Sunday, January 2, 2011

My daughter Summer and I are swept up in the crowd heading up the ramp toward the Coney Island boardwalk. In an instant, I look around, and cannot find my husband and son anywhere. There is the loud thump of a bass and we see someone dressed in a pink gorilla suit, wildly gyrating to music. There are grown men walking around in diapers and drinking from huge baby bottles.

Summer and I plunk down our stuff and start undressing at the edge of the boardwalk. We strip down to our bathing suits, put on fleece robes and sandals. We observe the swarms of people, families and lovers, an older gray-haired couple, muscled, tanned, tattooed and pierced.

We head down to the beach, stepping on snow as the sun warms our backs. A man is lying on the snow in a cheesecake pose as someone snaps a picture of him.

A tattooed bride in a blue bikini and silver garter runs in the snow, her white veil sailing behind her.

We wander down the beach, looking for sea glass. I find a piece of worn green glass, and put it in my pocket, a souvenir for my six-year-old daughter, who will take her first dip in the ocean. She was always afraid of the beach, the sand would bother her skin and the movement of the waves would terrify her, as if the water would swallow her.

The beach seems alive today, with swarms of people, like ants, laughing and smoking, jumping and singing, happy just to be here on this beautiful winter day, to celebrate the New Year with hundreds of strangers.

People start to run into the water, and Summer and I drop our robes and take off our sandals. Summer clings to my chest like a monkey, and suddenly I am running into the water, laughing and screaming, "Happy New Yeeeeeaaaaaarrrrrr!!!!" The water stings my legs, like a thousand nettles. It wakes up my skin, and all of my organs are alive, squirming inside me.

Summer has the widest smile I've ever seen, and we run back and put on our robes, looking at all of the people still splashing in the water, like an octopus with hundreds of arms.

We are baptized in the cold waters of Coney Island, cleansed of last year and free to begin our life again.