A couple of weeks ago I had the good fortune to venture up to Brooklyn once more for
Coney Island USA's 26th Annual Mermaid Parade. Not knowing how the city and developers would carve up the amusement district by next year, I felt I had to go this year in case this was the last time one might experience Coney Island in its present state (incidentally, you can weigh before July 11th to
help save Coney Island, so get cracking).
It took me a bit longer than I expected to get across Staten Island and find a place on 24th to park (oddly enough, exactly where I found a spot last year), so the parade was already underway by the time I arrived. I started to walk up Surf Avenue to find the friends with whom I'd been paying phone tag, but found my way blocked by the staging area — which at that point was being occupied by the cohorts of none other than the Mayor of Coney Island and grand poobah of Coney Island USA himself,
Dick Zigun. However, I was most interested to see that among the mayor's courtier's was Mr. Short-armed and Dangerous,
Mat Fraser — a man with whom I've been corresponding for years but hadn't yet had the opportunity to meet.
I found a way through the staging area and towards the reviewing stand where friends
Kathleen and
Cris were passing the time sheltered from the sun. As I was standing in the crowd on the opposite side of the street, we communicated through phone and arm gestures and came to the understanding that we would meet up after the parade, so I continued eastward looking for a decent vantage point.
Along the way, I encountered all manner of nearly nude females clad only in wigs, pasties and fishtails, which is one of the prime attractions of the spectacle. By the standards of say, Rio or New Orleans, the Mermaid Parade is fairly tame in this regard — but for the northeast it's positively scandalous, and deliciously so. I found a spot right at the mouth of 10th Avenue across from the Cyclone that was only four people deep, so I waded in to secure my claim to a few square feet of pavement.
Since where I was standing was beyond the reviewing stand, many of the parade participants seemed to have given up on the idea of performance by the time they reached us and were just wandering aimlessly. But every so often a troupe would come by that still felt compelled to perform: psychedelic mermen, hula-hoopists, etc.
As with last year, there was a mummer string band. As a Philadelphian, this transplanted South Philly mummery leaves me feeling slightly annoyed and embarrassed (jayzuz, can't you guys be content with Broad Street on New Year's Day?), but the banjos and elaborate costumes seem to go down well with the crowd here. In a parade that tends to nudity, these mummers are by far the most modest in their attire — if you can consider covering oneself in sequins, mirrors and feathers modest.
After a few hours in the hot sun, the parade wound down. Kathleen called to say we should meet in the Freak Bar at Sideshows by the Seashore, but I first wanted to wander around and put to use the Hasselblad that I'd been lugging around (and which was simply too bulky to use during the parade itself), so I ambled around looking for likely subjects.
Outside of Sideshows by the Seashore,
'Nick Nack' was doing a straightjacket escape on the bally. I watched for a few minutes and then went inside. The first person I bumped into — almost as soon as I crossed the threshold — was
Brett Loudermilk. We chatted for a while and were soon joined by Cris and Kathleen. I ordered a few Coney Island Lagers, and then it seemed like every few minutes there was someone new to meet:
The Black Scorpion, Joe Coleman, and the aforementioned Mat Fraser.
Anyway, long story short, we spent several hours in the bar talking and laughing, checked out the show, and eventually headed over to the Mermaid Ball. A good time was had by all.
I'd go into more detail, but Declan is screaming for attention.
All photographs are copyright © James G. Mundie 2008You can see more photos in the
Mermaid Parade 2008 set on my Flickr pages.