Ever since I was a little girl my family has had this wonderfully bizarre tradition of spending Easter Sunday at Coney Island in Brooklyn. At first though it’s not the most romantic place to be these days but there’s always been something quite magical about the whole experience.
Every year we’d park right in front of Nathan’s Famous, order our food, and sit on the hood of my Dad’s car to eat our holiday dinner. Yep, we’d be one of those folks indulging in those deliciously unhealthy signature hot dogs (once priced at 5¢ a piece) covered with as much spicy mustard it could hold and quenching our thirst with this orange Tang kind of drink I could never quite put my finger on. But boyyyy … was it good!
All the while we’d be just mesmerized by the array of people who were behind us in line completing their orders and juggling the cardboard boxes filled with their special Easter meal too. All along knowing the best part was still to come. For after our opulent dining experience was done it was guaranteed my Mom would be taking us to the carousel, (never failed). Predictably it’d be followed by a friendly competition on the bumper cars (where they still have the best music in town by the way), and topped off with a double ride on the terror driven Cyclone. Really… could it get any better?
The drawing above is a study for a painting I’m working on from a collection of childhood memories – hope you like it, Michele