THE BACHELOR: Locals are waiting with bated breath to see if the Ditmas Park owners of Pickles the pooch
will adopt the girlfriend he met during his three months on the lam. File photo by Colin Mixson
serve customers inside a
swanky spa-like space on Flatbush
Avenue across the street
from the Barlcays Center.
Now, all red eyes are on
Albany, where Gov. Cuomo
— who adopted a more progressive
stance toward recreational
marijuana following
his gubernatorial race against
pro-legalization “Sex and the
City” star Cynthia Nixon — is
expected to announce the outcome
of a state study into legislation
that would regulate
a so-called “Adult-Use Marijuana
Program” early this
year.
That’s right, stoners: 2019
may be the year that all your
green dreams come true.
17. Fire’s afterburn
Southern Brooklyn’s premier
mall, the Kings Plaza
Shopping Center, literally fell
into the red last September
when an arsonist started a
fi re inside an outdoor garage
there, injuring 26 people and
destroying millions of dollars’
worth of cars in the process.
Cops cuffed the suspect
19. Puppy love
Last year, this newspaper
documented the thrilling hunt
for Pickles, an Australian-cattle
dog mix recovered from
Thai dog butchers and shipped
to Brooklyn, who got hopelessly
lost after running off
during an August walk.
But the pup’s humans never
gave up hope, and with help
from a couple of professional
pet trackers and animal lovers
on social media, they fi nally
found the wayward hound
near Brooklyn College in November,
three months after he
Pickles wasn’t alone, however.
His dad discovered the
precocious pooch in the company
of lady dog Violet, another
escape artist that fl ed
her foster family more than
two years ago.
Pickles’ owners said they’re
considering adopting Violet
once they move into a larger
apartment sometime this year,
leaving local dog lovers with
bated breath as they wait to see
if the two furballs will spend
the rest of their days together
in the same forever home.
18. Going green
The last 12 months ended on
a high note for Kings County
tokers, after District Attorney
Eric Gonzalez in 2018 expanded
his predecessor’s nonprosecution
policy for those
caught smoking in public or
with small amounts of weed,
which led to a massive decline
in marijuana-related arrests.
And as Gonzalez’s leniency
for smokers grew, so did that
of Mayor DeBlasio, who last
year instituted new policies
to decriminalize pot puffi ng
citywide.
Offi cials’ moves away from
prosecuting many low-level
weed offenses came as Brooklyn
geared up to welcome its
fi rst medical-marijuana dispensary
, whose owners will
soon after he allegedly torched
the parking area, but the mall’s
troubles persisted, with the Department
of Buildings issuing
its owners a violation for illegally
storing vehicles for car
dealerships in the garage.
And although the $620 fi ne
will not likely sink the mall’s
profi ts, the facility’s ongoing repair
work — and the resulting
congestion on nearby streets
— are headaches for customers
and local business owners, and
show signs of continuing well
into the year ahead.
16. Terms’ up
Community boards across
the borough are set for dramatic
shakeups, after New
Yorkers last November voted
via ballot referendum to enact
term limits for members serving
on the hyper-local groups.
The boards — whose members
previously served twoyear
terms, and could seek
additional terms indefi nitely
— must now limit members’
terms to four consecutive twoyear
stints. But members who
want to dedicate more time to
disappeared.
the panels are eligible to return,
eight years of service in a row.
Proponents of the term
limits argue they will help reshape
fast-changing neighborhoods
they represent. But opponents
claim the new restrictions will
force out many long-serving
board members with important
gained from their decades of
working with the community.
And as the civic panels begin
a new year under their new
regulations, just how the term
limits will affect the boards —
and the neighborhoods they
serve — will start to materialize.
15. Dock decision
The fate of some notoriously
boats remained adrift over the
past year after the city promised
home port in Sheepshead Bay.
