A Striking Resemblance / Un Parecido Sorprendente

I CONTINUE TO go through old photos and came across images of my grandfather, my father, and myself. All taken on the beach. The photo of my grandfather was taken around 1921. My mother took the photo of my father in the summer of 1948. Both those photos were taken on Coney Island in Brooklyn. The one of me was at Oyster Bay, Long Island, in 1960. We had moved up in the world. Four years later, we were back at Coney Island. I know! It’s almost impossible to tell us apart. HINT: I’m the one in the baggy boxer shorts.

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SIGO REVISANDO FOTOS antiguas y encontré imágenes de mi abuelo, mi padre, y yo. Todas fueron tomadas en la playa. La foto de mi abuelo fue tomada alrededor de 1921. Mi madre tomó la foto de mi padre en el verano de 1948. Ambas fotos estaban en Coney Island en Brooklyn. La foto de mí estaba en Oyster Bay, Long Island, en 1960. Habíamos ascendido en el mundo. Cuatro años más tarde, estábamos de vuelta en Coney Island. ¡Yo sé! Es casi imposible distinguirnos. PISTA: Soy el de los calzoncillos holgados.

Every Moment Is Of Moment

I’m working diligently, although not always successfully, to stop dwelling in the past after my month in New York reliving, reconnecting, and rehashing so many of those moments that made me who I am now. Many moments I prefer to leave behind … in New York… forever.

I won’t whine. I won’t tell you of all the oh-so-sad moments in my past. There were also plenty of oh-so-happy moments. They’re just not always oh-so-easy to remember.

Instead, here are moments of wonder: The 2016 Coney Art Walls (click here for the 2015 Coney Art Walls, and other moments from the not-so-distant past).

Any moment, big or small, is a moment after all…

American Man Buns And More

It’s time for another installment of my man bun (and men’s buns) collection. I caught these during our travels around the United States in August and September.

(Click the images for enhanced buns. Go ahead, take a ‘crack’ at it.)

A MANNEQUIN AT NORDSTROM DEPARTMENT STORE, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON.
(JUDY PULLED THE JACKET DOWN AS WE PASSED. I PULLED IT BACK UP.)
CONEY ISLAND, NEW YORK; BALLARD AND DOWNTOWN SEATTLE, WASHINGTON;
 FLIGHT FROM MINNEAPOLIS TO NEW YORK; AIRTRAIN IN KENNEDY AIRPORT.
HE ROLLED OFF THE BOARDWALK AND HEADED HOME LIKE THAT!
I DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY WERE ALL LOOKING AT;
I FOUND MY VIEW MUCH MORE INTERESTING.
PLUS, MAN AND WOMAN BUNS… AND BUNS.

Please Don’t Talk To The Lifeguard

I’m fine. Still not brilliant. Still not completely awful.

Yada yada yada. That’s all I’ll say about my mood.

Oh, except one more thing…

Am I ever grateful to San Geraldo for being my lifeguard (socorrista, in Spanish).

Speaking of lifeguards, I find the cultural differences between those in New York and those here in Fuengirola to be fascinating.

So, here are some Brighton Beach/Coney Island lifeguards and Fuengirola socorristas… for totally academic cultural-anthropological comparison, of course.

(Click any image for the bigger picture.)

CONEY ISLAND. 
BIKINIS AND BODIES-BEAUTIFUL STILL CLUSTER.
CONEY ISLAND LIFEGUARD SWINGING HIS WHISTLE.
A FRIENDLY WAVE FROM A FUENGIROLA SOCORRISTA.
FUENGIROLA SOCORRISTA ON PATROL.

Guess I’ll swim way out into the sea…

Confusing Camisetas

Camiseta is the Spanish word for T-shirt. Especially popular here are T-shirts displaying the names of American destinations, universities, and teams.

Most of the T-shirts are made in China. Printed in English. For a Spanish audience.

New York City — Manhattan, Brooklyn, [The] Bronx, and Staten Island are commonly featured. But rarely correctly. (The fifth borough, Queens, doesn’t get much play.) 

(Click the images. Some will get bigger. None will make more sense.)

WHOA. THIS MUST HAVE BEEN A REALLY TOUGH GANG…
THEY HAD THEIR OWN 100% COTTON, PRE-SHRUNK T-SHIRTS. (I WONDER WHAT THE CITY CREW DID.)

Just the other day I passed someone wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the name of that great American university, New York City State. Although I myself have never heard of it, I’m sure it must be huge. After all, someone made T-shirts.

THERE’S AN ADDRESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS “1978 BROOKLYN” SHIRT,
I DON’T KNOW WHAT WAS AT 235 MYRTLE AVENUE IN 1978,
BUT IT’S NOT THERE NOW.

One morning, while Judyshannonstreetwhat (click here for that post) was still here, we were having coffee downstairs at Cafe El Noventa when a little boy walked by with his mother. As you may remember, Judy is from Seattle, Washington, and so, apparently, was the little boy’s T-shirt.

JUDY HAD NEVER HEARD OF A ROAD NAMED ROUTE 306,
I QUICKLY GOOGLED IT;  IT’S NOT A ROAD BUT A CITY TRANSIT BUS LINE.
AND IT DEFINITELY WON’T TAKE YOU TO LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA,
WHICH IS 1,828 KM (1,136 MILES) SOUTH.
A VISITOR FROM MOROCCO, WITH HIS PARENTS AND BROTHER.
THEY HAD NO IDEA WHAT “CONEY ISLA ND BEA CH” WAS.
(NOR HAVE I EVER SEEN PALM TREES AND AGAVES GROWING THERE.)

DAVID (Dah-VEED), AT CAFE EL NOVENTA,
WEARING ONE OF HIS FAVORITE OLD T-SHIRTS.
I ASKED DAVID WHAT “WATCHING UPPER” WAS (OTHER THAN AN “HONOUR”).
HIS RESPONSE: “NO TENGO IDEA.” (“I HAVE NO IDEA.”)  HE ASSUMED I WOULD KNOW.

I don’t get it…