My dearest, sweetest, most-ghetto Coney Island…
We love you in all your ghetto-fabulous spendor. We relish the air-brushed murals, acrylic 2-inch nails with rhinestones, the plethora of tattoo parlors, the Italian mafia-run parking lots, the deliciously famous Nathan’s hotdogs, the prizes at your arcade games that range from a giant boyscout Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals to Tupac metallic wall hangings.
You have long since been a love of ours, and we will never forget the the time I fainted on the boardwalk, seeing Modest Mouse at the Siren festival, and the very best of the Cone – the most amazing roller coaster ever: the Cyclone. Riding it three times in a row yesterday (the last two times in the very front row) kept Will and I exhilarated and pumped through the beautiful firework display by the water.
I have heard several conflicting accounts of Coney’s future, and I fearfully await the “Island’s” fate. Just please don’t tear down the Cyclone, is all I can ask. Pretty please, with powdered sugar from funnel cake on top????
All of our Brooklyn love,
Will & Meg