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Don’t Mess With My Tutu

isthmus madnessSwan wishes this was his car, BZA explains: Saved by a hair from the reject pile (tough light), Snake took this shot in that odd, historic no-man’s land between the Brooklyn & Manhattan Bridges. If ya’ll want to do a quick test of the gap (gulf, chasm, goddamn universe) between the streets & the internet, google this: any real estate or neighborhood blog in Brooklyn & the word… Panama, or perhaps Panamanian, & see what comes up. Yet here it is, with Goofy & two other unidentified characters, on the grill of not-our Oldsmobile: Panama. If Brooklyn’s historic Panamanian populace is little known even to those who live among them (shout out to the Franklin Avenue Posse: what’s good?), where does that leave the extra license placard, “Don’t Mess With My Tutu”? The Music Director knows soul-blueswoman Denise LaSalle’s song of the same title but as much as we mock the ethnocentric ig’nance of our erstwhile peers… WWIB is flummoxed as to how the song, or phrase, got here, as neither Southern soul nor blues are among Brooklyn’s primary musical flavors. Granted, the pop music of Panama is an insane, & amazing, creole mix so maybe came up from waaaaaay down South? Any further information would be most welcome, gracias.

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