The best mermaids are in Coney Island
According to Irish folklore (kind of), when my boyfriend dies, he will return to sea as a merman. I had to do some research…
When my boyfriend dies, he’d like to be pushed out to sea so he can become a merman.
There’s an old folktale about a family in County Kerry who would leave their dead on the beach. Their ancient burial site lay beneath Ballyheigue Bay, and so by placing the coffins on the shore, the rising tide would carry the bodies to sea—reuniting the dead with their ancestors. In the story, a drunk and curious nay-sayer decides to stay up one night to witness the eerie sea abduction. As the sea spirits prepare to retrieve the coffin, they see the human and declare their secret ritual officially over. No family member has been taken to sea since.
I guess after a few rounds of telephone and some light edits, my boyfriend’s “Director’s Cut” is that he’ll become a merman after his death. He’s quite insistent that it would be my job to haul his dead body to Ireland, find a boat, and then discard him into the sea. But I’m not schlepping my 200-pound ex-model boyfriend across the world to some underwater orgy.
He’s assured me that there are no mermaids—just a dive bar, Guinness, and other pruny mermen with scales for dicks. He is hot and sober so I can’t imagine why drunken fish celibacy would be appealing.
For the sake of research, I journeyed to the shores of Coney Island to attend the annual Mermaid Parade.
Jokes aside, the Mermaid Parade is truly the most joyful day of the year. I’ve been going forever. My mom even found this photo of one of my first parades when I was just a wee mermaid learning that boobs come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and, on this day— neon colors.
And while my purpose this year was to scout out the whorish underwater bachelorettes of my boyfriend’s afterlife— I ended up finding something much better.
Deblynn, Pinnball, and Kaleidoscope Pete. I arrived early to find a good spot and found these characters drinking beer at Flywheel Eats. Pinnball was wearing a CBGBs shirt under suspenders and Deblynn was wearing this fantastic Dr. Seussian straw hat. I knew they were fabulous even before meeting them.
Kaleidoscope Pete, who pulled a thumb-sized kaleidoscope from a holster on his belt to hold it up to my eye, has been making these beautiful instruments for over 25 years. Like his pal, he was a fixture at CBGBs, filming sets and selling the footage to bands or record labels, splitting the profits 50-50 with the artists.
Recently, he retired from making kaleidoscopes to spend time riding his bicycle. He joined the Jersey Devils Bicycle Club and rides with them every day. They have a really rad logo, a wide-faced devil with a missing tooth, which they wear on leather vests. He told me that a few weeks ago they were stopped by (redacted) bike gang who jacked their vests!!!!! Just proves how badass these guys are.
Speaking of bike gangs, Deblynn used to live in “the clubhouse,” which anyone cooler than me would know references the (now defunct) Hells Angels clubhouse on E 3rd St. There were too many interesting stories to consume at once so I’m going out to Jersey to take her to lunch and hear all about it. We exchanged numbers before she and Pinnball rushed off to ride the Cyclone before the park got too busy. Kaleidoscope Pete’s wife died last year, so he stayed with us to get his flirt on.
Here are some more photos from the day.
It’s 99 degrees in New York right now and it’s nice to be reminded why we live here.
i love this and your beautiful photographs 🩷
Love how you brought in the Irish story with the Mermaid Festival. And love your photos. I remember that day. You may not remember some crazy guy almost ran over you in his vintage sports car and got hyper angry at me for banging on the marine blue trunk to stop him!