There was an accumulation of things that pushed us out of Williamsburg. Not to sound like a hipster pretending to be a wizened Brooklynite a la “I remember back in the day…” but the street we lived on--Berry Street--did go from deserted to nightlife-galore in one short year.

The record store below us in the building played regular concerts, on the corner of our block they opened a wine bar, and then there was the whisky bar that opened literally right below our window.