I Aced NYC's Rat Academy!
Plus! Weird Trash Pic #31!! Jaywalking Jumps the Shark!!!
Hello everyone,
Welcome to Issue #140 of CAFÉ ANNE!
So much news this week I hardly know where to begin.
We shall start with last week’s issue, which included a profile of Tom Pagano, the maybe tone-deaf singer who graces the streets of Bay Ridge offering free karaoke. Several readers said his rendition of “My Way” brought them to tears—in a good way, I think. And many said they found his story inspiring.
Reader Charlotte K. had a follow-up question: “If he’s not doing it for tips, how does Mr. Pagano make a living?”
Mr. Pagano responded in an email: “My maintenance is low, so for now I'm able to live off of the inheritance Bruce left. I also sell my art work sporadically and help others declutter (part-time).”
He included a photo of one of his paintings, “An Artist’s Life.”
But my favorite comment on the story came from Chris S. who said he was delighted to see CAFÉ ANNE profile someone he knew. “His set lists are a blast,” Chris wrote of Mr. Pagano. “But here's the thing: Tom is also an incredibly thoughtful, wonderful gent who is a great neighbor and friend to my brother and everyone he lives around.”
Our next bit of business: the Bed-Stuy Aquarium! I won’t get into the whole back story, which I wrote up in Issue #137, but many will be pleased to know the makeshift street-side goldfish pond is back again—this time with a heater! You can read all the deets in this dispatch reported by Patch journalist (and CAFÉ ANNE friend!) Miranda Levingston.
Meanwhile, I was delighted to learn that at least one NYC couple donned homemade Bed-Stuy Aquarium costumes for Halloween. Reader Jack A. sent me a pic of his friends in Fort Greene disguised as Brooklyn’s most notorious puddle:
Connor Swords is the hydrant and Kennedy Couch is the pond. Jack swears these are their actual names.
Also, the huge news that last week, NYC legalized jaywalking. Locals immediately reacted by saying this means jaywalking is so over. “It’s no longer cool!” was the typical response on Twitter. “Boooo…jaywalking was my favourite crime,” wrote another.
Finally, huge outstanding-warrant shoutouts to the newest paid subscribers Jennie, Ann L. and Linda L. That’s enough $$$ to pay off all my old jaywalking fines!
I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. We’ve got another new Weird Trash Photo and an account of my experience attending NYC’s Rat Academy. Please enjoy.
Regards!
Anne
Weird Trash #31
This week’s weird trash photo is of the vintage variety. Reader Jim on the Upper West Side emailed a snapshot he took back in 2012, at 612 West 115th Street.
Yes, it is an airplane wing, set out with the recycling.
“It appears to be from a Cessna 172,” Jim wrote. “This would be odd-but-not-baffling if there were artsy studios about, but Morningside Heights is all pre-war apartment buildings. How it was in somebody's apartment, and what the sanitation guys did with it remain eternal mysteries.”
Thank you Jim!
As for last week’s weird trash pic, several readers came up with a very satisfying back story theory. It looks as though someone cleaned out their car—or perhaps their car trunk—and left the debris on the curb.
Please send your weird trash photo to annekadet@yahoo.com and I will include it in a future issue.
FEATURE
I Aced New York City’s Rat Academy!
I first learned of the NYC Rat Pack this summer when Mayor Eric Adams, who has famously been on an anti-rat crusade since he took office, announced the program's launch at a press conference in Brooklyn's Sunset Park. He wanted to enlist us in his War on Rats.
This was after he had created the city's Office of Rodent Mitigation, of course, and appointed the city's first Rat Czar, Kathleen Corradi.
To join the Rat Pack, the mayor explained, citizens had to attend the city's two-hour Rat Academy training, join a volunteer "rat mitigation event," and go on a "Rat Walk" hosted by the Rat Czar herself.
The reward? Swag! Your choice of Rat Pack t-shirt or ball cap.
The Mayor was, of course, personally modeling both items.
"We need you to help reduce the rat population in our city, and the rat swag will be your badge of honor as you walk through your communities," he said.
Reader, I knew I had to join the Rat Pack!
Last week, I took the first step. I attended the city's Rat Academy.
The city's Department of Health offers the free training sessions all over the city. I registered for one at the department’s "Brownsville Neighborhood Health Action Center" and was excited to get a speedy confirmation email from the "Rat Academy Staff”.
