The beach is ordinary, the carnival is simple, and the food plain. Yet, Coney Island is one of the most incredible places I have ever visited. It is the people that make it special. The location hosts a collection of fascinating human beings. Wide ranges of age, size, color, weight, culture, and style are apparent. It is a bustling ant farm for any deity that might exist. It seems almost experimental, as if a mad scientist was testing the interactions between dissimilar subjects. The beach is overwhelmingly frequented by the working class, giving the whole scene an authenticity lacking among the meat-packing district types of the best parts of Manhattan. Each person is unique, blaringly so, and apparently disinterested in fitting a predetermined mold. My heart was filled by the sights that entered my eyes. I could have sat along the boardwalk and observed for the entire day. I soaked in the diversity until I felt had sufficient reserves for my eventual return back to de facto segregated Texas. It was a utopia, not because everything was perfect, but because imperfect people enjoyed a Saturday among one another in harmony. What an extraordinary place.
The beach is ordinary, the carnival is simple, and the food plain. Yet, Coney Island is one of the most incredible places I have ever visited. It is the people that make it special. The location hosts a collection of fascinating human beings. Wide ranges of age, size, color, weight, culture, and style are apparent. It is a bustling ant farm for any deity that might exist. It seems almost experimental, as if a mad scientist was testing the interactions between dissimilar subjects. The beach is overwhelmingly frequented by the working class, giving the whole scene an authenticity lacking among the meat-packing district types of the best parts of Manhattan. Each person is unique, blaringly so, and apparently disinterested in fitting a predetermined mold. My heart was filled by the sights that entered my eyes. I could have sat along the boardwalk and observed for the entire day. I soaked in the diversity until I felt had sufficient reserves for my eventual return back to de facto segregated Texas. It was a utopia, not because everything was perfect, but because imperfect people enjoyed a Saturday among one another in harmony. What an extraordinary place.
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