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So there’s this former Naval Air Station, in Brooklyn, called Floyd Bennett Field. Brian Berger’s relationship with the Floyd goes back nearly to the dawn of time, at least the early 1960s when his father, a native of Rockaway Beach, was stationed there as a member of the United States Navy Reserve. Young John Strausbaugh was then resident in a Baltimore rowhouse and convinced, as only kids of the Eisenhower, Kennedy and early Johnson eras could be that, as Sun Ra insisted, Space Is The Place. (Public schools of the 1980s tried to convince the Sorrows of Young Berger the Space Shuttle was “impressive” but no, it never was.) Today, Youthful John Strausbaugh, living on the roughouse, rough trade edge of Brooklyn Heights (it’s true, if you know history), travels to furthest end of Kings County as the New York Times’ “Weekend Explorer”. How did he get there? What did he see? I like to believe John grabbed the dollar van downtown, got off somewhere in Flatlands or Marine Park, snagged a few dancehall mixtapes and maybe some jerk chicken before catching the bus, or hitchhiking,  the rest of the way down Flatbush. Maybe he rode a bike. Or skateboarded. Or swam. Paddled? The Navigator knows! Kenny Wisdom

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