Take me back to Coney Island, the Coney Island I remember. I want to be on the Boardwalk. I want to sniff the air full of the aroma of spicy exotic food, pop corn and hotdogs. I want to smell the salt air blowing off the ocean and shade my eyes from the gleam of bright sun on white sand.
I want to hear the endless screams of riders on the Cyclone, the squeal of kids discovering how far they can see from the top of the Wonder Wheel.
I want to watch the people, all the different people of every color from everywhere in the world as thy gape at the strange wonders along the boardwalk, hear the rumble of the elevated trains passing.
I want it to be exactly how it was the first time I rode the big roller coasters and screamed in delighted terror. I want to be that child again for a single day, the little girl discovering fear and wonder on a hot summer day when the world was young.
My own numbers almost got lost in the election count the other night. I crossed over the 20,000 mark sometime during the course of election coverage.
20,000 (and a few hundred more)
From February 2012, through the end of September, I gathered 10,000 hits. It took me a few days more than a month to get the next 10,000 hits. As of today, or as of a little while go, I am at 20, 783.
I get a lot more visitors that I used to and they show up regularly. When Serendipity’s visitor count first popped up from 70 or 80 on a good day to more than 600, I figured it was a fluke that would quickly fizzle. It leveled off, but didn’t fizzle.
I feel like Sally Field saying “You like me, you really LIKE me.” I need to say yet another thank you to Sharla at Awakenings and CatnipofLife who has helped me navigate the growth process. I have learned an incredible amount from her and she is such a gracious, good-hearted woman. Sharla, you are a star!
Now, although there are dips and peaks, on a “bad” day I get two to three hundred visitors (not counting followers on WordPress,Bloggers, Pinterest and Twitter). On a good day, 500 to 600 isn’t unusual. I have accepted that something happened, something changed. It isn’t the audience — they don’t change — so it had to be me.
I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think I have finally figured out some of the reasons why people read my blog or probably, any blog.
It starts with writing about interesting stuff and presenting it well. That ought to go without saying, but it doesn’t, not really. Many of us — especially me! — have favorite subjects, subjects that are important to us and that are not popular. I won’t stop writing this material, but it is never going to have a huge audience either.
There are a lot of unattractive sites on the web. Too cluttered, bad color choices, hard on the eyes. Too much happening on the page. A lot of people apparently throw things together without much regard for the aesthetic elements. I am much more likely to read something that’s easy on the eyes and I suspect so are most people.
A lightbulb went off when I got thousands of hits on a reblog about hurricane Sandy. Anyone could have as easily read the same article on its original website. I was also NOT showing up at the top of a Google search. I searched using the phrase everyone else was using and I could not find me at all … so people had to be intentionally seeking me out. Instead of reading the original article, they flocked to my site. So let’s give me a point or two for presentation. My blog is easy to look at. I follow the rules for keeping white space aplenty and making sure there are more than enough graphics to break up blocks of text.
But that could not be all of it. I examined the total content for various days when the number went very high and I realized that all of them involved current stories in which everyone was interested. I tended to clump stories around a theme, then add more pieces. I typically supplement a reblogged post with extra graphics and photographs if I can, plus my commentary and analysis. I leave the original story intact, but add to it. Sometimes my additions are longer than the original, but I never mess with the author’s original (except to occasionally fix typos that my auto-editor catches … I’m sure no author minds having typos fixed — I sure don’t!)
Unlike the original blog which was a standalone feature, I followed a trail. I gathered up pictures and memories of hurricanes and other storms and wrote about them. I got Garry to talk about his experiences with the Blizzard of 1978, and other storms. I roamed the web to see what was happening in various places being hit by the storm. Although I focused on Sandy and it’s impact on Coney Island, I found other places down on the Jersey coast being equally (or worse) affected and posted what I could get about these area.
I added material, especially photographs, historical background and apocryphal stories. There was no intentional method to my madness. I just did what I do for myself when something interests me. I get into bloodhound mode and I follow wherever the scent leads me. That’s how I learn. I started in one place and the circles widened to include more and more stuff.
I included stories that were not directly related to the impact of Sandy on the mid-Atlantic coast, but were thematically related; second cousins by marriage, if you like. There have been other monster storms that have paralyzed the region, relatively recently and in the remembered past. It was a good time to feed my personal fondness for history by giving it facts to munch on. A lifetime’s enthusiasm for research doesn’t hurt. Some people get bored, but I find research fascinating. It can keep me glued to the computer for days on end.
