I could live on Roosevelt Island and ride the sky tram into Manhattan every day. It might get old, though can't imagine ever stepping onto a sky tram with that kind of view and sighing, Ugh, not this again. Fucking sky tram.
Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, Pressure Cooker
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers
Rocket from the Tombs, Barfly and The Day the Earth Met Rocket from the Tombs
Mclusky, Mclusky Do Dallas
Art Brut, Brilliant! Tragic!
The Bent Moustache, Forst
Patti Smith, Just Kids
Micachu and the Shapes, Never
Eleanor Friedberger, Last Summer
This whole Roosevelt Island fantasy was spawned by a passage in terrible, riveting Just Kids where Patti and Robert go out to the ruins of the mental hospital on Welfare Island, as it was originally called, and abscond with a fetus in a glass jar because they are young and artists and fascinated by and are going to make art and poetry out of things all the time, ALL THE TIME, and then Robert drops is on the sidewalk just outside their apartment and it shatters on the street. Smooth move, Robert Mapplethorpe! I bet that was a fascinating mess to clean up on the sidewalk. Patti says he sent her upstairs so he could clean up fifty-year-old pickled fetus mess, but you know he just looked around and whistled to himself doo-de-doo and kicked that mess into at the nearest storm drain.
Edison surveys the place in 1903 when it was Blackwell's Island, before it was Welfare Island, before it was Roosevelt Island.
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I walked around it in Google Maps last night. Looks nice. They have a Starbucks and a Duane Reade. And New York City handy. By sky tram.
Maybe I could ride in with Eleanor Friedberger every day and we'd be transit friends. She seems a little like Patti Smith but more chill, as Roosevelt Island is to the rest of the city.