In with the new

Met an alum for coffee at school after watching this year's university commence-ment from my office, and he alerted me that there were dumpsters across the street full of treasure. Some old store rooms in 64 West 11th are being cleaned out, revealing forgotten treasures like a plywood rifle inscribed "Linda," perhaps a prop from when our theater program had a performance space there in the 1990s, and a mirror some student had painted with dancing skeletons. The alum retrieved a potrait of Zorah Neale Hurston and a framed translation by Lang faculty of Gabriel Garcia Lorca's poem about Brooklyn, and I made off with a sturdy hand-made stool, perhaps also from some theater production long ago. A little poignant.