In addition to the training, it said, "Attendees will be entered into a raffle to win a rodent-resistant garbage can!"
The Neighborhood Health Action Center turned out to be a government building the size of an elementary school on a quiet block. Guards at the door directed me to room 204-B where I joined eight fellow Rat Academy students seated around a white conference table.
Martha Vernazza, the DOH Community Coordinator who leads Rat Academy trainings, asked us to introduce ourselves and explain how we'd heard about the event.
Most folks, it turned out, were small-time Brooklyn landlords who learned about the training on the local news or in an email. I introduced myself by saying I was writing about the Academy for my blog.
"I remember when the mayor had his press conference about joining the Rat Pack," I said, “I was like, 'I gotta join that Rat Pack because you get some swag! You get a free t-shirt, right?’"
Ms. Vernazza confirmed I would indeed get a t-shirt.
The training turned out to be a two-hour lecture accompanied by many, many PowerPoint slides, some featuring photos of giant rats. Whoever created the slides was apparently very excited about the project. Sample headline: "What Do Rats Eat? They Will Eat Anything!"
Ms. Vernazza began with an overview of the city's most common rat, the Norway Rat, which came here from Central Asia by way of Europe in the 1700s.
Rats, we learned, can gnaw through anything softer than steel, including cement. They will chisel away at whatever's in their path at the rate of ten bites per second.
"Wow!" I said.
"So their mighty tool is their teeth, but their big secret to success is in their reproduction," Ms. Vernazza continued.
The life-span of a NYC street rat is just twelve months. But in that time, a lady rat can produce seven litters of twelve pups each. That's 84 new rats! And each rat starts reproducing when it's just three months old.
I later did the math, assisted by ChatGPT. If the rat population grew unimpeded, we’d have enough rats to fill the entire Milky Way galaxy in 39 years.
"There's a myth that rats have no bones," Ms. Vernazza continued. "They do have bones! They're able to squeeze through a space that is as big as a half of an inch, or the size of a quarter.”
"Wow!" I said.
Oddly, I was the only who seemed impressed by these rat facts. It was a tough crowd.
You may not even believe this next data point, it is so bonkers: In order to thrive, said Ms. Vernazza, a rat needs just one ounce of food per day. Also, as mentioned before, they will eat anything. They love candy wrappers and potato chip bags, which they also use to line their nests.
The man sitting next to me, dressed in a white tee-shirt and gold chain, muttered something under his breath.
"Did you have a question?" Ms. Vernazza asked.
Gold Chain shook his head. "You're making me feel sorry for them," he said.
Things got more animated when Ms. Vernazza brought up a slide with the stirring headline, "Rat Urine and Leptospirosis."
Leptospirosis, it turns out, is an infectious disease. "Infections occur from human contact with the urine of an infected animal," she said.
The man in front of me, who was wearing a face mask on his chin (very 2021!), raised his hand.
"You mean just smelling it?" he wondered.
"Bacteria can enter the body through the nose, the mouth or any open wounds," Ms. Vernazza said.
"What are the symptoms?" Face Mask wanted to know.
"It's flu-like symptoms, fever, nausea. We have a leptospirosis fact sheet," said Ms. Vernazza. "If you're interested in learning more, we can have that emailed to you."
"Yessss!" Face Mask hissed under his breath.
Ms. Morales continued: "Leptospirosis can also be—"
"FATAL?" Gold Chain broke in.
"Oh yeah!" said Face Mask.
Next came what I considered the climax of the presentation, the slide, "How Can We Get Rid of Rats?" featuring a photo of a rat and a predatory marmalade cat.
Ms. Vernazza explained that cats and poison bait are not effective ways to get rid of rats.
"Instead of thinking 'kill, kill, kill,' we have to think 'attack, attack, attack,’" said Ms. Vernazza, her voice rising. "We want to attack their livelihood. Make them uncomfortable, make them unwelcome, stress the pest!"
"Stress the pest," I wrote in my notebook.
Ms. Vernazza explained that if you eliminate food sources and collapse their burrows, the rats will simply stop reproducing, much like the human population of New York City.
Okay, that last phrase is mine, not hers.
