Lead-poisoned playing fields. Here’s the NY Times story from earlier this month.
The meeting of renovation, refuse, and reflexivity is as historically common an event in Lower Manhattan as the hailing of a taxi cab. The condition pictured above simply would not do in most cities, the open façade looking out over not much at all. In Manhattan, however, while we enjoy our fried halloumi or the like over brunch, I sense that this kind of juxtaposition is tolerated because we always have each other to look at.