I Googled “hurricanes past 100 years East Coast” and could have filled an encyclopedia with the results. Research became stories. I hunted down historical photographs. I remembered stories I heard from relatives and friends about storms they remembered. And then, there is my secret weapon: my husband who in covering storms in New England for more than 30 years, is a bottomless repository of amazing stories.
I offered a lot of information, stories, mood pieces and more or less stitched them together so that while each post was separate, they formed a continuity. One thing led to another. When I thought about this storm, I remembered other storms, wrote about the storm that hit on my birthday in 1889 … and I offered facts, stories, and historical background, sidebars, and photographs. The combination worked. Folks came to read one story and stayed to read more. Some of them signed on as followers. Others check in less regularly, but they come back.
I have a lot more visitors than I used to. And finally, I think I have a pretty good idea what attracts visitors.
Here are three little ideas to help boost your numbers, if that matters to you. If you don’t care about whether or not anyone reads what you write, that’s okay. To each his own. But if like most of us, you would prefer to have more rather than fewer visitors, here we go:
Be current. You don’t have to be a newspaper or make every post about current events or other news, but don’t ignore big events going on in the world around you. You don’t even have to write these stories yourself. Which brings me to the next point.
Reblog or use ScoopIt when you find well-written, relevant posts. If other people have done a great job writing about important issues, you can better spend your time doing something that hasn’t been thoroughly covered by others. It can be a different slant on the same subject, graphics rather than text, or something completely different. Being relevant doesn’t mean you have to write it, only that you should include it. There’s no reason to reinvent the wheel. If you find well-written stories on an important issue, the author’s voice can speak through you.
When something very signficant or interesting is happening … the election, the hurricane, the new season of television, the upcoming Oscars … pay attention. You don’t have to write exclusively about that one subject, but you should not ignore major events either. It’s fine to march to the beat of your own drum, but it’s good to also pay attention to what the rest of the band is playing.
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Ivory towers can be lonely places. If you want company, you need to associate with the rest of the world and pay at least some attention to what interests them. If you write entirely for yourself, it’s a diary, not a blog.
CONEY ISLAND, NEW YORK—Despite rumors of looting in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, there was no evidence of mobs near the area’s famous boardwalk this afternoon. around the usually bustling landmark was eerily abandoned.
The Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel survived. The oldest things made it through the storm. The beach has sustained serious damage and nobody is talking about the boardwalk, but we can hope.
Coney Island was back with new rides, glitzy, fancy and clean. They kept the boardwalk, the Cyclone, and the Wonder Wheel, but replaced the other rides and got rid the polyglot food stands, losing much of the unique atmosphere of the place . They tidied it up.
Coney Island post Hurricane Sandy.
My pictures are from July 2007, one of the final two years before they “fixed it,” although I didn’t think it was broken. These are impressions, intentionally painting-like photographs. So before you ask, they are manipulated images that are intentionally a bit surreal … which, of course, is how Coney Island always felt to me.
I started going to Coney Island when I was about 8 years old and that was the first time I rode the Cyclone. The Parachute Jump was still running then. Now, although the structure still stands, the ride is no longer considered safe enough for the public.
The old Coney Island had three big roller coasters, of which the Cyclone was the largest.
The former Thunderbolt roller coaster, Coney Island, Brooklyn, NY (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
There was also the Tornado and the Thunderbolt, both of which were big roller coasters. They didn’t have as large a first drop as the Cyclone, but both were famous for crazy turns that tossed you around. And of course all three were wooden roller coaster which have an entirely different “feel” than steel coasters … mainly the wooden coasters shake more than steel coasters. They feel more dangerous and less secure than steel coasters. These old coasters didn’t have secure seating, either, just a bar across your lap that felt loose enough to let you get thrown out, or stand up. Every year a few dumb people were killed because they simply had to prove their bravery by standing and waving their arms around. One can but wonder how many beers one needs before that seems like a good idea!
Newer roller coasters have much more secure seating than the old ones did.
A goodly part of the thrill of the Cyclone was that for many years it was very rickety. It wasn’t unusual to see a piece fall off while you were riding it.
Thus, added to the thrill of the dips and curves was the not entirely unrealistic fear that the whole thing might collapse with you on it, or you might go flying off the rails for a final thrill … going out with a bang, not a whimper.
Coney Island post Hurricane Sandy.
But now, we have to wonder if Coney Island will ever be back. The damage done by Hurricane Sandy was serious and there’s an awful lot of repair work to be done. Will they do it? Can they do it? Time will tell. Meanwhile, I’m glad we were there while it was the original wonderful midway, beach and boardwalk.
Been riding that beast since I was 8 years. The last time, I was 62. That was 3 years ago. I’m ready to go again. Just say the word!
