I'm going to pretend that nothing bad is happening at Coney and that when you walk around things are still totally normal. It's not too hard to do, it's winter and very chilly and if you don't look around certain corners or walk down certain blocks, you can pretend the place is just in a phase of stasis and not in some metamorphosis from a caterpillar into a shit-covered vacant lot. I'll write about the stasis, as if time just stood still, and then I'll write about the shit-covered vacant lot.
Just a note to my mom, I know I used a bad word but the place is literally covered in feces and the word shit conveys my feelings better than the word poop which just makes it seem cutsy and trivial instead of a massive pile of steaming shit. Sorry.
Some things are the same. The Cyclone roller coaster is shuttered for the winter but is a creaky and scary as it ever was. When I first arrived, the sun was hidden behind the clouds and my first set of shots look depressing. I was just about to drive away when I noticed a break in the clouds and hopped out of the car just in time to get some great shots of the roller coaster. Everything about the appearance of the roller coaster feels oldey timey, the old neon sign, large bulbs on the marquis, and the rickety fence that surrounds it.
The cyclone is one of my favorite roller coasters. It is a legitimately great ride and the warped planks, questionable braking system and flimsy "safety" bar all add to the feel. When my friend and I first moved to the city, we would venture out on scorching August afternoons to ride the cyclone until we threw up and then head to Nathan's for beer and hot dogs.
Nathan's is open year round and keeps a countdown clock running showing anyone who cares how many days, hours, minutes, and seconds until the next hot dog eating contest. There is a strange mix of buildings around Nathan's, a few tiki bars and hotels that promise to be open all year round. The area between Nathan's and the cyclone's stadium has been developed but still has a strange "second fiddle" feel to it. Well, the hotels have a very strange feeling to them period.
From most of the boardwalk, the place feels exactly like it always does in the winter, a bit desolated but still full of people slowly taking in the sea breeze despite the cold temperature. Those of us who live closer to the epicenter of New York City have a tendency to forget that many people call this place home and that those people take advantage of their views so we shouldn't be surprised when they decide to take a stroll on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. One of the clam shacks was open, selling coffee, beer, and assorted fried goods. Just so you know, fried food tastes even better when its freezing out.
I'll attempt to keep this suspension of disbelief going for this section on Astroland. From certain angles and specific contorted positions you can imagine that nothing is happening here. I'll just leave it at that.
I love cats and dogs, so here are a couple of bonus shots. The cat's named Target and I called the dogs Bim and Bo.
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