Ode to Coney Island

It is difficult to articulate what exactly it is about Coney Island that I find so lovely. Strolling along the boardwalk there is a faint lingering of still sadness. Although this particular day is humid the high dew point is not what accounts for the heaviness I sense around me. The Coney Island of today is a kitsch filled dilapidated corpse of the grandiose Mecca it had once been. It is difficult to imagine that one hundred (yes one hundred!) years ago this place was teeming with bourgeoisie Victorian families in search of leisure. Even before that it was a tawdry respite for the workingman. Walking along the boardwalk I cannot help but be enthralled with the breadth of existence this place has had. The existence of Coney Island is at once comforting, disturbing, and strangely perplexing.

While sitting at Cha Cha’s, a Coney Island boardwalk bar I am struck by what can only be described as time standing still. Maybe it’s the cheap Sangria but what strikes me about Coney Island is its likeness to a skipping record. It is like a proverbial needle stuck in an eternal groove playing the same endless melody. Time has no place here. Coney Island’s needle is stuck and cannot work itself out and if it could, I am not sure I would want it to. The magic of Coney Island exists in its mesmerizing whimsy. My experience wandering the boardwalk is akin to that of decades of precursors. My own digital photos are even similar in appearance to those taken while film was still in fashion. Located in a large metropolitan area, what is great about Coney Island is that it feels as though it should not exist. Having been to Chicago’s Navy Pier it is perplexing why Coney Island’s fate hasn’t steered toward a more corporate future.

In the mid 20^th century Walt Disney’s disgust with Coney Island inspired him to create his own brand of amusement park. According to an essay appearing in the Journal of Popular Culture (June 1992-cited below) Disney criticized Coney Island for being “dirty, disorganized, poorly run, garish” and “honky-Tonk” (Weinstein 131). Today the island stands in an even greater state of dilapidation. However, what draws me to Coney Island are the exact reasons that turned Disney off. New York is filled with thousands of spaces that serve as a beacon to the past but none transport me the way Coney Island does. Its gruffness makes it undeniably attractive. Maybe it’s because I’m predisposed to amusement park enthusiasm or maybe it’s because the unrecognized potential I see at Coney Island mirrors my own. If Coney Island were a record it would be a beat up Charlie Parker album. Both share a past of amazing success and startling despair. The vinyl would have pops, screeches, and skips in places that would make a music aficionado cringe but, to me, those defects are gold because they are the interesting part of the story. To appreciate the defects is to appreciate/acknowledge the presence (passing) of time as something larger than oneself. The battered and tawdry edifice of the boardwalk is characteristic of what I find so beautiful about the place. There is no beauty in perfection.

A Brief History of Coney Island

Coney Island is a five mile span of beach on the Atlantic Ocean in Brooklyn. It was once separated from Brooklyn by a creek which is how it garnered its “island” status. ‘Discovered’ by Henry Hudson in 1609, it was “part of the land sold to the English in 1643 by the Dutch West India Company” (Weinstein 136). The name Coney Island derives from the rabbits, or “conies”, that inhabited the marshy island at the time. In 1824 construction began to develop it into a seaside resort. By the 1870s it was almost completely stripped of its rustic charms. In the late 1800s a corrupt politician by the name of John Y. McKane had Coney Island in a stranglehold. It had earned a reputation for “immorality, vulgarity, crime, vice, and public disorder” thanks to Mckane’s sanctioning of “voting fraud, illegal land deals, gambling, and prostitution.” In my opinion tarty histories are the best kind (hence-bona roba). In 1894 McKane was sent to the penitentiary and the clean up of the Island began. The reform of Coney Island coincided with late 19^th century advances in technology culminating in the birth of the modern amusement park. Coney Island was transformed from a male dominated den of hedonism to a family friendly (relatively) paradise.

Capitalizing on the practice of selling leisure as a commodity, Coney Island quickly became a fashionable vacation destination. The amusement parks at Coney Island emphasized design, illusion, spectacle, and ambiance and catered to mostly middle-class patrons. America’s first roller coaster opened at Coney Island in 1884 and maxed out at a whopping six miles per hour.

Luna Park

One of the first amusement parks erected was Luna Park, the largest and most popular of the three main parks, which featured live spectacular shows. In an essay appearing in the Smithsonian, Bruce Watson writes, “Luna Park was a fairyland of moons, lagoons and towers. By day it looked like a wedding cake, and by night it looked like a dream.” At Luna Park viewers could be awed by live re-creations of public disaster. One of their main attractions featured the repeated burning of a four story building complete with firemen battling a fiery blaze and people hurling themselves into safety nets.

