(In Pictures)
Friday night: My friend Jeffers and I, fueled by a few margaritas, decided to go geo-caching along the Hudson. This picture was taken from Pier I, looking south and back towards the west-side skyline.
Saturday morning: Errands in Soho took me past the Converse store. Tri-colored high-tops in all their (old) glory = appropriately patriotic.
Saturday afternoon: post-Improv rehearsal but pre-thunderstorm, my teammates and I headed down to the docks to see what we could see, Fleet Week-wise. We happened upon this tall ship from Ecuador. The men in orange jumpsuits are sailors (not prisoners) and they were very high up. Scary-awesome to watch them drape themselves over the yardarm, furling a sail. (Is 'furl' the opposite of 'unfurl'? I choose to believe that it is.)
Sunday afternoon: sea-side at Brighton Beach, hanging with my friends The Russians. Stopped in at La Brioche for cream-cheese-based pastries. Because, when in Little Russia...
Followed that with a much-needed walk down the shore to Coney Island. An article in the Times a few months ago reported that the wooden planks of the boardwalk may be replaced, in sections, by a recycled plastic polymer that "looks like wood." Above is a section of said new faux-walk.
Dear reader, I ask, Does that look like wood to you??
Here's a section that hasn't been redone yet. Authentic boardwalk. I hear (I really do) the points in favor of the faux-walk: both economic (wood can cost $1 million/year to maintain (!)), and environmental (a switch to plastic reduces the use of tropical hardwood from endangered rain forests).
And yet. There's nothing so nostalgically beachy and summery as the creaky bounce of a real-deal boardwalk.
Beach volleyball.
Know what that reminds me of?
The Olympics. Less than two months away. Get pumped.
2 comments:
I think your blog needs a minute-by-minute countdown timer to the Olympics!
That timer is my heart, and it ticks for Bob Costas.
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