Pre-St Patrick's Day Parade in the Rockaways

 With a light dusting of snow swirling about my head and a chilly wind cutting through my jacket, I joined the throngs of other parade-goers, darting in and out of the local Dunkin' Donuts for hot coffee and Irish-cream donuts.

Billed as New York City's second largest Saint Patrick's Day Parade, Far Rockaway's parade did not disappoint and was well worth the one-way two and a half hour trip from Brooklyn by train, bus and on foot. With nine pipe and drum bands and three Irish pubs serving up cheap green beer, there was no shortage of entertainment on and off the streets.

 Locals donned greenery of every variety, from t-shirts and hats to socks and jackets to wigs and sunglasses to feather boas and scarves.  Ed dubbed me an Irish lass by wrapping a green scarf around my neck, adding a much-needed splash of festivity to my otherwise "not a lick of green are ya wearing there lassy" ensemble.

After the parade, I spent a couple of hours wandering the beaches and neighborhoods, curious to view the restoration efforts for myself.  The grit of dust and sand and the smell of fuel and smoke still penetrated the air and assaulted my sinuses, four months after Hurricane Sandy. 

One hundred and twenty-five days after the hurricane, there is so much work to be done.  Many residents continue to believe that the city (aka the Mayor) has not heeded their urgent cries for help.  Thousands are still without water and electricity and in a city as vibrant as New York City, this city that to many represents the United States of America, the irony is not lost on many...

 I may live in Brooklyn, but right now, 

my heart is in Far Rockaway.