At Luna Park patrons could take a trip to the moon. Upon a swaying ship replete with the smoke of lift off and starry panoramas, riders would be transported through space to the moon’s alien surface. Once there they were taken through celestial caverns and fed bits of green cheese offered to them by lunar maidens. Other adventures included trips to the North Pole, 20,000 leagues under the sea, and to the Streets of Delhi (with “an astonishing number of real Eastern People”).

There was also a onetime electrocution of an aging elephant. Allegedly the elephant, Topsy, had killed three park visitors, one of whom was attempting to feed her a lit cigarette. After surviving carrots laced with poison it was decided that Thomas Edison would use Topsy to “prove the power of alternating current” (Watson-cited below). Luna Park capitalized on the turn-of-the-century public’s fascination with death, horror, catastrophe, tragedy, and technology.

Dreamland

Dreamland was another of the first three main Coney Island amusement parks. It was built by a group of politicians to be the “Gibraltar of the Amusement World.” Lit by one million light bulbs on its 375-foot Beacon Tower, Dreamland’s magnificent illumination could be seen from miles away in the night sky. If that is not enticing enough, it also featured partially nude female sculptures at its entrance, hired theatrical stars to run concessions, offered live spectacles (such as the Fall of Pompeii), featured a Lilliputian village inhabited by 300 midgets, simulated submarine and airplane rides, a three ring circus, real infant incubators (complete with premature babies), and a ballroom that could accommodate 25,000 dancers. It also had rides, fun houses, and animal shows.

Steeplechase

The last of the three main amusement parks was Steeplechase which catered primarily to working class clientele. Steeplechase featured rapid-motion rides with “sexual overtones”. In rides such as the Wedding Ring, Barrel of Love, and Dew Drop men and women were thrown together creating compromising and embarrassing results. Steeplechase produced cheeks reddened with embarrassment over such improprieties as a lifted skirt or blown off hat. It offered its patrons a reprieve from the harsh standards of Victorian idealism. Revealing my own childish sense of humor I am amused to no end by the fact that Steeplechase had a ride entitled “Blow Hole”. I do not know what this ride entailed but am pretty sure that the image it rouses in my own imagination is most likely better than reality.

On the Boardwalk

Outside on the boardwalk the atmosphere differed. The boardwalk offered numerous types of entertainment from mechanical rides to shooting galleries to freak shows. Also, on the boardwalk, could be found some of the classic Coney Island lurid attractions such as saloons, bathhouses, and more sexually explicit themed exploits. Also to be found on the boardwalk were soon to be famous performers such as Irving Berlin as a singing waiter and Cary Grant on stilts promoting Steeplechase.

The 1910s brought great change for Coney Island. Strict gambling laws were passed in the state of New York and Coney Island lost the draw of its three horseracing tracks. In 1911 Dreamland was completely destroyed in an accidental fire and was never rebuilt. Coney Island was beginning to lose its novelty and excitement to other forms of entertainment. By 1919 Luna Park was turned over to creditors and “the creative spirit behind much of the amusement industry’s technical and visual innovation was lost” (Weinstein 144-145).

The depression caused a major decline in the amusement industry. Only about 500 amusement parks remained in 1936 as compared to 1500 in 1919. Due to very little spending money, large masses and competition prices had to be lowered. According to Weinstein, “The ‘daytrippers’ to Coney left behind on the beach and streets scattered remnants of discarded food, broken bottles, paper wrappings, and other refuse. The Island’s reputation further worsened with its emphasis on ballyhoo, girlie shows, and crooked skill games.” (146) I have no idea what ballyhoo or crooked skill games are but it all still sounds amazing to me.

Sadly, another fire wreaked havoc at Coney Island in 1944 burning Luna Park to the ground not to be rebuilt.

Two main staples still present at modern day Coney Island are the Wonder Wheel and the Cyclone. What differentiates the Wonder Wheel from other Ferris Wheels are its rocking cages that slide along tracks inside a 135-foot disk. According to Watson the Wonder Wheel replaced the Statue of Liberty in 1920 as the first sight immigrants see as they enter New York Harbor. The Cyclone was built in 1927 and features a 60 mph drop. When it first opened a wait could be as long as five hours. Charles Lindbergh was quoted as saying that the Cyclone presents “a greater thrill than flying an airplane at top speed” (Watson). I know, I’ve been on it and I nearly died.

In the 1940s television became the new popular form of entertainment and Coney Island was able to maintain its status as the “capital of amusement” despite its limited offerings and deteriorated condition. New amusement parks were just not being built.

Steeplechase remained the last standing of the three original parks. Its tenure lasted 68 years, finally succumbing to the urban decay of the Island on September 20, 1964. Modern day Coney Island, with its carnival like atmosphere, most resembles Steeplechase.

