The imperative form, Coney Island edition

I don’t remember the signs around the boardwalk being so bossy before.

looka

getit
And yes, I’m going to keep using the word “bossy.” These signs were not simply exhibiting leadership skills.

 

’round the corner, fudge is made

One thing I find a little troublesome about Manhattan is that because there are so many trained artists around, there is precious little storefront art. It’s hard to get your cousin to paint a crude picture of a diaper box on the side of your market when there are ten MFAs willing to do a version in the style of your choice in exchange for a couple of Lotto tickets.

I did, however, meet some really nice folks in Coney Island. There was the dapper Mr. Shrimp:

He had quite a sense of humor, that Mr. Shrimp. I’m still wondering about that lemonade he gave me.

Then there was Chiefito and his sister Chiefita:

So sweet. So fluffy. And of course I’ll never forget the nice folks at the clam bar:

Was that a clam-flavored ice cream cone? They weren’t much for talking, so I never found out. There were these other guys at the next table, though, who offered me a really big hot dog.

I think they were in some sort of big-hat/double-entendre gang with Mr. Shrimp. Ha ha, big-hat guys. Anyway, nice to meet you all. I hope we can get together again soon.

Movie marathon

It seems that something happened to me when I went to New York recently. I documented a lot of interesting things but for some reason have been unable to share them with you. I will attempt to rectify that immediately. Sorry for the vertical composition – New York is a tall city.

Hootcha-a ma kootch

The moral ambiguity of this cartoon is a little troubling to me when watching it today, but maybe things weren’t so black and white in the Great Depression. What happened to the children? Didn’t Mariutch have a gang of children she was with? And why is her husband happy when she finds out she’s actually a stripper? I won’t even comment on the Italian organ grinder with a monkey stereotype. Oh, wait; I just did. Still, I have to love any cartoon with a good giraffe gag. Take it away, plucky immigrant fellow:

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