This ride at Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, N.J. reminds me of three-year-olds twirling themselves to dizziness and then collapsing on the ground in laughter. Why do we go to such great heights to drive ourselves dizzy? When does…
To the extent that I actually contemplate extended stay hotels, I think of the higher-end ones as refuges for corporate sorts on months-long assignments. This may be a branding problem, or it may just be me, but when I think…
I’ve been going to Seaside Heights since I was less than a year old, and even though so much of it never seems to change, I never tire of the place—even with the presence of Snooki et al. Cruising the boardwalk, drinking sugary lemonades, eating fried pickles, indulging in pizza, and attempting to consume a candy apple gracefully are all part of the experience. Carnival barkers, air hockey, arcades, a ferris wheel, and a haunted house that always seem to break down just as I get there are that much more fun with when experienced with a sand, surf, and sunscreen residue earned from a few hours sunbathing on the beach.
There might not be Andy Warhols, but there’s art at the place (clown murals!); great people watching, and even better eavesdropping. One recent weekend, I was treated to a rundown of a twenty-something’s very active romantic life, complete with names, plot twists, and TMI-level details. I and everyone within earshot heard one half of her very long cellphone call while catching a little sun at the shore. At this point, it was entertaining to live just a bit vicariously even as I am grateful that my own past is far more tame.
If you need to shop for incense or shore shirts, there’s a place for you. Sure, the crowd and the merchandise skew young, but the amusement park rides guarantee that this is a family place, and the food bargains and benches offer comfort to the older set. It’s a rare occasion when anyone in my family opts out from a day at this beach.
Note from the Brawny Sherpa: I rule at air hockey. Just sayin’. Fried scallops are good, too.
© Lori Tripoli, 2012