Monday



there is a man named morris barkey, age 92, who lives at luna park. he told us what coney island used to be like, how he used to go smooch with the ladies at steeplechase, how he'd fought in a war, and how he could play any tune we named--"but just the right hand".

we couldn't get away, but we didn't actually want to get away. we left and came back, and when we returned morris was sitting on a bench looking out at the water, waiting for his next new best friends to arrive.

we also watched men fishing and not catching anything. kids jumping off the pier that was marked 'no diving'. a little league game.

i think today marks my best trip to the end of the Q train.

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