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Horns aplenty (more than in Pamplona Seattle) feted the solstice, as did
and here . . . beyond the cowboy in blue toga, library maids and masters with a classic edition of Jules Verne . . . .
By the next day, revelry had migrated to Red Hook, where theatrical scenes of fund-raising on behalf of PortSide NewYork took place, involving officers of
someone’s flotilla bearing keys to the city. By the way, if you can make it to the Community Board 1 meeting TONIGHT by 6 pm, I’ll see you there. Important!
And someone commented . . asking what this mermaidographer looked like, click here and go to #9; thanks for these to Claudia Hehr.
Cheers. Summer is here . . . and I may tomorrow be agallivantin . . .
Meanwhile, if anyone got good pics of the librarian mermaid/mermen contingent . . . please share?
Coney Island–the reef–has existed within the sixth boro since time immemorial, this gathering has occurred since 1983, and tugster has blogged it since 2007, drawn by the natural beauty of creatures–like this one– with
breathing behavior in dry–if muggy- air, and … more.
But I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that . . . as the mermaids school on this reef, so does another species . . . camera-bearers. Even chief-liaison Dick Zigun has cameras turned on him.
And mermaids themselves sport cameras, maybe as mimicry.
OK, all fotos here by Will Van Dorp.
Totally related: in the third foto from end above . . . one mermaid sported a tugboat atop her hear but my shot was blurry. Also, I missed a shot of the “librarian mermaids,” which, if anyone got, I’d love a link or a copy.
Back to that foto of the other day, the third one down here that maybe baffled you . . . made you wonder if it got dropped in by error? Well, it was taken at Coney Island last summer, the place I usually depict as here or in fotos like the one below,
It’s just a kid . . . I thought . . . . But this is Coney Island, where the inappropriate is appropriate, a fantasy land where rules are attenuated, or even temporarily suspended, where you’re supposed to see things differently if only for a few hours.
The invisible tiger was stalking me,
marks . . . scumbling on the
shield canvas. . . . yes, canvas held by my assistant. Eureka!
You must be thinking . . . what on earth is this all about? Simple: today I turn 59, and Coney Island . . . and these 6-month-old fotos from Coney Island . . . is my way to celebrate it. I’m surging forward into a place I’ve never been, and hoping to create order and grace from angst and doubt. And “Coney Island” after all is the anglicized version of “konijn eilandt,” konijn being rabbit, and since–in honor of the year of the rabbit– I could find NO record of a vessel passing through the harbor here EVER with a name like rabbit or hare or bunny . . . . this is the best I can do.
And that summer’s ritual of trespassing lines of convention . . . that one cannot be repeated. I imagined I talked with the freak the other day as he was taking my order at the coffee shop.
All but the first three fotos by Faith.
Actually I’m creating the mystery, but I uncreate it after the fourth foto. You might try to guess what’s happening. I put in some lovely distractors. What was happening on Coney Island this morning between 7 and 930 am? Man with red shorts, a swimmer, and tug Edith Thornton (1951, ex-Signet Defender, J. K. McLean).
then Bowsprite approaches with camera; yellow kayaks and NYPD as background. She didn’t say, “We have you surrounded.” This could mean only one thing: click here and find out. Here’s the site for CIBBOWS.
Long Island City Community Boathouse spotted, as did the jetskiers.
Cristian read the rules.
And the first wave went in, heading for the first
The second wave (white caps) began their one-mile race to the Coney fishing pier and
Bowsprite served as beach-spotter at the finish line, where here arrive the first finishers in green caps. After
five kilometers in one hour and 18 minutes it was this close.
This was my first swim race; I plan to attend the one in November. About the Aquarium, it served as venue for registration and celebration; as we prepared there for the race in the wee hours before sunrise, I overheard some flush pinnipeds wagering their fishy breakfast on race outcomes.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
In recent years, the villains have included developers and politicians. Let’s see if you can guess who got pilloried in 2010. I give no clues, although I will show dirty pictures.
Eeeew! Sullied skin and scales; sticky besmirching gunk!
A polluted sea on the sidewalk,
such beauty begrimed,
a beached fowl befilthed by a fouling foam,
a pestiferous plague on pickup and passengers, and
all drawing out righteous indignation.
Face it . . . many of us are traumatized . . . and what can we do?
In the Gulf of Mexico and many other places our consumption has brewed a cruddy, nasty, soiled, nasty, stinky concoction that
chokes when brought to the mouth.
What must we all do to save beauty from beastliness?
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Some related pieces: a Frank Rich essay from Sunday’s NYTimes that I like, oil spills we don’t hear about, a cautionary tale from Nigeria where oil has issued forth since 1958, info and pix about the momentous 1969 oil spill off Santa Barbara, and an article about life of the crew of vessel known as OCS-G 32306 integral to efforts at end this nightmare.
So who was the villain here?
My gratitude to all the performers for their theatre of grief.
Coney Island has such a distinct culture that the sixth boro (the watery parts between the five terra-boros) should just annex it.
Very introductory but fascinating history of Coney’s evolution can be had in these short articles by Lisa Iannucci, Jeffrey Stanton, and Laurence Aurbach Jr. One theme of these articles is that Coney has a rich history of inverting the genteel norms, entertaining rather than uplifting, dissolving the distinction between audience and performer, and (for a holiday) legitimizing some folks’ ideas of the illegitimate. (Some of those phrases come from the lecture by Goeff Zylstra recently at Alongtheshore.) It sounds like the alongshore of Coney makes a candidate for the capital of the sixth boro, and the Mermaid Parade its official holiday.
May these few fotos whet your appetite! Doubleclick enlarges. More tomorrow. I took this foto almost immediately after arriving yesterday, and I was so happy I could have gone home satisfied. Mermaids exude such grace!
Dick Zigun, mayor of Coney, leads off the 20th annual parade. Thanks for ALL your efforts, Dick and crew. Oceans of appreciation to all the performers!
Fun for all ages, youngsters
of all ages: THIS is the circus that has come to Coney.
Beplumed posteriors and
profiles, they have given me a smile I can’t erase for days, months even.
Those black smudges . . . yeah, the parade did have its dirty parts, but for that, your patience until tomorrow is required.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.