Considering the Jersey Shore

This was my first trip to the Jersey Shore.  I’ve enjoyed other parts of New Jersey, and endured other parts.  But I’ve never been to the shore.  One of CavWife’s sisters worked there for a few summers.  For nearly a decade, a large part of her family has been going to the shore after school gets out but before the seasonal rates increase, meaning before July 4th weekend.

Don’t think about a bunch of Guidos.  Spring Lake is nothing like that.  Spring Lake is upscale- very upscale.  Lots of Victorian homes, bed and breakfasts, and a few hotels.  We stayed in one of those hotels- The Breakers on the Beach.  We were late additions to the vacation plans, and we got the last room available: the penthouse.  Well, that’s what we called it.  The elevator when to the 4th floor, but we were on the 6th (though there was no 5th- I don’t understand either).  I expected some more living space but it was about the same, though the bathroom was larger.  But the views…. we had better, panoramic views.  We also had a gas fireplace.

Our Room

What we didn’t have was 2 beds, or a suite style room.  There was a fold-out sleep sofa.  This was to be CavBoy’s bed.  Initially we were going to have CavGirl go to sleep and then move her to the sleep sofa.  But it just didn’t work out that way as he did his usual sprawl across the bed.  This put the rest of us on the king size bed.  Somehow I was in the middle.  As a result, I spent 2 nights getting whacked and kicked by my daughter.  The pillows were huge and fluffy, quite the opposite of the pillows from the night before.  Almost everyone who used them woke up with a sore neck.  In the middle of the 2nd night, I cast mine onto the floor and slept pillow-less.

Our entire entourage was 24 people in 6 different rooms.  Lots of kids.  But most of the other guests were in the same boat so we didn’t drive too many people at the hotel crazy.  You were not supposed to wear beach attire in the lobby since they had a relatively upscale restaurant there.  We had to come and go through the basement to either the beach or the pool area.  This was the first time I ever needed a beach pass.  The adults had little pins to prove you had beach access.  If you didn’t have one, you could buy a wrist band for $8/day to have access to the beach.  Lots of rules, but the beach was pretty clean and well kept.  You could see the life guards training as they prepared for the summer rush that was about to hit them.  They got plenty of work with the whistle as people would drift too close to the breakers.  If those waves pushed you against the rocks, they would do serious damage.

The boardwalk was initially built by the WPA in 1937, stretching for a good distance for all those interested in walking or jogging.  It was very beautiful.  I hadn’t heard the sound of the surf for over a year.  It was a welcome sound- relaxing and peaceful.  After getting on the beach- after spending a long time lathering up- I took a good long walk on the beach thinking about ministry, ambition and other matters.  No iPod- does that surprise you?  But I didn’t want lots of sand to muck it up.

I tried to get into the water.  It was like a liquid ice flow.  I’ve been spoiled by that Gulf Coast water.  This was like Gulf Coast circa February.  Cold, reason I left New England cold.  Body parts retreating in agony cold.  And there was something strange in the water.  Tiny jellyfish.  No one warned me about this.  Thankfully they didn’t sting.  They just got all over you, stuck to you like … jelly.  Waiting to die and give you an unpleasant odor.  Yeah, not exciting.

By late afternoon, as the sun started to work its way through the sun block I made my way to the pool, and some shade, with the kids.  I had read some more of The Original Curse and talked with numerous people from the entourage.  CavSon was having a ball in the kiddie pool, which used to be hot tub the overly friendly lady in the yellow dress told me.  I soaked my feet as CavSon refused to talk to her daughter who inexplicably had one of those inflatable ducks kids float in- in the kiddie pool.  Where is CavWife to run interference.  Then again, why would this person be interested in me.  I’m feeling less than attractive with a few extra pounds around the middle covered by my t-shirt.  But I’m told my legs are still sexy.  Maybe it was those legs.  Maybe it was just wishful thinking since I’m feeling oh so unattractive.

Then I notice the kiddie pool seems to be filled with jelly fish from the 50 kids who have been there earlier in the day.  I’m kinda grossed out.  I want to leave, ASAP.  But CavSon is having too much fun.  And he’s NOT going into the big pool.  CavGirl is trying to remember her swimming lessons, but needs dad to help her.  So off I go to help her, having to remove my shirt and feeling awkward and gross.  At some point I became my father, minus the powerful forearms, and I’m not liking it.

Soon we enjoy about 7 variously topped pizzas and some salad.  The sunburns are starting to show.  There are some really funny sunburns, and I’m wishing I had my camera to capture them all.  One guy has the raccoon face look.  One put sun screen on his shaved head, but neglected the lower half of his face.  Some of the kids are all read with a couple of white streaks where they applied the barest amounts of sun screen.  I may feel fat, but at least I’m not a lobster.

