The Q is stunned. Shocked. A week after embracing the idea of a great writer moving to the neighborhood, he's thinking of backing out on us? Because people know the address? EVERYONE knows EVERYONE'S ADDRESS, man! You have heard of the internet, yes? Edward Snowden? Some, in the halls of power, actually say we're more safe. With a straight face. Yes, they do.
Like we don't know where Woody Allen lives. Spike Lee. Nora Jones. Bjork. Ethan Hawke (yes, Ethan, that was me giving you a high five in Boerum Hill the other day). In L.A. they sell maps to the stars homes. And they're surprisingly easy to break into, according to the The Globe.
Mr. Coates, I hope you're ready to reconsider. You will not be anonymous anywhere you live. But you will never be safer than you'd be in Brooklyn.
Come home, man. The door's always open. We need you. We love you. And after a few weeks, no one will even remember you're here. Just ask A.O. Scott who lives down the block from you whether anyone pays for his coffee when he walks into Gratitude Cafe. You're a big star, yes. But not all THAT big. Get a big dog. And a good lock. Ask the neighbors to keep an eye on things. You'll be leaving the windows wide open in no time! (Uh, it's still the big City. Maybe ixnay on the indowsway. But frankly you'd be safer here than in the 'burbs. The creepy, quiet, 'burbs. Or the serial killer exurbs! Or the...or the...Zika-Ridden Countryside!!)
And I'm sorry, but the The Atlantic Magazine readers are NOT the ones you should be scared of in the first place. The really scary guys could use a few more good take-downs IN the Atlantic though.
Trust me. You're in friendly territory here, and we got yer back.
Coates Reconsiders
Like we don't know where Woody Allen lives. Spike Lee. Nora Jones. Bjork. Ethan Hawke (yes, Ethan, that was me giving you a high five in Boerum Hill the other day). In L.A. they sell maps to the stars homes. And they're surprisingly easy to break into, according to the The Globe.
Mr. Coates, I hope you're ready to reconsider. You will not be anonymous anywhere you live. But you will never be safer than you'd be in Brooklyn.
Come home, man. The door's always open. We need you. We love you. And after a few weeks, no one will even remember you're here. Just ask A.O. Scott who lives down the block from you whether anyone pays for his coffee when he walks into Gratitude Cafe. You're a big star, yes. But not all THAT big. Get a big dog. And a good lock. Ask the neighbors to keep an eye on things. You'll be leaving the windows wide open in no time! (Uh, it's still the big City. Maybe ixnay on the indowsway. But frankly you'd be safer here than in the 'burbs. The creepy, quiet, 'burbs. Or the serial killer exurbs! Or the...or the...Zika-Ridden Countryside!!)
And I'm sorry, but the The Atlantic Magazine readers are NOT the ones you should be scared of in the first place. The really scary guys could use a few more good take-downs IN the Atlantic though.
Trust me. You're in friendly territory here, and we got yer back.
Coates Reconsiders