Jersey Shore III

Jersey Shore III

Point Pleasant is a REAL family town. It’s common to see three generations staying in the houses and walking the boardwalk. (I’m guessing it’s the eldest generation that is usually the owner or renter of the house!) It’s not the Victorian atmosphere of Cape May, with the clip-clop of horses (at two miles per hour) echoing through he streets, nor the hurly-burly of the two-mile boardwalk at Wildwood with its thrill rides and a thousand food stands.

There is the occasional jogger in the early morning, not the procession of grim-faced, sweaty (“I’ll lose 25 pounds on my vacation!”) zealots of Cape May. Things are calm here, and the most exercise I’m getting is trudging the kids’ voluminous stuff the 100 yards from our door to the water. (Their ball blew away two days ago, and we let it ride down the sand out of our reach. But yesterday, I found it magically back where we dropped it, and brought it home with me. That’s when Alaina said, “Why doesn’t the ball have balloons on it any more?” and Maria said, “Nice, you’ve stolen some kid’s ball!”)

We’re eating more consistently casually than I can readily remember. Maria even barbecued on Sunday. The best restaurant food has been at a local bar that was great to us, with fresh seafood and good drinks. The tourist places, here since I was a kid, Jack Baker’s Lobster Shanty and Jack Baker’s Wharfside, have excellent service but mediocre food. The lobster, which should be outstanding, is nowhere near as good as in Rhode Island, and almost everything is fried with a vengeance. I’m thinking we need to try Italian. Perhaps Graziano’s tonight.

There’s a guy on the beach who has an all-terrain vehicle of some kind with a trailer, and he sells coconut water, Haagan-Daz, and other cool stuff for a few bucks each. Some commercial fishing boats return to the jetty nearby at 10 in the morning, meaning they’ve probably been out since 3 am or so. Last night, the coast guard was off the beach with boats and choppers and floodlights looking for a lost swimmer, which we now think was a hoax.

During the week, the huge beach seems deserted, since people are so dispersed. The water is in the high 70s and mostly quite calm. But the beach has a significant drop, and in a few yards you’re up to your neck. The bottom is smooth—no shells, rocks, crabs, or jellyfish.

I lost badly at “Deal of No Deal” at an arcade on the boardwalk, but won thousands of tickets in a strange game I still don’t understand with a ball dropping down a huge wall. It was addictive.

I maintained my 100% kill rate at Whack-A-Mole, but Jason was a second faster and won the prize. I must be mellowing!

© Alan Weiss 2012. All rights reserved.