Tag Archives: superstition

Conclusion: New Year’s Eve in Brooklyn 2014/2015

12 Jan

 

January 12, 2014

At this point I realized that I could have made a fortune selling hot chocolate. I had given Saarah my hat to wear, and now not only was my head freezing but also my hands since I had no gloves. So I was forced to break into the emergency kit I keep in the trunk. I took out a stained and battered Mets cap (only in an emergency would I wear a Mets cap) and a pair of work gloves which had just under the maximum number of holes allowed so I could keep calling them gloves. One more hole and they would technically just be a bunch of loosely connected threads.

Other items in my emergency kit: Flashlight with dead batteries and a funnel.

Thus fortified, we waited until 9:15 and briskly walked back to the “party,” which was now threatening to maybe, possibly, start.

The DJ equipment was set up but the only music was coming from a CD player someone put on a chair next to the DJ equipment. The carousel had still not opened and showed no indications of opening, despite the icicle-laden folks hoping in vain to get in out of the cold. However, the tent was set up and it looked like something was happening.

And it was! Yes!

Two grumpy volunteers were handing out party favors from a pair of insanely small boxes. I was worried that even this tiny crowd may not all get favors so I checked- no other boxes stashed under the table and nothing stashed in the barricaded area with the CD player. I did a quick count- about 30 people on line, about 15 huddled and shivering near the carousel, and another 20 to 30 gathering around the music area where something was clearly and absolutely not going to happen anytime soon. But don’t worry, the volunteers were strictly rationing the party supplies. Each would-be reveler got their choice of either a party hat or a noisemaker. One only. And which one you got was not up to you, it was up whichever volunteer handed you something first. So if you brought your own party hat you may wind with another party hat despite only having one head. (And no party.)

Saarah and I each got hats, which was what we wanted. We took one last loop around the place to make sure we weren’t missing anything, and believe me, we had already had the full Coney Island party experience.

Our ball drop experience ended the same way the last one I went to did, so many years ago back in the 80’s, in the words of Bobby Brown from My Prerogative, “I made this money, you didn’t. Right Ted? We outta here.” So we left. (See Part 1)

There was a steady stream of cars leaving the parking lot with us.

Coney Island, I am very disappointed in you.

 

The End

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Part 4: New Year’s Eve in Brooklyn 2014/2015

11 Jan

January 11, 2014

Saarah and I got out of the car. Our reason? Somebody had to get the party started. Oh no, not me. I’m never that person. But I figured someone had to be and maybe we’d find him. We went over to the only brightly lit area, which was between the parachute jump and the carousel and wonder of wonders, there were people there!

About 15 of them, all very, very visibly cold. There were some little kids wrapped in blankets, looking around with big glassy eyes, wondering why they were being punished. Most of the people were gathered around the entrance to the carousel building, which although barricaded and locked, was lit up so maybe, just maybe, they’d be let in and could thaw out.

A few people were standing around an area between the jump and carousel which was barricaded off and inside was a lone man setting up some DJ equipment. The ad had promised “the best local music artists” but none were to be seen. Laid out on the ground a few feet away were some tent poles. Why all the prep was left to the last minute was beyond me, but then again, it isn’t like there were overwhelming crowds to deal with.

It was still a few minutes before nine and, satisfied that we were in the right place (and that this was not some population control measure to do away with idiots who show up and freeze to death) we ran back to the car to wait for the “party,” and at this point I really have to put that in quotation marks, to start.

As we rushed back to the parking lot, we almost knocked over a man in his 50’s who had stopped to photograph a little sneaker laying on the pavement that some little child had lost.

Or maybe he just put it there himself. Lots of odd people in Coney Island.

 

To Be Continued

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