Remember Gerdi Lipschutz
Your front-page stories last week compelled me to respond. How can we forget my old sparring partner, Assemblywoman Gerdi Lipschulz. It turned out that Assemblywoman Audrey Pheffer had more under her hat than did Gerdi, or at least it appears that way. Audrey has never gotten herself in trouble since she frog-leaped from Gerdi’s secretary right into the seat vacated by Gerdi.
At the time it was hard to believe that Audrey was unaware that Gerdi was collecting one hundred thousand dollars a year for a casino gambling committee that had expired ten years before she was caught with her hands in the cookie jar. Maybe that’s what one gets for not sharing if you think like some politicians. I believe that Audrey put herself above the fray and that’s the reason she can apply for a better position. Her secretary, Joann Shapiro, is in a good position to take over. However, there are many on the peninsula that feel it is Lew Simon’s turn.
Where on this earth can you find anyone like Lew Simon? The more he is shot down the more he bounces up, shakes himself off and starts out like nothing happened. Maybe it’s time to give him a break. His ties to State Senator Malcolm Smith will come up for sure. Some-times the devil you know is better than the one you don’t know.
As for City Councilman Eric Ulrich’s plan for bicycles it sounds all right. I’m saying that because of an incident that happened to me. I’m sound asleep one early morning at 2 a.m. when my dogs started barking like we were under siege. I looked out the window and I saw two people ride away from my house on bicycles. I noticed that one of the bicycles was my daughter’s mountain bike. Not just any mountain bike but the first model ever made. I put my pants on and started after them in my car. They were nowhere in sight, but I pressed on. I saw them making a turn on Beach 92 Street just as I was nearing the 100 Precinct. I ran inside and reported what had happened and where they went.
The police officer put out a report to cars in the area. Just like that I was asked to go over to Holland Avenue and Beach 92 Street. When I arrived there was a gathering of about eight to 10 young people there. I spotted the bike immediately. Before I got out of my car one of the bystanders approached the driver’s side and stared me down. It was all I could to have enough space to get out of my car. “That’s my bike,” I said to the police officer. “This man is out of his mind. He’s a lunatic. It’s my bike,”
The one holding my bike howled at the police officer. Then a white shirt police officer appeared on the scene and there was a lull in the staring and the back and forth. My bike, no it’s my bike. The white shirt approached me and asked if I could identify my bike. “I have a key in my pocket that opens the chain wrapped around the handlebars,” I said. I took my bike and put it in my car and went home. Why not identify your bicycle unless you are like the opponents to cameras. “My rights are being infringed upon,” they scream. “What about my rights, you nitwit?” I want more identification and more cameras to corner the thieves and crooks walking around.