The hour is late, it is dark and oh so quiet, as your body unwinds, calling for its friendly affiliate, sleep.  Suddenly your inner mind seems to bolt from this wonderful twilight feeling, just before slumber, and commences to take off, as from its launch pad, like a rocket.  Your conscious mind is aghast as it sees its subconscious race threw time and space.  We decide to board this flight, in hopes of making some semblance of order to its sightings.  Where is it now?  Oh! the old neighborhood.  What wondrous memories will it depict on our huge screen before our eyes?  Wow! there's the Avenue.  Why look at the traffic light standing there, like a sentinel, guarding the right field (off the alarm) fence.  And there, just opposite on the northwest corner, is the drug store, with illuminations inviting.  Over on the southwest corner is that place of numerous unforgettable good times.  The "Night-Hawks" club.  Now we cross to the other side and find ourselves at the southeast section of this intersecting street.  Here we can see that wonderful lamp-post, which bore the name of this fabulous place.  Coupled to this fine edifice is our memorable alarm.  Just across from this dynamic duo, stood a red brick building, which at its corner point was housed a mirror.  This mirror would reflect its numerous passers-by, like the Avenue's inner soul.  It was also a convenient place for the "Cole" to take a double check.
We turn this mirrored corner and proceed down the block.  The wondrous block which was the dwelling place of a fraction of the many fine people who inhabited this loving neighborhood.  Proceeding down this block, we first come upon "Fred & Dolly's" quaint daytime diner, where many a malt and such were devoured.  Just ahead that building, with the fine stoop, which enabled many an exciting stoop-ball game.  Further on as we pass the many apartment houses and the old public school, which encompassed a third of the opposite side of the street, we would finally come to that wondrous place.  Known, affection-ally as our park.  Who could forget the marvels this fine area held for us.  The tight and extremely competitive basketball games, which we had, and / or the the many romantic episodes which our amorous sides would practice, on one of its famous benches.
Crossing the East River Drive, or safely traversing it via the over pass, would bring us to our famous watering hole.  Where on a hot summer day many a fine lad could be seen bathing in the dank, filthy but refreshing waters of the East River.  The more brazen would be captured as they dove from the high overhanging over pass or swimming to the other side, to land on Randall s Island.
Back on the Avenue, one could recall so many other aspects of the neighborhood.  The many fascinating stick ball games which were so much a part of our culture.  And what about "Cuschas", where one could still smell the aroma of her tempting foods and baked goods, as they flowed from the greasy kitchen.  It was the only place you could see the raisins walk off your buns,  Ha! Ha!
The shoe maker and liquor stores.  "Scotti's" and "Charlie Ding-Gin's" candy stores.  And not to forget the parties at one of the "Bison Debs" houses.  Boy how these places and events conjure up memories.
Names, especially nicknames, were so prevalent.  Monikers like Moe, McGraw, Cole, Rags, Do-Do, Ju-ju, Cap, Pickels, Head, Rabbit, Greek, Butter Fly, Prines, Muse, Smash, Frog eyes, Baboink, Hoot, Punchy, Marsh, Moon, Beals are just a few of many.  The comradeship which these nicknames seem to foster were like the comradeship shared by Jesus and His Apostles.  Remember He also renamed them.  It is also evident in the comradeship of the modern day Marine Corps.

It would be impossible for a single soul to capture, correctly, what so many have lived.  Hopefully this narrative will act as a catalyst for your own memories. See you on the Avenue!