Thank you so much for taking time that at the end of your life you do not get back to visit IT WAS HER NEW YORK.
I post three times a week on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday, Sunday's posting always a family or childhood memory. However, as we see from JEREMIAH'S VANISHING NEW YORK, something in our home can without warning suddenly become a memory.
Still, perhaps foolishly so, I write to defy what some call inevitable and others call stupid. I'm with stupid.
It was a dream come true. As wonderful as Gramma allowing me a ride on the Wonder Wheel or Florence playing hookey with me and Louise and taking us for a early morning summer swim, recently one night I got to have Coney and baseball together. The Brooklyn Cyclones, farm team for the Mets, were playing the Pennsylvania Auburn and with $8 tickets for the outfield boxes, once again we rode the emotional roller coaster until the Cyclones, just like the Mets came from behind and we're still not sure how but then again family traits do run deep.
And of course, the fireworks helped ease the exhaustion from the ride.
*with thanks to Kristopher for the hotdogs and fries. Go Nathan's!
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.
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