Modern Day Coney Island

Although being there is somewhat akin to traversing a ghost town I think that Watson is accurate in his comparing Coney Island to a phoenix. Quite literally it has overcome multiple fires but it also, though a little more worse for the wear, has stood the test of time. While it may not draw the crowds of yesteryear it is still a fascinating specimen of Americana. Condemned in 1969, the Cyclone was set for demolition but ultimately saved by a petition signed by fans around the world. At seventy years old, it was rebuilt piece by piece and it still attracts plenty of visitors today. Coney Island’s ability to endure from generation to generation, amidst huge cultural shifts and waning attention spans astounds me (and fills me with a perturbing sense of hope).

In 1980 Dick Zigum, a Yale School of Drama graduate, began Sideshows by the Seashore which produces special events to rejuvenate Coney Island by harkening back to the days of side shows and freak shows. This past summer (2010) Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson reigned as King Neptune and Queen Mermaid in the popular Mermaid Parade. Sideshow by the Seashore features sword swallowers, contortionists, fire-eaters, and more.

Also this past summer, what was formerly Astro-Land reopened as Luna Park. The new management has plans for the park to hearken back to the days of the former Luna Park.

Only time will tell what is to become of the American cultural institution known as Coney Island. Its ubiquity remains untouched. My hope is that it endures many more generations without losing all of its gruff charms.

Roadside America-Sideshow by the Seashore

Lawrence Ferlinghetti- A Coney Island State of mind

“Disneyland and Coney Island: Reflections on the Evolution of the Modern Amusement Park” by Raymond M. Weinstein from the Journal of Popular Culture June 1, 1992 131-164

“Three’s a Crowd, they say, but not at Coney Island!” by Bruce Watson, Smithsonian, Dec96 Vo.27, Issue 9

music to live by.....if you are me

While preparing for the big Jersey move one main problem I encountered was what to do with my car, Chalula. Being a perpetual procrastinator I put off the big decision until the last possible minute. Being pressed for time the final decision was to junk her. Alas, my dad offered to sell Lula for me saving me the time and mental strife of junking/selling her myself. I dropped Lula off at his home in Apple Valley Sunday night and was on my way to Jersey early the following morning. About five hours into the trip I received a call. I had left my Ipod in the Ashtray! Driving around listening to my Ipod is (was) one of my all time favorite things to do. It would have been devastating to have junked Lula and my Ipod! double loss. Anyway, I spend the last week and a half in Minnesota and, while there is a lot to be said about the trip, this post is an ode to my Ipod.

A few years ago I was a complete Ipod skeptic. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the things. Then I received two for Christmas. The said Ipod left in my beloved Lula is an old school red Nano with my name engraved on the back (thank you Mom). It absolutely changed the way I listened to music (and briefly inspired a work out period). Upon being reunited with this Ipod I was also reintroduced to music I used to find necessary for living. I am not really what they call a "music person". I like what I like and do not invest a whole lot of time to exploring new things. For this reason I was shocked at the variety of music found on my own mp3 apparatus. So here and now I raise my proverbial glass to some forgotten favorites. These are a few of the songs I never skip. Reunited and oh does it feel so good.

Delivery? yes please.

One of the greatest things about living in this east coast metropolis is constantly being surrounded by excellent food. Not only is the food wonderfully scrumptious but it is also super cheap. The second night in our new apartment, refrigeratorless and hungry, Kyle and I ordered Chinese food and thus began my love affair with cold noodles in hot sesame sauce. I have probably ordered this dish at least ten times in the past three week span. Only $3.50 an order and the container comes so jam-packed that I have leftovers to snack on for days.

Everyday brings new excitement, mystery and intrigue. Most mornings when I open the front door to take Jumbo on his morning excursion there is a new take-out menu. These menus are full of possibility and the promise of another delicious meal time treat. It’s like receiving a gift from Santa or some magical omnipresent foodie sprit. The anticipation of reading the menu makes the dog walk almost unbearable. Upon re-entering the apartment I eagerly read each and every option, carefully examine the wonderful stylistic nuances that went into the menu’s creation and plan a fictional meal that I hope to someday consume.

The best way to spend a Saturday night; take-out and Gilmore Girls

This place has been our favorite to order from. It's fast, delicious and cheap.

I like 33, Kyle likes 27; we always order both.

Moo Shu Veg and Bean Curd Szechuan Style have been very popular at our place.

This depiction of soda reminds me of Kyle and I. Go figure.

Lovin' the diner dude. Beer, mustard, and a sandwich. So endearing.

I love love love a good Pu Pu Plater photo!

I had a Margarita slice. It was divine. I love eating pizza while walking around. Something about the toxic city air mingling with the greasy cheese makes the pizza taste better.

Someone who eats Calamari needs to visit me so I can have a sharing companion. I cannot justify sitting down to a heaping plate of fried octopus by myself.

Quality print job.

