The Crusading Composter

Stephanos Koullias is running a little late, so when he parks his Bucky Buckaw Work Trike on the sidewalk at the Sunnyside Greenmarket, he jumps off and jogs across the street, high-fiving the autumn sky. In a flash, he’s back with the collapsible tent, which looks like one of those fold-up thingies you hang wash on to dry, and green garbage pails to set up the booth for the Western Queens Compost Initiative, a group he and his environmentally minded friends founded. Stephanos, as long and…

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The Down-to-Earth Traveling Salesman

In the living room, kneeling against the ruby red wall, is a Thai goddess. Above her head, in golden frames that match the trim of her royal raiment, are three Chilean oil paintings — the Virgin Mary and Jesus in the center and an archangel on each side. On the ground, grazing on the Turkey carpet, is a herd of wooden elephants from Africa. When Rambo and Daisy Mae, two cheeky Chihuahua mixes, lead Joseph M. Santana inside, the goddess smiles a cheery welcome with her cherry lips. Joseph and…

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The Super-Human Handyman

Bigger than a dinosaur. Faster than DSL. Able to knock down tall buildings with a single blow. Cera The Bull chuckles, and the room shakes. These things that people say about him may be a slight exaggeration. But be careful; they may be true. Let’s try not to put it to the test. Sead Cerovic, aka Cera The Bull, is indeed a big guy. His 6-foot-2 frame stands on 240 pounds of monumental muscle. With his Popeye arms, piercing blue-grey eyes, long, straggly jet-black hair and earring, he looks…

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The Girl Fumi Fell For

The black lacquer coffee table is covered with a piece of chocolate-brown burlap. Boxes of vintage buttons and beads are scattered about. Asami Hotta, cheerleader cute, kicks off her flip-flips and flips her long dark hair behind her head. Seated on a brown-leather footstool, she picks up a petite pair of pliers, and with the skill of a neurosurgeon, starts turning the bits into a piece of one-of-a-kind costume jewelry. “I love antique things,” she says, unscrewing the lid of a jam jar…

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The Trespassing Teens

My friends in Connecticut always talk about the wildlife that raids their yard. Deer, rabbits, moles and foxes — this is the city, I don’t have to contend with such pedestrian pests. Every weekday from September to May, my small patch of property is overrun with none other than the Trespassing Teens. There is a Catholic high school whose back faces my back yard, and when the school bell utters its shrill ear-splitting peal every afternoon, the Trespassing Teens, traveling in packs of…

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