By Paul Goldfinger, Editor, Blogfinger.net Re-post from 2012.
Here is a short movie, produced by documentary filmmaker David Layton in 2011. It’s offered in celebration (and, OK, self-congratulation) of our half-millionth visitor to Blogfinger. And also in tribute to a town we love.
It’s been 13 years since this movie was made by Charles Layton’s son David, a professional documentarian. 2011 was only two years since we began this experiment in small, small town journalism.
It was a great privilege for me to have Charles Layton and Mary Walton join the Blogfinger staff. They both had been professional journalists from the Philadelphia Inquirer, and I learned so much from them.
Some years ago the Walton-Laytons moved back to the big city (Philadelphia.) They, of course, are irreplaceable, and that’s how it’s been here since they left, except, by February. 2025, Blogfinger has received nearly 5 million hits, and the Walton-Laytons left over 10 years ago.
Editor’s note: This was a wonderful idea for a community event in the arts. If you read the last paragraph you will see why we did not pursue a “3rd annual” version. –Paul Goldfinger. Editor, Blogfinger.net
Participants: Josh Pomponio (L) Wm. Paterson U.; Katherine Picariello, NYU; Marlee Roberts, NYU; Scott Schuler, NYU; Stephanie Wong, Rutgers; George Itzhak, NYU (missing from the photo: Lindsay Rassmann, Montclair State; Charlie Redd, NYU; Nicole Rosen, Drexel U;) click image for full view. The NYU contingent was from the Tisch School of the Arts. Paul Goldfinger photo Blogfinger.net.
“This is wonderful,” said BFFF producer Marlee Roberts. She was speaking for the nine university film makers who showed their creations in the Youth Temple at Ocean Grove today.
Seven of the directors from 5 different schools were thrilled to see their work projected on a big screen with professional quality audio and video provided by the Camp Meeting Association staff. They also were delighted to be in Ocean Grove at such a beautiful venue and they were grateful to have an audience with whom they could share their work.
Paul introduces the program. The NYU hat is to honor film makers from that school who made movies in the Grove: Woody Allen, David Chase, and Marlee Roberts. Eileen Goldfinger photo
The Festival began with a music and slide show featuring images of Ocean Grove by Paul Goldfinger.
Paul and Marlee introduced the program, and then the films were screened in succession. The material was quite varied including two documentaries, a fantasy featuring a ballet sequence, a French style film noir, a couple of dramatic sequences, a study of the effects of bulimia, and a comedy about getting into the heaven of your choice.
A scene from Katherine Picariello’s film “Tracing.” Blogfinger photo by Eileen Goldfinger. Still image from the projected film.
Afterward a Q & A revealed some insights into the inspirations influencing these young film makers as well some practical revelations about how a film school degree can lead to a job in the movie industry after graduation. One insight that they shared had to do with how many people are required to produce a short film and how these students collaborate with each other and tap into each other’s talents to complete their projects.
We would like to thank the Ocean Grove Camp Meeting Association, OGCMA staff members Chris Flynn and Shelley Belusar, assistant producer Eileen Goldfinger, our tireless creative producer Marlee Roberts, Mayor Eric Houghtaling, and Mr. Richard Lepore of the OG Chamber of Commerce.
We also want to acknowledge our sponsors, the OG Chamber of Commerce, KFR Communications (Andrew Gioulis), Barbaric Bean, Smugglers’ Cove, OG Flower and Gift Shop, Drs. Whilden and Brevit (painless dentists) and Cruisin’ Limo Service of Ocean Grove (Florence and Mark Meier.)
Also thanks to the CMA volunteers who helped at the event. Thanks finally to our audience who attended and helped in our effort to raise some money for the OG boardwalk reconstruction.
Lastly (but not leastly) we want to acclaim and thank our talented filmmakers who took part in today’s festival. We will miss you. Come back soon and bring some more great films with you.
—–Paul Goldfinger , editor Blogfinger.net
From “The Aviator” Loudon Wainwright III: “After You’ve Gone.”
April 2022. I’m sorry that I don’t have any followup regarding what happened to these fledgling film makers. Perhaps some Grovers will get together to resurrect this idea in the future; it was a wonderful small town event—the sort of idea that is perfect for the Grove as it moves to a better cultural/secular future to balance the religious life here.
And you should know that the main reason we did not pursue a “Third Annual” was the insistence on the part of the CMA that they approve every film in advance. We reluctantly went along this time. , and Marlee Roberts and her colleagues were beautiful in making that work, but I would never again subject young creative people to censorship.
When we first moved here part-time in 1998, we became acquainted with the Live Nativity event. I never saw anything like it before.
I recall standing out in the cold waiting for the children and animals to appear. There was a procession, and this star bearer came by. She seemed as if she had appeared out of the mists of time as in Brigadoon. For a moment I felt I had travelled back to 1869.
Preserving the past is usually expressed in this town by the architecture. But other things occur which add life to the history, as you see in the photograph.
It’s important to continue those traditions whenever possible. The live nativity is now indoors, but it seemed more authentic when we were breathing vapor out our nostrils while waiting in the cold for the two-humped camel, the wise men, the sheep and some shepherds to arrive.
