Is That Me . . . Or Just That Foul-Smelling Ginkgo?

A civic-minded group starts the heavy lifting of eradicating vomitous female ginkgos from the city:

Ten per cent of all trees in Manhattan are ginkgos, making it the borough’s third-most-common species. There is also the matter of its odor. Each fall, the mature female — as dioecious gymnosperms, ginkgos come in genders — produces ovules that, once fertilized, develop into bunches of seeds, each consisting of an inner kernel encased in a soft, fuzzy skin. The seeds look like green cherries and contain butyric acid, the smell of which has been variously described as “rancid butter,” “sour milk,” “sh*tberries,” and “dog crap.” The Anti-Ginkgo Tolerance Group put it this way, in a recent proposal:

We are here to solve the problem of the Ginkgo tree commonly known as vomit trees. . . . The Ginkgo tree is widely known by most people but not by name. Walking down the street on a beautiful October evening your moment of tranquility is rudely demolished by the smell of old cheese and vomit.

The members of the A.G.T.G. are few but spirited. The committee was formed in January, under the aegis of Teens Take the City, a Y.M.C.A. program designed to teach young people about local government, and one recent afternoon at the Grosvenor Neighborhood House, on the Upper West Side, its ranks numbered three: Tevin Perez, seventeen; Jackson Sansoucie, seventeen; and Daniel Maldonado, eighteen. The plan was to pass out pamphlets urging citizens to call 311 if they encountered the smelly seeds.

Perez, wearing a rumpled white button-down, khakis, and a puka-shell necklace, was the first to arrive. Seated at a table in a basement room with pocked blue walls, he and the group’s adviser, Stephen Lehtonen, said that, walking to a pizzeria one afternoon, the group had been inspired by a forty-foot ginkgo, on the front lawn of the nearby Frederick Douglass Houses, that particularly stunk. Perez likened its scent to “rotten eggs in a rare form.”

Friends, When You Mug, Mug Them With Kindness, Not 20-Pound Rocks

Moral of the story — perhaps the rock part was overkill:

A hulking mugger who struck twice in five hours was busted yesterday when he picked on the wrong man — a 6-footer who fought back with his fists because “it’s very hard to scare me,” police sources said.

The victim, David Breksa, 39, was slammed in the ear and bitten on the chest by his attacker, Larry Benekin, 35, who allegedly tried to smash a cobblestone over his head — after smashing another man with a rock five hours earlier.

“I turn around to defend myself,” Breksa said. “He comes at me and I punched him in the chest. He goes backward and leans down and picks up a big friggin’ rock. It was a good 20-pounder. It was one of those big cobblestones. That rock is big enough to kill somebody.”

But Breksa, of East Harlem, tackled Benekin and they went at it at 109th Street and Central Park West at 1:15 a.m.

The 6-foot-1, 240-pound Benekin managed to grab Breksa’s cellphone and run off, but Breksa chased him and hailed some passing cops, who collared the mugger and petty thief, the sources said.

Ah, That Charismatic And Witty Sue Simmons

Channel 4 anchor Sue Simmons, perfecting the art of banter:

Simmons, who’s been with WNBC-TV for 28 years, dropped an F-bomb after she appeared to become angry during a promo for the station’s upcoming 11 p.m. newscast.

While teasing a story about rising food prices, she stopped in mid-sentence, shouting “What the f – – – are you doing?”

Simmons was not seen on camera at the time, and it wasn’t immediately known whom she was screaming at.

I love YouTube.

Odd, Seeing That Marine Vessels Are Frequently Personified As Female . . .

Until recently, the ferries that run back and forth between St. George and the Battery did not have a women’s locker room, which, until recently, wasn’t a big concern:

Part navigator, part security guard, part enforcer and part salty sea dog, Felicia Rosario, a petite and pretty 23-year-old from Queens, tends to forget that some passengers might not be used to seeing a female mate aboard the Staten Island Ferry.

With a year and a half under her belt at the Ferry, the veteran captains, mates and deckhands she works with say she’s part of the family — one of the guys.

But it’s the frequent “you go, girl” comments from passengers or the men who “look at me like I have three heads” that remind her that, to some, finding a woman with her job description is still a novelty.

“I get so many ‘girl powers,’ like I’m doing some great thing for womanhood. I don’t really see it that way. It’s just work.”

A graduate of State University of New York Maritime College, she majored in marine environmental science.

After a turn as a crew member on dinner cruise boats in New York Harbor, she came to the Ferry. She is now one of four female ferry mates.

. . .

The afternoons are full of tourists, but even though they’re a “headache,” with constant questions of “can we stay on the boat?” upon docking when all passengers must disembark, and a surprising number who lose their children, she would gladly cope with that in favor of her last assignment — the overnight shift on the weekend boats.

That shift, she said, is famous for “a lot of vomit and obscenities,” and the occasional “man overboard” checks, especially around the holidays.

“Compared to that, everything is roses,” she said.

Ms. Rosario may be “one of the guys,” but it’s still nice to have her own digs.

Her favorite boats are the new Marchi-class vessels that contain a luxury not afforded on the others — a female locker room.

“You can’t beat that,” she said.

And even in her uniform, she still manages to keep one girly touch — under the black gloves she wears to pull the heavy hooks that secure the boats to the slip is an engagement ring from her fiance, who is currently at sea aboard a container ship.

Location Scout: Staten Island Ferry.

Three Cheers For The Cockroach Czar!

. . . or whoever it is who is tasked to rid the city of the bugs:

The city Health Department is reporting progress in the war on the pests.

A department study found nearly 30% of all city households report having cockroaches, but the agency noted the problem is concentrated in low-income neighborhoods. In the past, infestation affected households at all income levels.

“I have not seen a roach in 10 years,” declared Joe Pepicelli, 68, of Brooklyn, who suggested the reduction is not because people are cleaner. It’s just that “they don’t keep soda bottles and garbage in the hallway.”

Exterminators told the Daily News they believe the roach problem is under control, thanks to new technology.

“There are a lot of options,” said Andy Linares, president of Bug Off in upper Manhattan. “Liquids, gels, aerosols, baits, granulators, growth regulators — all keep a lid on roaches.”

But never fear, for bedbug scaremonger Andy Linares — the Greg Packer of exterminators — will be sure gets his nasty hands on this bit of good news:

But don’t relax just yet. Bedbugs are on the rise.