August 8, 2005

There are two things you've gotta do in order to complete the whole New York experience. You have to go down to Coney Island and get a hot dog from the original Nathan's on Surf Ave (if you don't do meat, get the fresh fried potatoes - man!). And while you're there you have to take a ride on the Cyclone, One of the oldest and best rollercoasters on the planet and now a preserved historical landmark. After screaming on the Texas Cyclone in Houston (the faithful replica) numerous times as a kid, I've been wanting to ride the original for nearly thirty years. I wasn't disappointed. I did observe, though, that the two coasters are not duplicates of one another, but rather mirrored images thereof. From memory I new what was coming, but I felt it all in the opposite directions. Kinda cool.

My family and I went to Coney Island Beach on an overcast Monday, which was great because it wasn't too hot or crowded, but not so great because it stank, probably from the weekend, and it was ...I dunno, surreal, I think; bleak and eerie, like something out of a Stephen King novella. The amusement parks were as old as the twentieth century itself, and those who ran them appeared as mutants of some kind, weather-beaten and bored like the old rides, games and concession stands they tended like co-dependent relatives. I felt a little sorry for the Cyclone, the granddaddy of all amusement rides, still strong and dignified, yet surrounded by hollow mediocrity and a skanky vibe. It didn't look out of place or out of date; everything else did. I'm told that this is the last year one will experience this place in it's classic, funky state. It's due to be revamped next year. I'm sure I'll go back then.

Come to think of it, cheesy nostalgia seemed to be the order of the weekend for me and my klan. Sunday afternoon we were driving around New Jersey and wound up on the banks of the Hudson River. We decided to stop and grab a bite at the Crabhouse, a seafood restaurant jutting out over the water with a view of Manhattan. The outdoor entertainment that day made Bill Murray's lounge singer character look like Bono by comparison. Imagine a middle aged Italian vocal duo that sang pop and swing standards to prerecorded backing tracks, like the Fabulous Baker Boys doing karaoke, with their own voices cranked so far out in front it was painful. One of them stood holding a mic while the other sat behind a booth under an umbrella with a boom stand (apparently he was the DJ and the emcee). Their sound was so abrasive they made my son cry! After a short break (thank God for small miracles) they resumed and announced that after a five-year run they were being cancelled because of all the noise complaints. Go figure.

At that moment, Sasha and I felt rather privileged, and yet sad for everyone else who would visit after us. Apparently, this is the one thing you've gotta do to complete the whole New Jersey experience!

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