I have some Canadians staying with me in Brooklyn. They are the opposite of high-maintenance, very laid back and nice to have in the living room. After long days of studying and mini-meltdowns I get to come home and hear about their days and talk about mine. I don't ever want them to leave. Yesterday, they went to Coney Island. It was opening day.
All photos (and thoughts) by Paul Galipeau. Check out his website.
Paul's Daughter...I wonder what her name is and also who is the mama?
Wonder Wheel. I think they closed early. There were a bunch of people coming out with Easter baskets when we got there though.
Nevermind Stacy and Rebecca. They're just a little frazzled. The evening prior, after a few too many peppermint schnapps and Diet Cokes at a particularly heated Take Back the Night rally, they finally gave into the confused sexual tension that's been a healthy supply of masturbatory material for both of them since sophomore year. Things were a little awkward on set the next day. I mean, the taste of Stacy was still on Rebecca's breath for crying out loud. So it's only natural they confused the Connells for another great college rock band of yesteryear, Galaxie 500.
Dean Wareham's foggy stream of consciousness and guitar drones may not scream U-S-A, but our wet, hot American freedom affords us the gift to celebrate the 4th in our own special way. As for me, I'll be here.
What are you doing? Got a handle on a magical Brooklyn rooftop with a perfect view of the fireworks on the Hudson? Going to Coney Island to watch the skinny Japanese dude attempt to reclaim his title/honor amongst some pasty fat dudes? Or, are you doing what you always do on the 4th, dressing up in Colonial-period military garb to wage war with Hessians to take back Long Island?
Whatever you do, wear sunscreen. And stay away from peppermint schnapps. -Megan Metzger
