From the Hell-Frozen-Over Department

My wife and I share few interests besides a strong desire that the Earth not crash into the Sun. Somewhat unfairly, I even have started to assume that if something looks like fun to me, it won't interest her. So when I read about the annual Mermaid Parade on Coney Island, I thought it looked like a lot of fun--what with all the weird people cavorting in weird, skimpy costumes and all. I figured my wife would hate it, for much the same reasons.

Last night, my wife asked me, "Do you want to go to the Mermaid Parade?" Hell, yes. And so today we went.

It was really neat. It was also so hot that we almost melted.

At the head of the parade were two fire engines that gently sprayed the crowd with water. Everyone applauded the firemen and the water.

There followed a series of cars, mostly from the '50s and '60s. Many cars had been souped-up, and many were convertibles with the top down and pretty mermaids draped across the hoods and trunks. The drivers would periodically burn rubber and lurch ahead ten to fifteen feet, then wait for the next chance to lurch ahead. This was not always a good idea; a mermaid tumbled off the back of one car and landed on the street. She brushed herself off and climbed back on the car, apparently without suffering any sort of road rash.

The costumes and floats were mostly amazing. The Dance Liberation Front put in a welcome appearance.

By the time the last float passed, though, we we tired, hot, and exhausted, so we left before the float-less mermaids walked by. I'm sure we missed the best part of the parade.

We went home and napped, then we made dinner, with ingredients mostly from the Union Square Greenmarket, and from the herb garden we have created in flower boxes on our fire escape. All in all, a good day.

Tomorrow, my wife and I will be photographed for a Japanese Rolex ad. It's just weird.