Ms. Vernazza outlined a six-step rat elimination plan. When we got to step two, "Clean Up," we were treated to photos of rat droppings and urine splats.
"So with rats, their droppings are, think of raisins—like a smushed raisin—blunted edges," said Ms. Vernazza. "But mouse droppings—"
"Black rice!" said Gold Chain.
"Think of sesame seeds or black rice, right," Ms. Vernazza confirmed. "Pointed edges."
Gold Chain flashed a victory grin.
It’s important to remove rodent droppings, she continued, because rats use them to communicate information such as food availability. It's also important to clean up dog poop, which rats can eat.
"They'll eat human poop as well," Face Mask chimed in.
Gold Chain added his own two cents regarding cleaning strategies: "I pour bleach and ammonia in my bins!"
Oh lord, even *I* know that mixing bleach and ammonia produces deadly chloramine gas.
"No no! You only need one," said Ms. Vernazza. "Don't mix them!"
Ms. Vernazza next broached the hot topic of "Targeted Treatment," aka killing rats directly. She suggested baiting traps with peanut butter and re-using the traps. "Do you know why?"
"The smell?" suggested Gold Chain.
Ms. Vernazza nodded. "So the trap will have that familiar smell of rat on it, and rats won't be so wary about approaching it."
"They won't smell death?" asked Face Mask.
The session ended on a high note. "Congratulations!" said Ms. Vernazza. "You have completed our New York City Health Department Rat Academy. You have completed step one of three of joining the New York City Rat Pack."
Everyone clapped, cheered and whistled.
And more good news! While we had all received lottery tickets for the garbage bin give-away, there were actually enough bins for everyone to take one home. I gave my bin to Face Mask.
I also took the opportunity to chat with a few of my classmates, including Gold Chain, whose actual name turned out to be David. He lives in Cypress Hills where he works as a property manager. I asked what brought him to the academy.
"Actually, I'm a ratologist," he said. "I know how to get rid of rats, get rid of them easy. I have a lot of methods. Yeah, I can tell you stories."
He told me about ridding one client's building of hundreds of rats.
"There's a thing called tracking powder. If you're not an exterminator, it's kind of illegal for you to have," he said, indicating that he has his sources. "And from there, it's easy to get rid of them."
He is also fond of a certain brand of poisonous bait. “The company is called Sensetech. You've heard of them, right?"
"No, actually," I said.
"The city was in contract with them," he said. "I think the de Blasio administration. Now they're using them again."
"Do you like rats?" I wondered.
"Funny you ask that!" said David. "While we were watching this thing, I said to myself, ‘What if humanity found a way to use rats in a positive manner, instead of just being in war with them?’ Like how we have dogs and horses. What if we found a really constructive use for rats? They'd have a purpose, you know?"
"I love that idea!" I said. "What can we do with rats, do you think?"
"Well they gnaw things, so we could find a use for that," he reflected. "There would have to be a think tank, you know..."
"A Rat Pack think tank!" I said. "We should start one together!"
Unfortunately, David was not interested in joining any kind of Rat Pack. But on the train ride home, I had a great idea.
So here’s the official announcement:
CAFÉ ANNE is launching a Rat Pack Think Tank!
Everyone is welcome to join and contribute ideas for how we can repurpose rats and harness their amazing skills to make them more useful—in NYC and beyond!
You don't need to live in New York, and no prior rat experience is necessary. To join, just drop me a note at annekadet@yahoo.com with the subject "Rat Pack."
Please include your location and best idea(s) for providing rats with meaningful work. Alternatively, you can leave your ideas in the comments.
Later this month, I will host a Rat Pack Think Tank video call on Zoom so we can refine our ideas, after which I will draft a white paper to share with the city's Rat Czar and Office of Rat Mitigation.
I am looking forward to working with you on this exciting project!
CAFÉ ANNE is a free weekly newsletter created by Brooklyn journalist Anne Kadet. Subscribe to get the latest issue every Monday!
This is fantastic, Anne! And the T-shirts should say "Stress the Pest!"
You probably covered this, but the Mayor's job listing for rat czar was epic:"highly motivated and somewhat bloodthirsty with a swashbuckling attitude, crafty humor, and general aura of badassery." I hired an exterminator who claimed he could tell if a rat was pregnant by the smell of its urine. I might pass on your email.