tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-683382864156505640.post7800968712793070185..comments2023-08-14T11:44:27.299-04:00Comments on Jeremiah's<br> Vanishing New York: Bike Repair 1989Jeremiah Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11791516443125872364noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-683382864156505640.post-33497913945622170702009-12-02T13:50:31.474-05:002009-12-02T13:50:31.474-05:00Hank was such a big muffin - I forgot about him un...Hank was such a big muffin - I forgot about him until now. Thanks!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-683382864156505640.post-81149831506497247012009-12-01T07:35:03.482-05:002009-12-01T07:35:03.482-05:00Romy, thanks for sharing your memory of Hank!Romy, thanks for sharing your memory of Hank!Jeremiah Mosshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11791516443125872364noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-683382864156505640.post-68872866098683952072009-11-30T16:05:20.189-05:002009-11-30T16:05:20.189-05:00Gosh, what a treasure to find, the picture of Hank...Gosh, what a treasure to find, the picture of Hank. And I remember the bike repair guy very well too. In 1987/88, I lived on East 7th Street between C and D, so I used to see those guys all the time. I loved Hank very much. Sometimes he hung out in front of the bar there, in the doorway, but very often he hung out on cars just like in that picture. I don't remember how I knew his name was Hank, but Hank was a guy everybody in the neighborhood knew. He had a real style all his own, he reminded me of Mickey Rourke the way he was in the Pope of Greenwich Village, or Buke the Puke (that's my pet name for C. Bukowski) and I always said, "Hey, Hank," when I passed him. Usually he was snoozin, so he didn't often acknowledge me, but once in a while he would. He would look me in the eye and bang his tail on the hood of the car twice, and when that happened, I was elated. It was a little like saying, "Hey" to Joey Ramone out on the street and having him say, "Hey" back. It just felt good. At that same time, there was an infamous laundromat on East 7th Street, and I was so innocent in some ways, that I used to actually do laundry in there. And the dope dealer who ran the joint was so sweet to me, I remember. He hung out on the steps in front of the place as cool as Hank, and when I would come with my laundry bag, he'd get up and hold the door for me. I could go on and on, but I shall leave off here, and thank you again for the picture of dear old Hank.Romyhttp://walkersinthecity.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-683382864156505640.post-1698088887297002472009-11-30T07:42:46.560-05:002009-11-30T07:42:46.560-05:00Excellent find, Jeremiah!Excellent find, Jeremiah!EV Grievehttp://evgrieve.comnoreply@blogger.com