Notice that all of these menus have free delivery! I never have to leave the apartment to experience the great culinary flavors of the Heights. How wonderfully dangerous.

First Pancake

The most difficult aspect of beginning anything new is, simply, beginning it. I have wanted to start a new blog for some time now. My hope for this blog is that it will serve as a space for the synthesis of my life experiences and as a testing ground for ideas. Writing is a difficult exercise. When reading a new piece of literature I always am attracted to the content, the ideas, more than the craft. However, without honing the craft of writing, ideas contained in literature would not have potency. This potency is what makes literature such an important part of culture. I plan on using this forum as a space to hone my own craft. I also plan on using it, as many before me have done, as a space to explore myself. I have (foolishly) considered myself a “writer” without seriously practicing the art of writing. Through the creation of this blog I hope to gain a clear snap shot of myself as a writer.

I do not want to be overly didactic or serious in tone. The ideas and topics I plan on further exploring include, but are not limited to: literature, fashion, politics, photography, my daily explorations, food, funny things my dog does, essay writing, culture, movies, music and whatever else. I am not writing with any intention of having a readership or following. However, my grand vision for this blog does include it becoming a place where my family and friends can check in on my life. Some elements will be biographical. That said, I suppose it’s time to delve in:

In the past month my life has completely changed. I packed up and shipped out, moving halfway across the country to Jersey City, New Jersey. I am a native Minnesotan, born and raised in Minneapolis. Until four weeks ago I had spent my entire life living in the Twin Cities. Moving is a daunting feat. We, my gentleman friend, Kyle, and I, packed our entire lives into a 15ft Budget rental truck and hauled all the way to Jersey City with little idea of what was awaiting us once we arrived. Kyle drove the entire way of course while I regaled him with my stunning sense of humor and charm. Our Chihuahua, Jumbo, also accompanied us on the extravaganza. He was not thrilled and is just now beginning to fall into normalcy.

We arrived in Jersey City after spending a day and a half cooped up in the truck (we over-nighted at a Comfort Inn). Navigating the Truck through the narrow streets of New Jersey was harrowing and the Jersey Drivers seem to err on the side of insane but we made it. We picked up our keys from a rental office in Hoboken, made our way to Jersey City Heights and into our new apartment. Upon first viewing, it seemed impossibly small and was disappointingly dirty. There was also an episode with the refrigerator which is still too fresh a trauma for me to even discuss (another post for another day?). However, because of the refrigerator episode we were not able to begin moving our stuff up until mid afternoon. Kyle hauled most of it up by himself while I guarded the truck. In the interest of full discloser, at this point, I was ready to hop on a plane (or even drive the truck) back to Minneapolis.

While moving our things up we were informed that “commercial vehicles” were not allowed to be parked on the street between 9pm and 6am. Thus, leaving our moving truck on the street would result in it procuring us a hefty ticket. We made it to the drop of location only to find that it was closed, the parking lot entrance chained shut and with no drop box. We saw another Budget truck parked in a lot across the street and decided our best option was to leave the truck there and return in the morning. Kyle verified that this was okay with some guy in a fork lift. We took a cab home, ate some junk food and passed out.

The next day Kyle arose early, in an unfamiliar city, to attempt to navigate the public transit system back to the Budget drop off. I was as close to being paralyzed as I ever hope to be. Around 11 I was awoken by my phone but I didn’t answer. The caller, however, left a message. It was Paula from the storage center informing me that the place we had left the truck was threatening to have it towed. She also reprimanded us for not leaving the keys in the truck (because that makes sense) and informed me that this was “not her problem” (however, it really seemed like it was her problem). I frantically called Kyle, who was a few blocks away (he had a difficult time navigating the transit system), and warned him about Paula and her non-problem. In the end everything worked out fine. Paula told Kyle never to do anything like that again (as if) and that was the end of the truck saga.

In the past few weeks we have unpacked, gotten furniture and established an internet connection. I cleaned the apartment and after finding a place for all of our things, the apartment feels remarkably larger than it did that first day. We have a living area, a bedroom, a study, a “one-butt” kitchen and bathroom with a wobbly toilet. We have a new platform bed, a new couch, and two new wardrobes. Most of our art is hung up on the walls and everything is feeling very homey. Although I miss Minneapolis-Saint Paul, mainly my friends and family, I am beginning to feel like a life here will be a nice change of pace. New York City is a wondrous place filled with all sorts of promise and intrigue. Jersey City is strange and full of character, it reminds me so much of my beloved east Saint Paul neighborhood-Dayton’s Bluff. Kyle began a job today busing tables at a restaurant in Midtown Manhattan and tomorrow I have an interview for a restaurant management position in the East Village (!!!). Tomorrow we are also attending a reception for new students at Drew University (photos to come?). All in all things are going pretty well.

Thus ends my “first pancake”.