In 2012 Fort Greene was a friendly neighborhood. People said hello to each other. I smiled greetings, glad to be here. It was a ‘we’ world, although I wished I was in Thailand with my family.
Across the street an elderly Trinidadian woman collected beer cans and bottles for the deposit money. I gave Jinny all my empties, at least ten a week. At five cents a can my annual contribution added up to $25.
One rainy afternoon I exited from the Fort Greene Observatory, Ginny was struggling to drag her cart loaded with plastic soda bottles onto the sidewalk. Her daily effort financed her yearly visit to the casino. She loves the slots.
“Wait there,” I shouted and walked over to help maneuver her load out of the street.
“Thank you, sweetie.” She smiled and scurried back to her basement apartment, “I have something for you. Watch my things.”
“Sure.” I estimated that she had collected over two hundred bottles this morning or $10 for her battle with the one-armed bandits of Aqueduct. Thirty seconds later she emerged from her flat with a plastic bag.
“This is for you.” Ginny handed me a bottle of Manischewitz Concord Grape Wine, 100% kosher for Passover.
“Thank you.” I accepted the bottle with gratitude. No one had given me a Christmas gift let alone a Passaich gift. “I’ll drink a toast to you with my landlord AP.”
“He is such a good man. And those children are lovely.”
“Yes, they are.” I pointed to her cart. “You need any help with that?”
“No, I’m going down to Pathway to redeem the money. I think I might go to the casino on New Year’s Day.”
“Then I wish you luck.” 2013 was a long way away.
I returned to AP’s brownstone and showed my friend the bottle.
“Man O Manischewitz.” AP made a face. He was used to better wines.
“I can’t remember the last time I drank it. It must have been back in the Zapple and Boone’s Farm years.” I examined the bottle for percentage of alcohol. “It says 11%. Care for a glass?”
“Not right now.” He had just eaten pasta with clams for lunch, which calls for white wine and certainly not glatt kosher wine. Of course clams are tref, but AK loved his seafood and bacon too.
“Later?” I hated drinking alone.
“Much later.”
I had no reason to wait and cracked open the bottle in the top-floor apartment. The bouquet was pure sweetness. I poured a glass and brought it to my lips. A simple sip renditioned me back to 1966.
Man O Manischewitz.
Some things in life never change.
“Here’s to you, Ginny.”