January 8, 2015
The air was cold that day, my friends, like an old man trying to send back cold soup in a deli. Or something, I don’t know, but it was freezing. New Years Eve was easily the coldest day of the winter up to that point. Many years ago I spent New Year’s Eve in Times Square and I vowed “bust it!” Hey, I told you, it was a long time ago and that was cutting edge hip hop for white people. I think what I really meant was, in the words of Bobby Brown from My Prerogative, “I made this money, you didn’t. Right Ted? We outta here.” Give me a break, it was the 80’s. The point is, I vowed never to spend another New Year like that again.
Anyway, that was my coldest New Year’s Eve until this one. This year, for the first time ever, Coney Island was hosting a New Year’s Eve Ball Drop by the world famous and iconic Parachute Jump. (That’s a real deal landmark, folks.) They were anticipating huge crowds. I was anticipating freezing cold, and given the fact that the Coney Island boardwalk is right on the water with a cold wind blowing in, I was right.
But they were wrong about the crowds. It was deserted.
To Be Continued.
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