Samantha and Gloria loved the beach.

They could spend all day there, and September really was the best time of the year to get outside. By then people had largely decided the summer was over, and even at New York’s Coney Island you could find a quiet section of the beach on a weekday. A good book, a little water, some snacks… and your girl! What more did anyone need?

Of course, no one really knew how close Sam and Gloria were. They didn’t need to. That was between them. Private. Mind your own business kind of stuff. And their people probably wouldn’t understand.

They’d both been into boys before, but for the most part men couldn’t be counted on. All they wanted was one thing. You let them downtown and then they were waving bye-bye. On to the next chica.

And that was that: separately they’d both decided no more men. No thank you!

It was a surprise really: they’d been just friends for so long that they felt like sisters, but one day Sam realized just how beautiful Gloria really was: inside and out. And she started looking at her a little differently. She thought she was going crazy, but it seemed like Gloria was looking at her a little differently too. The rest had seemed so natural. And their friendship was tighter than ever. Sisters forever. Together. For real.

Found beneath the BQE in Sunset Park, Brooklyn amidst the thick smog of construction vehicles and the relentless noise of the traffic above.

Click here or the image above to see the full strip.

“Holy. Shit.” thought Coach Dixon.

It was not the first time that afternoon that he had thought he might have a heart attack and drop dead on the gleaming parquet.

His boys had played their hearts out, and he knew that if they’d lost this one that that would be the end of their will to play. He didn’t, however, have the heart to tell them to set their sites low.

They hadn’t won a game all season… that’s 14 games without a win. That’s gonna shake a young man’s confidence. To the core.

But there it was, 14 point for both teams and Lil’ Duane, legs set wide, stooped at the free throw line, with a bucket percentage of 24%. It seemed that time was moving an order of magnitude more slowly than it should have, and Coach Dixon wasn’t the only one holding his breath.

A tilt of the head, a flick of the wrist, and the sphere was loose.

And as the ball followed its inevitable gravity-defined arc, curving, spinning, and occupying its rightful place in three dimensional space, the crowd frenzied itself to stillness.

In that instant, when leather met nylon, Duane Shahome forever became known as Lil’ Money to the boys that made up The Navy Yard Boys Basketball team.

Go Lil’ Money, go!

With no thanks to the ever growing wave of digital camera use, this was found nestled in a clump of leaves between Atlantic and Fulton Streets in Brooklyn – not far from Ratner’s impending basketball themed Palace of Sport.

For a moment I really had a hard time believing what I’d found… could someone really have lost this?!?

I looked around as though someone might come running down the block, shouting for me to give them back, but there it was… a thick manilla folder containing two x-rays of a man’s head.

And what a head: full of metal ingots and their ghastly anchors… all the proof needed to dissuade one from becoming a professional mixed martial artist.

Sure, Heydar was living his dream: fighting in front of audiences of 30-40, sometimes 100 people! That was practically more than the whole population of his village back in Iran. His mother would cry, yes, but his father would be proud – he was living up to his namesake – the Lion! His body ached, however, and when he looked in the mirror he wondered how one so young (he was 28) could feel so old (he felt like 60).

Seven 800mg ibuprofen, a large cup of coffee, a few hours in the gym and he would almost forget the agony he suffered climbing out of bed each morning. He was certain, after all, that he would secure a contract with one of the big American fighting outfits, and then from there it was only a matter of time until the belt was his (the women, the money, the cars… but he didn’t speak of those things to his family).

(click the thumbnails below to enlarge…)

Alejandro loved his children.

It really was as simple as that, and so it was no surprise that he carried a picture of his only son, Nueve, in his wallet.

Nueve, which of course, meant 9 in English, was a nod to Nueve’s role in his families lineage: he was the ninth son born to the same blood line, and big things were expected of him. He was the one they hoped would “make it”. There was only one problem… Nueve was a girl.

No one knew: Alejandro would never let anyone know.

The styles of the time allowed for little boys to wear their hair long, and Neuve understood the importance of maintaining the facade: it was fun, it was a game.

Alejandro worried about the future as he stumbled slightly on the irregular rise of the stone step.

Found in the shadows of Huayna Picchu, wind-pressed to one of the many steps of Peru’s pre-Columbian Incan wonder, Machu Picchu.

Diane: “How much asparagus comes with the truffled potato and duck dish?”

Waiter: “Approximately 5-7 spears, m’am.”

Diane: “I see… and are there nuts in the ‘Coddled Cod’… which, by the way, is an adorable name for a dish…”

Waiter: “Pine nuts to be precise: it is one of our signatures and Chef Seamus is quite fond of alliteration – he originally has a background in literature!”

