Coney Island
We've all heard about, read about, maybe even dreamed about Coney Island. On Thursday, John and I hopped on the F train and made the 1-1/2 hour trip to Brooklyn and Coney Island. However you picture Coney Island...that's not it.
The first thing you see is an old rickety roller-coaster that makes the clickety-clack sounds before plumeting to the bottom of the loop. The carnies still beckon you over to throw a ball or try your luck shooting down ducks. There's cotton candy, Nathan's famous hotdogs, ice-cream, candied apples and pop-corn. The boardwalk is as wide as Main Street America. A clean, blonde colored beach at least a 100 yeards wide, snugs up against the boardwalk, running along about a mile. The pier juts into the Atlantic where people fish and socialize in clustered groups. There is no charge to walk the boardwalk or fish the pier.
The Cyclones, Brooklyn's Class A baseball team, plays ball under the shadow of the Big Wheel ferris wheel. The locals wave to each other, ask about the family and cheer for the home team. The people are infintely more fun to watch than the baseball game. Between each inning some type of audience participation ensued. Contestents put together enormous puzzels on the field. People dressed up like hotdogs and had a race from 3rd base to home. Cute young girls with Beach Bum labeled across the back of their shirts, threw peanuts and t-shirts to the eager crowd. The whole stadium seemed like a giant community reunion.
This is Coney Island's last year to operate. Mayor Bloomberg is shutting it down to make room for expensive condos. The old wooden Cyclone will be torn down, the carnies will find another game and Coney Island will only be a memory that lives in pictures and dreams. I'm glad we saw it.