Apparently my secret is out. I love it so much, that whenever new footage of the Cyclone pops up, someone sends it to me.
So, here’s the latest greatest crazy video of the coaster and of course, nutty middle-aged people enjoying the last great legal high … the adrenaline rush as you look down that first drop … wondering if this time, the car really is going to hit a pigeon and you and your friends will go flying off into eternity.
This is the best video I’ve seen to date. Very clean, very nicely done. it’s almost sort of like being there.
Nah. Who am I kidding? There’s nothing like being there except being there.
Garry says we are too old. He points out that I can barely walk. But you don’t have to walk on the Cyclone. You just sit and scream. I could do it. I could, really. Especially the screaming.
Well, we’ll always have 2009 in Brooklyn.
Ah, the refreshing sounds of joy mixed with terror! What a great thing it is to be safely scared to death. Just gotta go back … one last time. I hear the new rides are FANtastic.
And here, a sentimental song and a look at those long ago days of doo wop and 1962 … beehive hairdo and mini skirts. Gee. I was the same age that my granddaughter is now … yikes.
So my cousin Roberta, who, as is common with cousins, is my oldest and best friend, although we haven’t actually seen one another in years because the older we get, the longer that drive from Silver Spring, MD to Uxbridge, MA looms … commented that I had always been braver than she is. The context was a picture I posted of Garry and I riding the Cyclone at Coney Island. They have (or had, anyhow) a camera rigged at that first terrifying drop and it’s hard to resist buying a picture of oneself and friend or mate screaming in abject terror as you go down that nearly vertical drop on an 80-year old wooden roller coaster. It wasn’t like I had volunteered for a dangerous mission to rescue people from danger. I paid my money and delighted in the finest adrenaline rush money can buy.
Some people think I’m brave because I’ve survived some pretty awful stuff. As it happens, I would have been just as happy to skip the terror and stress and lead a pleasantly uneventful life. For excitement, there’s always the Cyclone at Coney Island (since now it has been declared an official National Historical Site and unlikely to be torn down anytime soon).
I’ve managed to slouch into senior citizenship more or less intact. I don’t deserve a medal for this. In an emergency, instinct takes over. I usually don’t remember what was going through my head at the time or what I actually did. Really. I don’t remember much of anything. My brain switches to survival mode and runs on automatic. I save my own life and sometimes I help other folks at the same time, but I am just staying alive.
My definition of bravery or valor requires a conscious, willing decision to take a significant risk in the service of others. Taking risks for the fun of it, to make a killing in the stock market, or because your only other option is death or disaster isn’t courageous.
When it’s fun, I call it entertainment. I love roller coasters. I probably would have liked sky diving had my bad back not precluded it. That’s nothing but a personal passion for something that offers an illusion of danger without real peril.
Taking a risk for profit? Shrewd, yes. Possibly enviable too … but brave?
Saving your own life? Finding a way by hook or crook to keep a roof over your head and food on your table?That’s survival. All living creatures try to survive. Those that don’t … don’t.
I’ve never done anything that I define as courageous. I’ve done stuff that was exciting, entertaining, and fascinating, and some of these adventures were disastrous for me, financially and emotionally. I’ve been occasionally selfless in helping others if I had the wherewithal. But I never put myself in harm’s way. I’ve taken emotional risks and been seriously inconvenienced. I’ve lost money helping others when I could barely help myself, but I don’t think this entitles me to a medal. Doing the right thing is part of being a decent human being. It’s a no-brainer.
I’ve done a lot of reckless things too, but that’s closer to stupidity than valor!
Another thing puzzles me.
“Proud to be an American” is something of a Mantra these days. I don’t get it. Why would one be proud of parentage or country of birth? It’s not as if you chose where you were born, picked your parents or ethnicity. Those were accidents. You made no choice. You just got lucky.
Loving and even admiring ones parents is normal. You’re supposed to love and honor your parents (see the Ten Commandments, Article 4). I’m glad I’m a U.S. citizen and not living in Sarajevo or Somalia … but gratitude and pride are very different. In the past, but not much recently, I’ve been proud of things this country has done and what it stands for and I think our Constitution is a brilliant — albeit hypocritical – document. Proud to BEAmerican? Grateful for sure. Proud seems a bit much.
Noble sentiments and a fondness for adrenaline rushes don’t count. Unless you have made a choice, a conscious decision to take a risk for the sake of another, it’s not brave. It may be fun, shrewd, smart, instinctive, reckless — or seriously dumb — but it isn’t brave.
With camera in hand, exploring European lands, cultures, food, and drink...mostly with a plan, but sometimes enjoying the adventure of just getting lost.
