Coney Island: The Boardwalk to Nowhere

Greetings folks,

Two posts back to back. It’s not like me at all. But since some of you (my other half included) complained that no one wants to read about moral dilemmas (much less deal with them) on Substack, I decided to give people what they want — monochrome photos about a peninsular neighborhood and entertainment area in the southwestern section of the New York City borough of Brooklyn. But it’s just a short pause between Moral Dilemmas and Moral Dilemmas, Part 2. FYI.

Picture this: a stretch of wooden planks running parallel to the crashing waves, a chaotic symphony of laughter, screams, and the occasional "oomph" as someone inevitably stumbles over an errant seashell or slides across the weathered boards face down, after they trip on a rusty nail.

Welcome to the Coney Island boardwalk, where the only thing more eccentric than the attractions are the people who frequent them.

Strolling down this iconic stretch of frozen time, you can't help but feel like you've been transported to a place you wouldn’t even dream of visiting. One look at a bearded lady in a tutu wrestling a seahorse will convince you of that. That said, the boardwalk is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, having survived countless storms, fires, and the occasional disgruntled seagull attack.

No, the boardwalk is not for the faint of heart. It's a labyrinth of food carts, fortune tellers, and people who seem to have a peculiar affinity for wearing the most outrageous costumes imaginable. And woe be unto the unsuspecting tourist who dares to step onto the boardwalk without a firm grip on their funnel cake or a steely determination to stare down a man in a hot dog costume.

Yet, there's a certain charm to the chaos, a sense of community that can only be found in a place where the line between reality and absurdity is blurred beyond recognition. It's a place where the only thing that matters is the pursuit of pure, unadulterated fun - whether that means riding the Cyclone until you barf on a stranger’s loafers or watching the world go by while sipping on a lukewarm beer.

So, if you find yourself in New York City and in need of a respite from the hustle and bustle of the street, head on down to Coney Island and lose yourself in the whimsical madness of the wooden stretch to nowhere. Just be sure to keep a tight grip on your wallet and your sense of humor - because on the Coney Island boardwalk, you never know what kind of adventure might hit you over the head around the next corner.

Thanks for reading and being a subscriber.
’Til next time.

ak

Film: Shame. 1968. Ingmar Bergman’s greatest film, IMHO.
Music: Sex. The Necks. 1989.
Book: My Life as an Animal. 2017. Laurie Stone
Podcast: Lex Fridman interviews Kevin Spacey. 2024