Salt

Coney Island: I met a German yesterday who had come to New York a few days ago truly thinking that Coney Island was an island and wondering why he couldn't find it on the map. It occurred to me that I had never thought that and I wondered why. They say it's the last year of Coney Island, that a boogey man developer is setting out to destroy the gritty and unique beauty of the constant carnival, to replace it with high rise hotels and clean it up a bit. People talk about it in a resigned way, like they've been anticipating the death of Coney Island the way one waits for an aged and ailing relative to pass on. I took the German there to see what we'd find and we met a French guy there, the 3 of us perfectly in time out of our lack of punctuality.

The neon lights themselves seemed faded and even when we walked directly between the Zipper, the Wonder Wheel and other creaking rides, it reminded me of walking past the fair grounds late at night, hearing bells and screams and metallic voices but being in another place. It was somewhere between a time warp and oblivion, almost that it had never existed at all. Even at 10pm, families aimed water guns at targets, determined to win a stiff, stuffed bear holding a heart, or a basketball. And despite the painful lurches and slams of aging thrill rides, people lined up for their chance to face..what? their fears? their childhoods?

The air coming off the sea smelled thick with salt, thicker than I'd smelled it before in that spot and I breathed in deep. The boardwalk was dark, making it impossible to walk without tripping over the countless boards that were trying to leap up out of the wooden walk way. It was like learning to walk with a limp. I got a corn muffin and a corona and we talked about subtleties in languages and culture and where everyone was on September 11th; everyone agreed that the video looked like a very bad movie, very unbelievable yet apt for a film about NYC.

Q: I've come to love the letter Q. Everytime I see it, lit up in yellow, I feel a sense of familiarity, I've got the stops memorized and I feel safe aboard. Someone in the office, reading a bottle cap, said that the letter Q is the only letter in the English alphabet that doesn't appear in any of the names of the U.S. states. To me, the Q has its own language and when I see it slowing towards me, I understand.