When I was growing up, I had no sense of scope about the history attached to New York City (or state), nor did I realize how old and famous it really is around the world, because why would I? Sesame Street was a kid's show about a city block that had large animals in garbage pails (like the nightly raccoon raids at our house), narrated by a girl named "Maria", of the same name in the musical West Side Story. Bugs Bunny had a whip smart comeback to every quip that was delivered in a cool cartoon version of our accent, King Kong regularly climbed our tallest buildings, Batman fought for our fair Gotham's streets to be safe, Spiderman spun webs everywhere, and The Ramones just wanted to go to the beach badly on a musician's dime.
It was either a t.v. show, or a movie, or a play, or your favorite song. Was there anything else? Who cares? We had everything you could think of named after or devoted to our culture. So when I saw this old shit nailed to a post nearby, I knew it was some crusty, rusty relic from our past, but what it actually was? That I had no idea.
I went in for closer look, at first to take a picture of a funny bumper sticker on a truck parked in the mechanic's garage that operates next door, and there it was; a bright orange spot in the sun. Ever wonder what a switch box from the first electric poles that delivered early currents to old farmhouses converting over to the new power grid looked like, back when it was new? Now you do.
