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In our humble opinion, Dino’s Wonder Wheel in Coney Island is one demonic ride of a ferris wheel due to it being 90 years old, made out of steel that has been rusting directly on the oceanfront that is Coney Island and for its cages that roll rickety around an oval as the wheel turns that makes us see our lives flash before us.
Yet it is quite nice and peaceful to look at.
For the past couple of years Fiancee has taken part in the Brooklyn Cyclones’ Race Against Cancer — though last year the runner bibs stated that it was a race FOR cancer.
We’re glad to see that this year they didn’t risk any mistake of stating that the race was supporting cancer — though we can still only hope that the race was actually raising money to fight cancer and not in support for it.
Whenever we take the subway out to Coney Island we inevitably end up waiting several minutes for the track switches to change before proceeding into the station and are left with this view.
And this view makes us feel as though it should have been used in a 1980s sitcom, preferably one that starred Jim J. Bullock.
The other day we were off to hell the Coney Island DMV and strolled past the Cyclone.
We didn’t ride the Cyclone that day and it was a major chore to not go on it. The mere sight of the Cyclone screams for us to go on it and then terrify us every step of the ride. From the anticipating of the coaster to pull into the station to the click, click, click of it going up the first hill, to the first drop that makes our eyes bug out of our head, to the first two high curves that leaves us feeling as though the coaster will topple over from us jolting around them one day to the many up and down hills that mark the last several seconds of the ride that make you feel more accomplished and alive for having survived the ride than just about anything else around.
Despite our terrifying love for the Cyclone we have a problem with it — we forget which set of cars are what we call the death cars. The death cars are the ones that get an extra jolt at each and every curve. The death cars feel as though ten Mack trucks slam into it throughout the ride and leave us bouncing around in our seats so much and so hard that we are left black and blue after riding it once, or rather riding it three times in a row because that’s the only way to ride the Cyclone.
We remember that it definitely isn’t the front or back sets of cars and that the death cars are surprisingly somewhere in the middle. Does anyone out there know what we’re talking about and can remember which cars are the ones that do this?
Most transplants to New York, or people who live too far from Coney Island to feesably walk or bike to it have probably only seen the parachute drop in Coney Island from up close and underneath it.
While it’s cool up close, it’s a completely different beast when seeing it in a frame of reference with tall buildings (and a crain) in the much nearer foreground across Gravesend Bay — or Caesars Bay, if you’re an idiot from Brooklyn who doesn’t understand that Caesars Bay was only a marketplace named after a man named Caesar, and not the actual name of the bay.