Tuesday, June 29, 2004
CONEY ISLAND POSTCARD: MOZZARELLA AND MERMAIDS A trip to Coney Island is nostalgia-inducing for a host of reasons. But one of them, surely, is that the district feels slightly dangerous.
Yes, Coney Island is a living memorial to a seedy, run-down, pre-1990s New York. The area is tacky, overpriced, and short on bathrooms. The rides are second-rate and the beach isn't exactly pristine.
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So it's no wonder that a spectacle as spirited and whimsical as the Mermaid Parade--held last Saturday--has become a Coney Island fixture.
The annual event, tinged with a nostalgia for a time that probably never was, crowns a King Neptune and a Queen Mermaid, and culminates with the throwing of fruit into the Atlantic Ocean to commemorate the beginning of summer.
Participants this year ran the gamut--from ironic hipsters to earnest old timers to exhibitionists and theater queens--all decked out in mermaid-themed regalia. Making its way down Surf Avenue, the procession was at turns elegant and raunchy, majestic and profane.
It also attracted thousands of camera-toting, Cyclone-riding spectators. A good sign, one would hope, that Coney Island will survive in all its dingy glory through another summer season.
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In the middle of the parade, I slipped over to the original Totonno's pizzeria at 1524 Neptune Avenue (Large pies for $15.50. Toppings $2 each) for a brief respite from all the tridents, pasties and pirate hats.
The pizza did not disappoint.
In a metropolis where noise pollution is now seen as a leading menace, Coney Island is probably the only place where a shirtless entrepreneur with a peeling back and overlapping tattoos can legally snag $4 from children, lock them in rusty metal boxes, and subject them to extreme g-forces.
He can even smoke a cigarette while he does it.
(Photos by Willow Lawson.)
Yes, Coney Island is a living memorial to a seedy, run-down, pre-1990s New York. The area is tacky, overpriced, and short on bathrooms. The rides are second-rate and the beach isn't exactly pristine.
But Coney Island's also got history and spunk. It's got Nathan's and Totonno's.
And if nothing else, the colorful landscape offers Manhattanites in particular a welcome break from a steady diet of boxy high-rises, Citibanks and Duane Reades.
So it's no wonder that a spectacle as spirited and whimsical as the Mermaid Parade--held last Saturday--has become a Coney Island fixture.
The annual event, tinged with a nostalgia for a time that probably never was, crowns a King Neptune and a Queen Mermaid, and culminates with the throwing of fruit into the Atlantic Ocean to commemorate the beginning of summer.
Participants this year ran the gamut--from ironic hipsters to earnest old timers to exhibitionists and theater queens--all decked out in mermaid-themed regalia. Making its way down Surf Avenue, the procession was at turns elegant and raunchy, majestic and profane.
It also attracted thousands of camera-toting, Cyclone-riding spectators. A good sign, one would hope, that Coney Island will survive in all its dingy glory through another summer season.
In the middle of the parade, I slipped over to the original Totonno's pizzeria at 1524 Neptune Avenue (Large pies for $15.50. Toppings $2 each) for a brief respite from all the tridents, pasties and pirate hats.
The pizza did not disappoint.
UPDATE: Some additional--and more risqué--parade photos can be found here.
