein-y flavors will get harder than others. Mint chip will melt the fastest because there's a little bit of alcoholic extract in it, and the ginger softens up, but the pistachio and chocolate might be rock hard. Before getting used to this, I remember settling in, register is ready, opening the window and somebody asks for a chocolate, and it's like trying to chip rock, literally. It's like chipping at rock, and you're like, “Oh god, I'm sorry, the ice cream is too hard.” So, that happened a couple of times before we figured that part out.

Q.

What's the hardest problem you've had to troubleshoot or solve?

A.

I would say it's just this ongoing thing of juggling and maintaining our employees and scheduling them, because of the permitting issue - it takes three months before they are legally allowed to start working - and because it's seasonal. There's really only 3 or 4 months of any definitive schedule, which is June 1 to September, when we're going to be out every single day. It's just massive organization and scheduling. It also frustrates our staff.

Q.

Are trucks or stores a better business?

A.

At this point, I would say stores are a better business. However, we would have never been able to open a store if we didn't have the trucks first. We just didn't have the capital.

I can be stressed and complain about it, but at the end of the day it still feels good. I like this idea of having a roving team selling our ice cream. It's pretty awesome to be able to roll up to SoHo. Feels good, play music. People are psyched to come up and get ice cream. The trade-off is I don't have to pay $50,000 to have a space there. But, instead, I have less peace of mind and it's more stressful. It's a monetary and stress trade-off. When it is working and balanced, it feels good.

This interview has been condensed and edited.

A version of this article appeared in print on 05/26/2013, on page MB2 of the NewYork edition with the headline: Some of His Best Customers Are Canine.