Author: ruhlwrite

The central aisle of Norwood Rexall Drugs is long and narrow like a train tunnel. It leads straight to Syed Naqvi. The pharmacy counter is tall. Syed is not. Syed came from Pakistan in 1972. You can see only the top of his head under the blue-blooded PRESCRIPTION sign. Syed, who took over the shop nearly 40 years ago, is just as much a fixture as the weight and horoscope machine at the front door. It, too, is a relic of the past: It no longer tells the future, but feed it a nickel, and you can…

Continue Reading →

It’s the starving part of artist that Daniel Francis finds hard to stomach. His hang-dog jeans, cuffed at the ankles to take up the slack, were made for a much weightier man, the one he used to be. Daniel has made art his work. He saw an old picture of himself recently and was aghast because his head looked like one of those round balloons you see in comic strips. He doesn’t want to be that guy again, but now when he turns sideways, you can’t see him. This is problematic because,…

Continue Reading →

It takes a while for Violeta M. Mileo to answer the front door. She has to walk down two flights of stairs, and she’s being extra careful. A couple of months ago, she fell and gouged her shoulder. She ended up in the emergency room. Vincent and Violeta have been together 40 years. That time, and this, she should have taken the chair lift that was installed for her husband, Vincent, but she doesn’t like to make anyone wait. That includes Vincent, who is standing on the top landing. He’s…

Continue Reading →

The Tamale Lady. That’s what everyone calls the weary young-old woman who pushes her shopping cart to the middle of the block and sets up on the sidewalk, selling breakfast for $1 and $2. The Tamale Lady at her Astoria Boulevard station. She does have a name. It may or may not be Idalia Garcia. It’s not important. But her story is. Idalia has been The Tamale Lady for three of the nine years she has called America her home. Her family was poorer than poor, and she had a pretty hard life…

Continue Reading →

People stop and stare and hold their babbling babies up to the wrought-iron railing. It’s not every day you see a koi pond on Ditmars Boulevard. Or a garden that looks as though it outgrew . Yes, there are koi in the pond. The haute design continues inside, where the books in the way-too-cool-for-Astoria living room are artfully arranged by color (red, blue, purple and white), and the deep hue of the Gerbera daisy in the vase on the side table matches the burnt-orange curtains in the dining…

Continue Reading →