A Coney Island of the Soul: The Boardwalk on a Late Summer's Eve

What is it about the inexorable approach of the end of summer. Even though I love the fall, and even the winter, when it is not too intense, the approach of the week before labor day brings a little bit of ennui, a rootlessness and sense of endings, of movings on..

For most households that include children, adolescents and young adults, when this time of year comes around the scent of salt water, seaweed and suntan lotion begins to curdle and set into the faint whiff of the Death March to Bataan..our household is not much different.

So, the other night, we were driven by the urge to hit the beach, to pretend it was Forever Summer. We walked the Boardwalk at Coney Island. First stop, Ruby's Bar and Grille, just a stumble away from Shoot the Freak!

We got 2 cups of Coors Light and split a piece of corn on the cob. As we sat down, watching the boardwalk parade, we started chatting with one of the managers at Rudy's, which was founded, he said, in 1934. After Ruby became ill, his daughter, son-in-law and grandkids came on the scene to help to run the business. After Rudy passed away in 2000, they took over. One family member, a mortgage broker 5 days a week in Nassau county, makes his way to Coney Island from April through October to serve the summer crowds. We talked a little about the pending real estate moves expected to change the face of the boardwalk forever. Although the current economic downturn may delay for a while the Atlantic-Citification of Coney Island, it is no doubt something that will happen eventually, changing the funky face of Brooklyn's southern shoreline. I can recall hearing of policy and business discussions for years and years about the vision for Times Square improvement. Finally it happened, and the funky charm has now been replaced by corporations, branding, and higher prices. No doubt the boardwalk will not be far behind. The hawkers on the boardwalk were selling their rosary-necklaces and their neon light sticks. The spinning lights expanding in the distance to un petite aurora borealis of the mind.

Next up, we strolled further and encountered the weekly Boardwalk rave, djs driving the dancing crowd onward, as darkness fell, and the crowd settled into the moment. We hung out a bit, getting into the groove. The beat infectious, the crowd waxing and waning and waxing again, pulling in passersby, as the djs worked their magic.

We strolled further, backtracking a bit now, and, even though we were sans children, I was pulled in by the claw machine. Feeding quarters, alternately cursing fate or fortune, until I came up with a prize for My Lovely Date.

Since we hit the boardwalk and restaurants in Brighton now and then, we decided to keep tonite's visit strictly to Coney Island. Back on the street, as luck would have it, we came across Steve Power's Gitmo Better, a political statement that is part thrill ride, part side show attraction. Climb the stairs, feed a buck into the slot, and wrestle with your conscience. The spongebob and squidward logo is a stroke of sheer genius and the fact that this has been discussed in the NY Times, The Economist and the blogosphere at large, doesn't leave much left to say. However, it is in the details and nuances of this artwork that you get the real flavor of the statement. For example, the blue blazer with the American flag pin hanging neatly on a hanger, while the interrogator has changed into his work clothes of a pulled up hoodie, suggests, whatever the politics of this incident, that the Grand Inquisitor here is just a working stiff, whether for Blackwater or the Central Intelligence Agency, just a guy doing his job. Nuff said and worth the cost of admission.

After having lectured our son about the calorie counts when we bought him a Burger King the other day (you gotta wonder, which number you would prefer to be higher, the calorie count or the price) , we decided to forgo Nathan's and we made our way to Taci's Beyti on Coney Island Avenue near Avenue P for wonderful shepherd's salad, eggplant and some kebabs. The service was very warm and welcoming in this family run Turkish restaurant.

Time isn't holding us. Time isn't after us. Brooklyn, full of dreams and dreamers, here at the shore.