Soaring 150 feet in a swinging car on
The Wonder Wheel! Paying $8 for a
minute and 50 seconds of downright
terror on The Cyclone! (I swear my
car lifted off the wooden tracks at one
point.) Debating the merits of a chili
dog versus a chili cheese dog - I waited
an hour in line at Nathan's - steps away
from where the annual hot-dog eating
contest takes place every Fourth of July.
I settled for a plain dog with ketchup
and mustard and devoured it in less
than a minute. Strolling the Boardwalk
from Shoot the Freak -- $3 will buy you
5 shots - I continued on to Lola Staar's

Dreamland Roller Rink with its disco
tunes. And probably, the most exciting,
was screaming like an 8-year-old girl on
the Tilt-a-Whirl while the actual 8-yearold
girl riding with us just laughed at me.
It's hard to imagine Coney Island
without any of these things. The
Wonder Wheel and The Cyclone are
official New York City landmarks, so
they're not going anywhere.

But soon, high-priced condos and a
TGIF restaurant instead of carnival
games and sideshows could surround
them. Coney Island is not Disneyland.
It is not Six Flags. And that is precisely
why I like it, why so many people like it.
And to lose any part - yes, even the trash
and grime and creepy-looking people
with tons of piercings and tattoos, who
are actually really quite nice - would be
losing what makes Coney Island unique,
albeit a little freaky. And I wouldn't want
it any other way.

* Coney Island is a peninsula, formerly
an island, in southernmost Brooklyn,
New York City, USA, with a beach on
the Atlantic Ocean. The neighborhood
of the same name is a community of
60,000 people in the western part of
the peninsula, with Seagate to its west;
Brighton Beach and Manhattan Beach to
its east; and Gravesend to the north.