An air conditioner. A football club. A bag of garbage. A green bucket. Oh, and a couple of working payphones in Corona, Queens.
No words. Just some pictures of a strangled and strangulated payphone in Elmhurst, Queens. How does a payphone handset get to look like this?
I found an authentic old phone booth in the most obvious place imaginable: A dermatologist's office in Long Island City, Queens.
Last month I surveyed 5 LinkNYC kiosks, finding that only one of them served an expected quantity of ads. My survey yesterday of one arbitrarily chosen LinkNYC screen proves, once again, that these kiosks, which depend entirely on advertising revenue, are not showing a whole lot of ads.
I did some payphone hunting in Kensington, Brooklyn, after visiting the Morbid Anatomy exhibit at Green-Wood Cemetery.
Is the (800) GOLF-TIP mystery really all that mysterious? I suspect one very likely culprit: The Professional Golfers Association.
Simply love this photo from 1977, and not just on account of the phone booths. It is said to be "found" at an estate sale but it looks possibly posed/orchestrated to me. Who cares... It's all good.
The moment I stepped into this grocery store I had a strong feeling there would be an old, abandoned payphone within. I was right.
There are no public telephones of any kind on the new Kosciuszko Bridge. If anything bad happens you should hope your cell phone works.
An overheard recitation of one woman's phone number inspired a brief attempt at letting her know she left a lot more up for grabs than just that.
Some photos, payphone numbers, and pithy comments about payphones in Elizabeth, NJ, and elsewhere.
Just some deliberately vague comments about a coveted phone number I recently acquired, with discussion of how to make sense of online phone number lookup resources.
I think someone has something by splattering white paint on this payphones in Woodside, Queens.
I sifted through some data in an attempt to determine how LinkNYC kiosks fared during Manhattan's West Side blackout of July. Also, video calling is now available for the deaf and hard of hearing, I counted how many ads versus filler content rotated through randomly chosen kiosks, and other LinkNYC notes and observations.
A memorable encounter with the NYPD on the RFK/Triborough Bridge pedestrian path revolved around that crisis prevention/suicide counseling telephone I helped get installed in August. I am still processing the meaning behind the machinations.
Old rotary dialers occupy a distinct space in the pantheon of abandoned payphones. The calming sound and texture of the dialer spinning as I dialed a number reminded me of how many hours people must have spent simply dialing telephone numbers before touchtone phones came along.
A trip to Staten Island turned up a surprising quantity of working payphones at the St. George Terminal. I found 11 phones in all, and at some point in the past there would have been as many as 24. I imagine the ferry boats themselves may have had payphones on board at some point.
Development work at Penn Station has forced removal of about a ½ dozen working payphones. One of these phones was among my most-used devices to record sounds of nearby subway buskers, like Shobo Kubo and others.
The "WE NEED MORE PAY PHONES" vandal is not alone in feeling the absence of traditional public telephones. Once in a while the vandal gets affirmative feedback, demonstrating that others among us feel the wholesale routing of all public telephones is a step too far.
There is a "Payphone To God" at a bar in Chicago. Also, notes on payphone-centric projects such as Futel, Mind Dial, and Recalling 1993.
A photo of an unusually-located payphone on a Florida lake inspired me to verify its authenticity, and to follow up on another payphone-on-the-water question I raised a few years ago.
My thanks to THE CITY, and Gabriel Sandoval, for amplifying my long-running concerns about the lack of a suicide counselling hotline telephone on the RFK (née) Triborough Bridge. I could hardly believe my eyes when I found a crew of MTA workers installing the device last week.
A decayed, dilapidated, hunk of telephonic irrelevance greets straphangers entering or exiting the 63rd Drive-Rego Park M/R subway station off of Queens Boulevard.
A woman in one of the NYPL Schwartzman branch phone booths. May, 2017.
I got over my fear of being ridiculed for asking about such things. I staked out an old rotary dial payphone at an NYC eatery, asking permission first of a cashier, then of the store's manager, to enter into a strcture marked "Employees Only". . The cashier responded with the predicted dismissive "No." She was overruled. The manager had no problem with it.
Inspired by new contacts with an interest in the subject, I wrote down some reflections on my involvement with the Apology Line in 1993 and 1994. I also dug up some of the paperwork from that project I still have on hand, including the stickers I printed and the magazine I helped create.
The title says it all. I had LinkNYC machines all over New York blasting this ghastly noise, typically only heard through landline telephones.
I love when my ancient listings of old payphone numbers and locations connect with something in modern times. This restored rotary dial phone once inhabited an Army/Navy store in Jackson Heights, Queens.