what kind of house is this ?

 Where I have come to roam?”

“It’s not a house,” said Judas Priest
“It’s not a house . . . it’s a home”
(Bob Dylan)

you know when i rambled around europe with the US Navy in the late 80's i always walked the streets of these ancients cities and tried to transport my brain back in time to the days of wine and roses.....in Jerusalem i thought of Jesus and Pilot and the Crucifixion and looked at ancient buildings and wondered who had built them and who may have lived in them......in Palermo i thought of General Patton.....and the allies that passed through..in Nairobi i thought of Hemmingway and wondered if i was drinking in a hotel bat that he may have frequented......France, Turkey, Spain , Greece.....same story......buildings that seemed to be hundreds or even thousands of years old and i felt it was my duty to ponder the existence of people i had never met....i read every placque on every monument i passed.....it mattered once.....someone cared enough to erect it or build it.....i could at least stop and think about it.

Bayridge has been turning over new leaves since....well probably since it's existence.....Brooklyn itself seems to be a pass through stop on the evolution road.....stop, drop and roll..........when my parents sold the only home i had ever known in 1989 i avoided walking down that block for the next 5 years or so......as if i was a tresspasser.......now when time permits on sweater nite weekend i allow myself one quick stroll down memory lane past 554.....but it's all too weird.....i do it to spark a memory of a neighbor or an event that may be buried in subconscious.

the 200 series on 73rd street between Ridge Blvd and 3rd Avenue is one of those blocks that is bursting at the seems with memories, families and wild Characters of the Night.......too many to list or recall....but for the short time i lived on 73rd between colonial and narrows , that block was my part of navigation system home , whether i was coming from the subway or the bars , i would walk down that block..and memories would come flowing back.....i'd peer at the windows of homes i used to frequent and smile.....even as the neighborhood changed and people moved away  there was always a familiar face at the house numbered 221........sadly this week that house has changed hands.....for the first time since approx 1963 there is No Longer a Woods in residence...and that is sad....i wonder in the future on some quiet sunday morning....when the new owners are drinking coffee in the dining room and reading the paper.....will they hear the familiar THUD of someone dribbling a basketball in the bedroom above....

"time rolls on, and the band played on.....somebody's favorite tune" ( Jorma)