In April, local pols announced
INSIDE
They did it!: This newspaper’s Editor-in-Chief, Anthony
Rotunno, right, and Arts Editor Bill Roundy had smiles frozen
on their faces for hours after they completed the New Year’s
Day Coney Island Polar Bear Plunge. Photo by Erica Price
Polar postmortem
Our editor reflects on his New Year’s Day plunge
Your entertainment
guide Page 37
Police Blotter ..........................8
Standing O ............................20
Letters ....................................28
The Right View ....................30
Wellness ................................. 33
HOW TO REACH US
COURIER L 2 IFE, JAN. 4–10, 2019 M B G
after a mandatory twoyear
break following their
Brooklyn’s 18 community
boards to better refl ect the
institutional knowledge
controversial party
to ship them out of their
the boats would per-
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19 BIG STORIES
Our dedicated team of Kings County connoisseurs predicts some of the biggest stories you’ll be
reading about over the next 12 months:
19
By Anthony Rotunno Brr-ing it on, 2019!
That is what I repeated to myself
while huddled amid a mass of halfnaked
people on the Coney Island beach on
Jan. 1, waiting for organizers of the annual
New Year’s Day Coney Island Polar Bear
Plunge to lift the plastic fencing separating
us from the Atlantic Ocean.
Minutes before, my three friends and I
joked about how refreshing the dip would
be, while we soaked up the sun on the
unseasonably balmy day, when temperatures
crept toward the high 50s.
But the warmth of the giant star’s rays
quickly subsided as I shed my fuzzy outer
layers on the sand — and watched the first
plungers sprint from the waters towards
their towels, their teeth chattering and bodies
writhing in the cold air.
Until that moment, I hadn’t much
thought about actually taking the plunge —
just the spectacle of making our way to the
People’s Playground, semi-hungover after a
long night ringing in the new year. And, of
course, the many photo opportunities the
excursion would present — including the
chance to pose with my beloved Arts Editor
Bill Roundy, who also planned for a wet
start to the next 12 months.
My decision to do the dip — often
described with such calming words as
refreshing, restorative, and rejuvenating —
seemed far less sound as I witnessed the
sheer chaos that was the inaugural batch of
500 plungers’ scramble to warm up after
they dove into the water at 1 pm.
But there was little time to question my
choice as the clock ticked toward my group’s
1:10 pm plunge time. Besides, the only way
out of the makeshift pen would be to fight
my way through the rows of people waiting
to follow us into the ocean.
Another massive crowd stood alongside
us, shouting well wishes that grew even
louder as the last seconds ticked down.
Then the organizers lifted the plastic fencing
in front of us, and our group of started
to slowly move toward the water as one, like
an amoeba.
All of a sudden, the noise stopped —
even as I rushed past the marching band that
lined our path to the shoreline. My sense of
sound seemed to go dormant as my body
braced for the sensation of stepping into the
icy water — which may not technically have
been below freezing, but sure felt like it.
I watched as bodies silently splashed
past me, as heads popped up from and
dropped below the surface around me, as
mouths opened wide but no sounds came
out. The water washed over me in small
waves, knocking the wind out of me as it
broke higher and higher on my bare chest.
To my right I saw my friend Liz, who had
been clutching my arm since we stood on the
beach and still hadn’t let go, even though I
could no longer feel her grasp. She gestured
to the surface, reminding me we agreed to
dunk our heads together. She then collapsed
into the water, bringing me down with her.
I barely closed my eyes and plugged my
nose before my body fell into the cold abyss.
As quickly as we went under, we popped
up. And then we bolted to the shore.
My senses returned with each step I
took away from the water. The cacophony
of cheers blared in my ears as I ran past
the remaining souls who had yet to submerge,
and I started to notice all those brave
Brooklynites who jumped in before me.
Many of their expressions had melted from
shock to smiles, and I basked in the warmth
of that cheer until I made it to the towel waiting
for me by the Boardwalk.
I wouldn’t go so far as to call the plunge
“fun,” and I’m definitely in no rush to jump
in again next year. But it was certainly unforgettable,
and not just because of the sheer
discomfort that was submerging myself in
the ocean in the dead of winter.
I left the day with an overwhelming
sense of camaraderie — for the dozens of
volunteers who made it possible; the hundreds
of folks I bonded with through our
shared experience; the locals who came out
to watch; and for Bill, whom I managed to
catch up with for a post-plunge photo at the
Freak Bar — that will surely outlast any
physical aftereffects.
I hope to hold onto this feeling of unity
with my borough and its people — a connection
often hard to make in a place with
some 2.6-million residents — as the months
ahead unfold, to serve as a reminder of how
we began the year together.
And if that fails, I’ll always have my
photo with Bill.
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