New York Diary

feel like a swim?

You wouldn't think there was anywhere in New York as unpeopled as Coney Island in wintertime. Iz and I were out there (to consider the fish at the New York Aquarium) and the stark loveliness of the boardwalk was staggering in its windswept emptiness. If you've ever seen the movie Pi, you'll know the scene where Max gets off the train at the end of the line, at Coney Island at the wrong time of year, and you'll have a sense of what this place can be like.

This startled me because I've always thought I hated Coney Island. In the summer the place a horrible mess, with far more people than any beachfront can reasonably support. Trying to find a space big enough to spread a beach towel is a challenge, and the New York sun is hot and unrelenting. There's sand, and a boardwalk, but most of Coney Island is paved. Blacktop in the summer is not precisely my idea of fun (though it is something of a cherished urban experience here nonetheless).

In more autumnal or even wintry weather, though, I begin to see what made this place the entertainment hotspot of New York City. The artificial wavebreaks, piles of rocks and concrete meant to keep an undertow from sucking children out into the Atlantic, become more jagged in this weather, more reminiscent of the west coast. Empty rollercoasters and bumpercar parks seem worse for their lack of people (even though I know I hate the summertime crowds). And the beach really is lovely, a thing I never noticed in the mass of people--and their junk--in a more favorable season.

I guess I like that which is solitary (or nearly so--a friend or two is always welcome to come along on my adventures). More than anything, one forgets the perpetual noise of the City when one lives here; if I stop to think, I note that I hear now cars, karaoke, somebody playing the guitar in the apartment across the way--but these are incidental, just background noises to which I pay no attention. Coney Island has in the past magnified the noise and made it noticeable again: the people screaming on the Cyclone roller coaster, the shrieks of thousands of children when the waves roll in, boom boxes and break dancers and people hawking T-shirts, batting cages and bumper cars and thrill rides. This time round, too, Coney Island again made me notice sound--but this time, it was primarily in its absence.

posted by Skay @ 8:44 PM