A Walk in Poughkeepsie, Main Street 12:41-12:56 PM Tuesday 9/25
The weather is sunny, warm and breezy. The buildings are all connected, typical for a downtown area. I notice a building that stands out because its facade is tan with arches for windows and the doorway. It looks as if it belongs in a Spanish or Mexican village, rather than here on Main Street in Poughkeepsie. There is moderate traffic. There is a building on my right with old looking architecture. It is closed, with the windows covered by cardboard or construction paper, and a sign declares that it is for rent. There are some pedestrians, including a woman pushing her baby in a jogging stroller. One building that catches my eye is a combination of HSBC and the United States Bankruptcy Court for the Southern District of New York. I see some traffic cones on a corner, some stacked, some solitary. One of the solitary ones has been ornamented with an old bicycle seat. A very friendly black man passes my friend and me on the sidewalk and greets us with “Hello ladies. How are you doing today?” We respond in kind, slightly confused. I had been under the impression that people don’t say hello to strangers in urban areas. I notice three unique sculptures on the other side of the street. One is a modern sculpture of twisted, curving black metal. The middle one is a bronze statue of a heroic looking man. The third one is an uneven sphere of what appears to be slate bricks. My attention is drawn to a small group of black men talking loudly, leaning against a car with doors that open upward, parallel to the body of the car. They look at us suspiciously as we pass them. Almost everyone we notice on the walk seems to be staring at us, possibly because I am looking around attentively while writing for an unknown reason and possibly because my friend and I are in the racial minority. The smell of food from various cuisines is ever-present, combining with the background odors of car exhaust and cigarette smoke. I walk past an old, abandoned looking bus stop made of black metal with decorative spirals and glass. Storefronts have colorful new architecture including pillars and cornices as part of the restoration of the city, I imagine. I notice a very old sign for Poughkeepsie Pawnbrokers. It looks like it may have hung where I see it today since the 1950s at least. The bright blue trim of the Acapulco Restaurant, which has an imitation Mexican architectural style, stands out among the common themes of tan, brick red, and grey. A sign in a store window announces, “No Standing in Front of Store,” and a large black man in a white T-shirt with black ear buds defies the sign’s command by loitering on the corner near the store. I assume he is waiting for someone, since he is still standing on that corner when my friend and I head back to my car. There is a beautiful mural on the side of a building labeled “Congress.” For about half a block, the buildings on one side of the street are identical. Their facades are a pattern of tan and red bricks. The buildings are probably residential. I see an interesting sign called Twisted Out Food Concepts, and some of the letters are deliberately upside down. I pass an alley that looks like it would be terrifying to find yourself in after dark. Some of the places I see are a wig shop with heads of manikins in the windows, a second hand shop called Second Hand Rose, and a Jamaican Café. I pass two middle-aged women talking animatedly on the sidewalk. A man on a bike that seems too small for him passes us on the sidewalk. Immediately after, I walk by two black men talking. As before, they give my friend and me a suspicious glance. The larger of the men leans against the wall of a building and the smaller stands astride his bike. This man is wearing sunglasses with rhinestones glittering on the frames. A mailman on foot walks by us, toting his mailbag. I see a group of black men across the street, one of whom has his red sweatshirt on top of his head, perhaps as a sunshade. A black man wearing a Red Sox shirt with matching sweatpants greets my friend and me in a friendly manner. Again I am surprised by this casual greeting from a stranger in a city. I notice a boxing gym called Snoops. In the sign for the gym, the Os are replaced with boxing gloves. I see the well-kept Public Safety Facility building, ironically situated right next to a run-down apartment building, possibly abandoned. I notice an apartment building with a store of some kind below it. The side wall is most visible from my angle, and the air conditioners and satellite dishes on the wall catch my gaze. A car drives past us, blaring rap music. The last things I notice before we turn around to head back to the car are a red SUV with flames painted on the sides and a small business that offers African hair braiding.
