It is May 7, 5:30pm. It is so much more lively than last visit. The sun is out, the people are out. We are enjoying ourselves much more this time than the last. Not only are the shops now open, but they are booming. Nathan’s shot dogs has a line out of the door. Since we keep Kosher we cannot eat these hot dogs. We did, however, speak with a couple of friends who had just ordered and were now looking for a seat (it was so crowded that all five green tables were full). We spoke with a guy from California, who said he is here to tour and obviously he has to visit Coney Island. He knows of the legendary hot dogs, and when we asked him which he got he said he had to stick with the classic, “you can’t go wrong.”
We then stroll into a beach shop and skimmed over a few things. They sell bags, t-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, water bottles, etc. We then walk into Coney Cones and check out their delectable flavors. I am most interested in peanut butter, as that is my favorite spread. Again, due to religious reasons, we do not taste.
We spend more time walking along the boardwalk. We see the attendants of Luna Park testing out the ride Thunderbolt. There is a crowd of people surrounding them, peering through the gates. We see guys and girl who look like students. The guy are snapping pictures of the girl who is posing in chic clothing. She is tall and slender, wearing shorts and sneakers. Although it is nice out, I feel cold for her. We move along.
We see bikers, we hear music on speakers, we smell hot dogs. We see kids, we hear bells, we smell trash. We see a stand for supporting autism, we hear laughter and shrieks and a multitude of languages, and finally, we smell the ocean. Walking along the pier I am drawn to a black woman playing Stevie Wonder on her speakers. I ask if we may interview her. She says sure, but as I take out my video camera she requests that it be a voice memo instead, and that we will need to interview her over the sound of her music, because it took her long enough to figure out how to work YouTube on her phone. We chat with her for a while. She is very enjoyable company, telling us about how Coney Island is changing over the years.
On our way back to the boardwalk we speak to a Hungarian pair, a son and his mother. At first we approach the mother, who in turn smiles and redirects us to her son. Her son explains that his mother does not speak English very well, as they just moved here, to Brighton Beach actually, from Ukraine only about a month ago. He enjoys the boardwalk and the pier.
Walking out is heart warming, because we see families together and hear balls bouncing and see people on bikes. People are shouting, people are singing, people are laughing. All are beautiful. This is Coney Island. Welcome.
