Let's Run Away

I have lived in New York all my life, and I'm damn proud of that. I wouldn't have it any other way. And, like most of my fellow New Yorkers, I have never been to the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, Ellis Island, or ridden the Cyclone at Coney Island. As of this afternoon, I can check the Cyclone off my list.

A few friends and I trekked off to Coney Island this afternoon. I was the only one humming Atlantic City from Ragtime. Curious. But we had fun. We rode the Cyclone, got ripped off at the side show, and ate Nathan's hot dogs. My, how far hath Coney Island fallen. My grandfather used to tell me stories about steeple chases, weight guessers, custard stands, and spook house. Guess what. I didn't see any of those things. I saw a lot of fat half-naked people and a few rides. That was about it. I guess I'm hard to impress.

The Cyclone was fun, though. I'm a roller coaster person. Nitro and Kingda Ka were some of the biggest head rushes I've ever experienced. All the Cyclone really did was smack me around. Maybe that's why the seat were covered in six inches of padding. I look just ginger peachy in the picture from the ride. My hair is flying back, my eyes are closed, and my mouth is open. I looked better in the Kingda Ka picture. I'm not kidding. In that one, I'm laughing and my hair is flying out around me. I've been told it makes me look like Farrah Fawcett, God rest her soul.

After that, we forked over five bucks to see the Great Headless Woman. It was a lady in scrubs (?) sitting with her head behind a curtain. Ah, the rip-offery of the side show has not changed in all these years. Come on, how could I NOT visit the side show? No self-respecting Daisy and Violet fan would have been able to resist it.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Love,
The midget, the stripper, Wayne the snake, and Mrs. Jamie Wellerstein. That's me.