Tag: Coney Island Polar Bears

Dan’s Attacked With Moldy Bread

Jerry and Gili were playing quietly. Gili was getting bigger. Jerry watched over her. She was strong. She still loved her milk. Sarah and David Benjamin were eating their baby food. Anat was briefed on their superpowers. She was ready. She expected her day with the twins and her kids to be relaxed.

The Drop on the Cyclone, Luna Park, Brooklyn, NY

She played Bauhaus the Cure in the background. She understood the kids would listen to whatever they wanted when they got older and developed an appreciation for music. But she wanted to push them towards goth. Who wouldn’t? 

Anat was working on her taxes. In a switch from his usual beat of Staten Island’s south shore, Dan was out in the frigid weather patrolling Coney Island undercover. His expertise was required. Nothing unusual was happening. The Coney Island Polar Bears were in the water. People were eating hot dogs in Nathan’s, and parents took their bundled-up kids to the NY Aquarium. It seemed like a normal winter day at the beach. He texted Anat he’d be home in about two or three hours and asked if she wanted him to pick up pizza from L&B Spumoni Gardens. Of course, she said yes. Saying no would be criminal. 

The polars bears were exiting the water. Near the Cyclone, some kids were goofing off. But nothing Dan had to address. As he walked back to his car, he noticed a tall girl, about 18 or 19, wearing a stained blue sweatshirt with the name “Christy A.” running down both sleeves. She was taunting some of the other kids. Dan figured it was just a group of kids goofing off. He didn’t see it as a threat. Until he saw moldy, stale bread flying at some of the kids. One piece clocked a girl in the head. She fell. He raced over to her to see if she needed help. Bread with larvae was flying everywhere. He saw Christy A. shooting it out of her mouth and hands. He yelled at her to stop. She started to jump up and down. Pieces of bread almost nailed him in the throat. Christy’s hair was fire red, as was her face. He pulled out his weapon and fired three shots. All were knocked down by bread.

Christy raced toward the subway station. Dan chased her. She nailed him in the eyes. He temporarily lost his vision. She hopped on the F line. She did tap her OMNY card. At least she didn’t jump the fare.

Dan immediately texted Anat. You’d think he would have texted the Coney Island Precinct that is in the subway station at Stillwell Avenue. He knew this was something that Anat and her “family” would handle better.

Be Prepared – Wear Boots

Most readers know I am an Eagle Scout. Many likely know the Scout Motto is “Be Prepared.” The meaning of this takes on many definitions. The more formal, as written by our founder in the Boy Scout Handbook, is you are always in a state of readiness in mind and body to do your duty. Of course, being prepared can also mean you have the tools you need to do your duty.

One of the tools needed, whether in scouts or anywhere else, is a good pair of boots. No, this story will not be about the Boot. That’s an inside joke. It will be about the importance of protecting your feet. I have owned a few pairs of Timberlands. I currently own the classic boot and a more recreational pair. Those boots are still waterproof and do their job. Of course, I have my Docs. I love them, too.

A few years ago, I spent about two weeks in Iceland. The weather was great. We did lots of hiking; the freshly caught salmon and cod were “lish,” another inside joke meaning delicious. The weather was typical Icelandic. It was warm, and suddenly it started to rain, snow, or hail. I was on many trails. Some people were wearing sneakers. Not I. I had my trusted boots. My feet stayed dry the whole time. At one point, I thought they were wet. That is not the case. My feet were a little sweaty. A quick boot sock adjustment cured it all. Those in sneakers were not happy.

I often take pictures of the Coney Island Polar Bears. One day, I hope to go in. One of them has told me I should. She said it is exhilarating. I often walk right into the water in, yes, you guessed it, my boots. As usual, my feet stay dry. I only went a little deeper than the length of the Timberlands.

I spent about two weeks in the Republic of and Northern Ireland a few weeks ago. Wonderful place. I highly recommend it. A co-worker did a similar trip two weeks before I did. She said to make sure you have appropriate footwear. I flew out in my boots and wore them nonstop. I had my Skechers sneakers in my suitcase. I put them on at night when we finish our day trips. Many were beautiful hikes along the spectacular Irish countryside. We had periods of mist and rain. Some people were in sandals or sneakers. Were they happy? No, their feet were soaked. One morning, we didn’t have any significant hikes planned. I was up at the crack of dawn. I always am. It was one of the days we had a later start. Some people chose to sleep in. Not I. I walked and walked in my sneakers. I saw a lighthouse. The road was dry. The path of the building was wet. About 20 minutes into my walk, my feet were drenched through my socks. I never made it to the lighthouse—no big deal. I saw many. I returned to the hotel and changed into my Timberlands with fresh boot socks. 

Iceland and Ireland have unique hand-knit wool products. In both nations, I purchased several pairs of socks. Nothing beats them on a cold, wet day. Since I came home from Dublin, we’ve had heavy rain. You know the drill.

Well, it’s time for a hike. See you on the trails.