"So In Love"

Strolling Coney Island with your best girl.
"So Much In Love"

Poor Man's Riviera on Memorial Day Sunday

"This could be the best day in this kid's life, even if he lives to be a hundred." Yesterday, at the Poor Man's Riviera, Coney Island.

Doesn't the Coney Island mobile home bathroom left on the beach after Sandy look like the set from Woody Allen's "Sleeper?"

1967, Mr. Murphy took five of us knuckleheads to Coney by subway, i lost my eyeglasses and spent my first day there taking in sounds and smells with limited sight. stole pretzels, fat cop chased us, and we had a re-ride on Cyclone thanks to Mr. Murphy springing for all of us.

Coney Island Baby ~ Going, Going, Gone...

Rode Coney Island in the fog this morning and snapped pictures of the barely alive old Playland building on  Bowery Street between Surf Avenue and the Boardwalk.  Below the now shots are Coney and Playland pictures I took three three years ago.  You see the amusement building was fully intact and the 100 year old Johnny Pump in front was not totally covered by overgrowth. Quietly, without fanfare, it's  vanishing.  Coney Island Baby, going, going, gone...

Coney Island Baby ~ Tom Waits

Every night she comes to take me out to dreamland.
When I'm with her, I'm the richest man in town.
She's a rose, she's the pearl,
She's the spin on my world.
All the stars make their wishes on her eyes.
She's my Coney Island Baby,

She's my Coney Island Girl.

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My Blog Entry on Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Coney Island Baby


Coney Island Baby
by Tom Waits

Every night she comes to take me out to dreamland.
When I'm with her, I'm the richest man in town.
She's a rose, she's the pearl,
She's the spin on my world.
All the stars make their wishes on her eyes.
She's my Coney Island Baby,
She's my Coney Island Girl.
She's a princess, in a red dress,
She's the moon in the mist to me.
She's my Coney Island Baby,
She's my Coney Island Girl.

































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Happy Birthday, Joannie Baloney

Joan Heuer, the funniest person I've ever met, was born today in 1935 in East Harlem.

She moved to Yorkville with the Ryan family in 1944. Joannie was my godmother and my Mom's middle sister, her younger sister, Barbara is in pictures above along with one of Uncle Mommy below at Joannie's daughter, Christine's christening. Also a picture of chubbsy-ubsy Joannie at Coney Island in 1945.

Best Joannie story... my Uncle Lennie comes home from the Navy in 1945. Joannie, ten years old, lazes around the house while everyone else goes to work or goes to school. She's alone. She's playing hookey. Joannie takes Lennie dress
whites out and puts them on.

The pants drag by half a foot, so she rolls them up and pins them. Does the same thing with the arms, but doesn't need much there because Lenny is skinny and Joan ain't. Then she gets my grandfather's ancient fishing pole out, empties a tin of Carnation Evaporated Milk into the sink, takes the top off the can, and shes ready to go. Got the pole and the can for the worms. She gets Lennie's sailor hat, double steps the stoop and jumps onto the street. She's dressed this way not to sneak around , she wants people to see her so she turns up 86th Street off York Avenue and gallivants, pole over her shoulder like a continental soldier, whistling while she strolls.


She makes it up to Horn and Hardarts getting all the attention she expected, when walking right at her with his face down in a newspaper is my grandfather. She don't see him because she's making lots of eye contact with people to her left and right. Joannie collides with her father, they make quick eye contact, Joannie takes off running towards Lexington, my grandfather's in pursuit but his strengths are sitting and complaining. Joan runs around the corner and down to 222 East 85 St and hides out with Uncle Jimmy for a half hour. From the stoop, he gives her the signal the coast is clear and Joan comes out of the hall, kisses Jimmy on the cheek and runs over to the Central Park with a loaf of stale bread in case she don't find any worms. She got back in time to wait for my grandmother to get off the bus after work. In the house, she hid behind her mother in the kitchen while her father circled the two of them, yelling, threatening, pointing but ultimately running out of steam.


I miss you, Joan.

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Lonelyville ~ Coney Island Winter

Its February 29^th tomorrow, the day that extends winter for 24 more hours. I’m one of those weird doe’s that love all the seasons in New York. But near winter’s end, I want light, I want to play outdoors; I want to hang with my friends on stoops and roofs.

When I’m down, Garland Jeffreys music lets me explore those sad feelings and takes me to a safe zone.  Here are two Garland songs. One new, one old, both capture my mood this moment and inspire me.

Here's a link to Coney Island pictures in late February and two Garland Jeffreys tunes.

Coney Island Winter

Lonelyville

The Whole of the Moon Over Central Park

Cleaning yesterday, I came across a cassette a friend made for me in 1990. The Waterboys were new to me at the time. The first three songs on the tape were,“The Whole of the Moon,” “Fisherman’s Blues” & “A Man is in Love.” Each tune took me to a kodachrome place.

Biking east at twilight across the 102nd Street transverse in Central Park last November, I saw the whole of the moon over Fifth Avenue. This past summer I sighted a fisherman who may have been blue, a bird against a blue sky and I definitely saw a man in love on the Coney Island boardwalk walking towards the Parachute Jump arm in arm with his sweetie. 

Songs always lead me to photos and scenes, and scenes and photos always lead me to songs, I’m never alone and easily cheered by all if it.

Coney Island After the Storm

Here are a few more pictures from Coney Island and the Brooklyn Bay after Irene departed late Sunday afternoon.

John Fogarty Walking in a Hurricane.