What I love about New York is that, whatever piece of global business crap they throw at us, we make it all local somehow. The monolithic IKEA in Red Hook—with its mile-high letters, bold blues and yellows and giant building-block structure—doesn't stop the driver of this Mister Softee truck from parking right outside the entrance and letting the tinkling music of its tape loop perfume the corporate air. Sure, they've got your dining room set inside. But slow down. Have a Lick-a-Color!
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