Diane: “NOOOO! Ooooh, a renaissance man. Jaime, did you hear that?!? Literature!”

Jaime: “Hmmm.”

Diane and Jaime Hilgenbra had been married for 15 years: most of them good, and some of them wonderful. They were the proud parents of two children, now in college (one at State, and one off to Hamilton, upstate… studying social something or other). They were good people who had lead decent and honest lives – save for that one little indiscretion that Jaime had had, but that was years ago, and what Diane didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her… after all, he DID love her – he knew that. Jaime worked as the front office man for the construction contracting business he had started with his brother, Robert, 12 years prior, and Diane was the receptionist and billing “department” for Dr. Cross’ dental practice near the center of town. Diane ordered the “Coddled Cod” with a small garden salad, and in the end Jaime ordered the chicken stuffed with haggis, wrapped in ham – they split a molten chocolate cake and two glasses of champagne for desert… which they had first. It was their 15 year anniversary after all.

Found fluttering in ankle high grasses on the Long Island Expressway as I stepped from the car to relieve my aching bladder.

“Was kind of into it until you had to make it all personal with the ‘where I pee’ commentary.”

I’d like to introduce you to Lil’ Jerome Nevins.

He’s kind of a loner, and has a weird streak a mile wide, but we like him. You know… we click.

LJN, as his friends call him, has kindly agreed to intermittently share some pearls of wisdom with us, to drop some knowledge, to educate the masses, and enlighten the proles.

He’s a good man(child), so keep your eyes and ears open to what he has to say.

He’ll be hitting the soap box here at Clogvert soon and sharing his insights! Stay tuned.

“Over the hill and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go…”

That was the first thing I thought when I picked this picture up.

Nigel, Jerome, and Akwon loved their grandmother, and there was no question that she loved them. Visiting “Gram” was always an event to be looked forward to – they would crowd around her chair while Jeopardy blared in the background… “I love that Alex Trebec,” grandma would coo. There were always cookies – the good kind with chocolate and nuts – well, the nuts weren’t so great, but the chocolate was. Grandma loved Alex Trebec, but Grandma really loved her sweets. The thing that a child’s mind rarely registered though was that with each passing visit Grandma moved less and less… sometimes never so much as rising from her chair all weekend long. Akwon would wonder at night, “how does Gram go to the bathroom?”

Found on Vanderbilt St. in Brooklyn’s Fort Greene area, as the sun waned and the Spring had begun to sprung.

Not one strip, but two… YES, two (2) strips for the price of one.

Step right up, step right up, and be prepared to be amazed, for this will surely shock and surprise.

Croatia this time of year can be a harsh place and Svetlana had so longed to see the riches of the US. Now that she was pregnant it seemed like the time was right, and she knew that Yuri would never say no to his new bride, especially if she was certain to mention the various different aircraft on the giant museum docked on the shores of Manhattan! She had already reached out and contacted her old friend Volte, about the possibility of staying with her and her boyfriend. Svetlana was so looking forward to this trip: there would be romance (or at least the best they could manage in her state), adventure, laughter, but most of all, there would be America!

Found between a curb and the tire of an idling Lincoln Towncar outside of a car service in Williamsburg, Brooklyn – home to annoying hipsters.

Click here (1) and here (2) to see the strips for what they really are.

Every time I find a strip of film it is the same: I am ecstatic to have found such a “gem”, I eagerly hold the strip to the nearest light source and peer closely to see what I will, and I then feel it… in the back of my head, “should you really be doing this?”

And yet still I go on.

In this case do these boys hold an heirloom, or some item found that helped them pass the time? Does one, or all, actually know how to play the instrument? Can we assume that these boys live nearby? I recognize the street as the one on which I work… which seems so very surreal.

Found swirling amidst leaves and the remnants of a pack of Camel Lights in Greenpoint, Brooklyn – a traditionally Eastern European enclave. A woman stumbled past as I bent to pick the strip up – I believe she had suffered from a stroke and yet seemed no older than me.

Simply click the above image or here to see the full strip.

What is it about a resume? In a way it’s disturbing: sum yourself up in a few words… preferably kept to one page, two if absolutely necessary, because, really, no one will read much more than that! No one wants to know more about you.

Leticia Harris wants to help – she wants someone to take a chance and to see that she is willing to work hard… harder than most. If interested, please contact her at the number listed. References available upon request.

Found skittering across the sidewalk at the corners of Flatbush and Carlton Avenues, still in its protective mylar sheath.