Then most of the adults and older cousins make their way to The Blarney Cone for an ice cream.  We walk into town and it is very pretty.  Some magnificent homes and tree-lines roads.  In town the boys go a little crazy with the skateboards and blades, leaping nearly anything in sight.  I’m expecting the cops of this sleepy resort town to descend upon us like white on rice.  But not yet.  Our group confuses the new girl at the Blarney Cone.  She tries to charge me for someone else’s cone too.  I only have enough to cover mine, and just noticed the “Cash Only” sign.  I am not a notorious carrier of cash btw.  But I enjoyed a delicious double pistachio scoop on a sugar cone.  We stroll over to the part where we will have dinner the next night, and head back for my sleepless night as a punching bag.

After breakfast the next morning, we head out to the beach.  This time, no jelly fish.  But first I take another long walk.  This time on the broadwalk, but still without the iPod.  Spent some time thinking about being a dad, and being amused at various things.  I spend some time with CavGirl in the waves, hunting crabs.  Eventually, I bring a chair by the surf.  It is too hot farther up the beach.  I’ve got my book, and CavGirl pulls up a bigger chair next to me.  Mine is low to the ground, so occasionally a wave comes up to my waist so I shiver.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wave at least 6 inches higher hits me.  I’m in shock- “water hates my book.  It has a contract on the book.”  CavSon, playing at me feet seems fine, having not been swept out to see.  Some lady in a bikini keeps shouting about my daughter, whether she is okay.  Huh?  The water has folded up the chair and she’s stuck in it.  Fortunately all was well.

We tried to get the kids down for naps that afternoon.  CavSon actually went to sleep, exhausted from too much fun and travel.  CavGirl … despite putting one of Phil Keaggy’s instrumental guitar albums at her request, she resisted.  She cried.  She sobbed.  She whined.  She begged.  I, really needing to sleep, got none.  My neck was bothering me, and a migraine was heading down the pike.

Around 4 we gathered to head to the park.  Some drove, and we walked.  I need the exercise for the expanding waistline.  I drifted back, watching my kids following the lead of their cousins as they grow increasingly less dependent on me.  Sorrow and joy as my little people grow up.  What happened at the party was fairly surreal.

The park has playground equipment so the younger kids played there.  The boys went fishing.  I took a stroll down to the lake and bridge.  My kids, hearing about my walk, wanted me to take them to see.  On the way I encountered a clueless grandmother who wanted to take her grandson fishing.  She decided to stop me to ask me to help get the hook on the line.  Me?  Haven’t fished in years.  Distracted by my kids, and a Brooklyn Lager, I fumbled with the miniscule hook and got it set.  The kids and I spent time watching the ducks.  After we got back, we started the grill on one of the picnic tables.  Notice that… picnic tables.

While someone else manned the grill (often my task, but the migraine discouraged me) I noticed a Police SUV cruising through the park.  “Ooops, open containers,” I think.  Suddenly he pulls to a quick stop and another cruiser and 2 bike cops appear out of nowhere.  All we needed was a SWAT Team.  What could we have done to merit this much attention?  He wants to know who’s in charge.  This is not looking good, amigos.

Turns out the local statutes changed.  We are actually free to eat there, and cook there.  But the rich people across the street had too much time on their hands, and bitterness in their hearts.  They were driving the dispatcher crazy with calls about open fires, eating and having fun.  No loud music, unless you count ring tones.  No profanity ringing out.  No fighting or drugs.  The officer is apologizing to us for the commotion.  Seems like he has to put on a show to keep the natives happy.  Somehow the beer escapes his notice.  Huge sigh of relief.

We are nearly done with the chicken and venison kabobs.  The teen boys are slightly restless.  They are in the tennis courts because the local pro has finished teaching the grey haired man who suddenly thinks he can compete.  The tales of the big tournaments have gone silent.  But the police officer reappears.  The boys are in danger of destroying public property and they were observed by the all seeing eye across the street.  I understand, these kids are better off playing somewhere else without supervision getting into real trouble.  The beer is gone, and now the officer mentions we shouldn’t have beer.  That is against the local ordinance.  Glad the all-seeing eye didn’t report that.  As we clean up, feeling quite unwelcome, the grandmother comes back grateful for the help.  Her grandson caught 5 fish.

Back to the hotel for ice cream with more toppings than you can shake a stick at.  I had tiny Almond Joys, chocolate chips, a sugar cone stuck in the bowl, whipped creams and enough Maraschino cherries to sooth my craving for a week.  Stuffed, I am not eager for another night trying to sleep between CavWife and CavGirl.  But we had a memorable time at the Shore, building memories.  As Daddy D would say, “The Big M.”  Now off to the mountains!