BL'KER

I was walking a few feet behind a woman whom I could only assume was a\nEuropean tourist--she sported the hip walking shoes, half-sneaker,\nhalf-moccasin, whose labels are a mystery to American shoe shoppers\nlike me. Even more of a giveaway was the fact that she had pulled out a\ndigital camera and was using it to take a close-up snapshot of the\nsignage on one of the station's dingy white-tiled pillars. The sign\nread, in black sans-serif type, BL'KER. As charming as the mid-word\napostrophe was, I thought that only a tourist would bother to\ncommemorate its existence. To a New York native, the subway is a dead\nzone, a reminder of daily obligations, something we must get past to\nstart our days, something to block out of our minds.

Last week I got off again at the Bleecker St. stop. I noticed that the\nMTA's construction crews had begun to strip the stained tiles off the\nstation's pillars. Already half of the old, black, block BL'KER signs\nare gone, and I can only assume the rest will go soon--New York has\nnever been known for hanging onto the past. Which makes a sad kind of\nsense: Just when you learn to see something in the city where you live,\nit's gone