Blogfinger

Ocean Grove. Friday afternoon. All photos and videos by Paul Goldfinger @Blogfinger

By Paul Goldfinger, Multi-media editor @Blogfinger

Shall I compare this to a summer day?  Of course it is—and a magnificent one at that here in the Grove.  It is balmy at 80 degrees, no humidity, 72 degree water and a nice crowd at both ends.  In the middle is no mans/womans land, but that’s OK, because the few people who are there in the middle seem really relaxed. It is quiet.

Red flags are flying telling everyone that the water is hazardous and don’t go out above your waist. I thought that if a very tall man followed those instructions, he could get into trouble, but remembering my anatomy, I recalled that his nose is higher than most noses. Actually the water looked deceptively safe, but evidently there was an undertow that could grab you and suck you to Spain or perhaps Long Branch.

The grassy/sandy strip has few people walking on it.  It seems as if the boardwalk scene has left town. While I was gazing at the strip, a man approached me and asked if I lived here.  I told him, “Not exactly here, but I am a citizen of Ocean Grove.”

He then said, as he gestured toward where the boardwalk used to be, “What happened here?”

I guessed he just landed from Mars, or Uranus, or perhaps from Manhattan. When I told him , he was amazed. “When will it be rebuilt?”  I said, “When we get $3 million from FEMA, but we are raising some money now. ”  I thought he might reach into his pocket and offer a few bucks, but he just patted me on the shoulder, smiled, said thank you and strolled towards Ocean Avenue, skipping the grassy/sandy strip altogether.

Weezer was there, and as I went by a kid was telling his mother to buy him a coca cola ice. She said, “No dear, it looks like coca cola, but it’s coconut.”  And then a brief flashback enveloped me as I recalled teaching my kids stuff like that, but it didn’t last long and I didn’t linger there.

A SUMMER AT THE SHORE LOVE SONG:  MADELEINE PEYROUX  “Was I?”

and ANOTHER SUMMER FAVORITE : IT’S SOUSA, STILL HANGING AROUND THE GROVE