SOUNDTRACK: As a teenage musician I often took part in Christmas celebrations and concerts. We went caroling in the snow, and people tossed dollar bills out the windows of the garden apartments where we lived in Rutherford, New Jersey.
In school, Christmas music was a big deal, and I always have associated this holiday with beautiful music, both classical and popular.
But this photograph seems to require something especially heart-felt and different from the usual carols, so here, although it is not actually a Christmas selection, it does seem to go with the photo. It’s Puccini.
This piece was written on day three of the hurricane with later adjustments after consultation with Dr. Joel Newman (see below)
By Paul Goldfinger, MD. Re-post from Ocean Grove, NJ. 2012. Blogfinger.net
Grovers gather at 5 am on October 29, 2012. Paul Goldfinger photo.
One thing about this crisis is that a minor sociological miracle was noticeable: neighbors were speaking to neighbors that they normally don’t talk to. That happened yesterday as a small clump of men and women—neighbors, including me— were gathered on the corner of Delaware Avenue and Mt. Hermon Way.
10/29/2012. Neighbors gather at Mt. Hermon Way and Delaware. Paul Goldfinger photo. Blogfinger.net
We were chattering away about issues that had no answers. When will the power come on was the big question. We agreed that it would be later rather than sooner. As a result of our concerns, we all became a lot friendlier—a consequence of the misery loves company theory perhaps?
But this explanation seemed too simple, so we decided to consult Ocean Grover Joel Newman , MPH, PhD, retired psychologist and active screenplay writer.
Joel says that extreme situations such as this hurricane may cause people to reach out to others such as neighbors. He describes a phenomenon wherein people who are stressed by fearful circumstances experience a need to reorganize their personal priorities and to seek out new relationships with others who share their situation. In order for this to happen, their usual “facades come down” including their usual “boundaries.” These psychological changes allow them to “form new human connections and social bonds.”
According to Joel, “There is a deepening of compassion for other people who are victims. We all suffer, endure and prevail.” And, in the process, there are “many spontaneous considerate behaviors which occur which benefit all concerned.”
So, as the crisis ends, Joel sees an opportunity to wind up in a better psychologic place where old bonds are strengthened while new ones continue. Stick with those new connections and your life will be enriched.
In addition, Joel says that other more minor setbacks in life may also afford the opportunity for individuals to be energized and to emerge better-off in the end.
It reminds me of the quote attributed to Friedrich Neitzsche who said, “That which doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”
I’m not there to enjoy the snow-less snowstorm with y’all, but this is a remembrance of a snow event in the Grove, January, 2013. It gives me reason to show this house and to play this song again.
Christine Ebersole won a Tony in 2006 for her performance on Broadway in Grey Gardens. This was the first musical to be made from a documentary. The show is about two reclusive socialites living together in a dreary derelict house in East Hampton.
Here is Christine Ebersole (with Mary Louise Wilson) singing her signature song “Another Winter in a Summer Town.”—PG
Myrna Demby-Goldfinger, American-Indian. “High school graduate.” 1938. She was about age 17 when this photograph was taken. Photographer unknown.
By Paul Goldfinger, Native-American (This article first appeared on Blogfinger on October 1, 2012. It re-appeared a couple of times after that, and now we are reposting it for those who missed it the first times:)
Elizabeth Warren is now. (2024) running again for Senate in Massachusetts. She claims to be part American-Indian based on family folklore. Some people are skeptical because she looks like a clogger in an Irish dance competition. Her story reminds me of my Mom: Myrna Demby-Goldfinger. (I gave her the hyphen posthumously. She would have liked that.)
Mom had a vivid imagination and she loved to joke, sing and tell stories. Sometimes you couldn’t be sure if she was telling the “emmis ” (Yiddish for the truth) or whether she was telling tall-tales. It didn’t usually matter, because she was always fun.
One of her consistent assertions was that she was part American-Indian. Mom’s parents were Jewish, from Poland. They came here in the great wave of immigration early in the 20th century. Mom, who was born here, was one of nine children growing up in Bayonne, New Jersey. Grandpa Demby was a tailor. My grandmother Helen was a little gray-haired lady with a bun in the back. You can imagine how she kept busy, especially with six sons, every one a character of one sort or another.
All nine had alternative names such as Duke, Shmeel, Muttle, Bennie, and others, often based on their Yiddish versions. Mom was called Malka or Mollie by her parents and brothers— and Myrna by her sisters. Grandpa Demby and the uncles called me “Pesach” my Jewish name.
Her family was a little bit like the Marx Brothers. I loved to visit them in their little house in Bayonne where they all shared one bathroom and they slept all over the place. The food, the music, the jokes, the hijinks, the arguments—in other words, the “shtick”—was a treat if you were a little kid.
Mom was the youngest and the favorite. Her dad took her with him to the Yiddish theaters on Second Avenue in New York. As a youngster she would entertain the family by singing popular American songs, but also Yiddish songs from the “old country” which often had ribald lyrics that I could sort of decipher. My favorite was a ditty called “Cockeyed Jenny”—It’s about a guy and girl. They are lovers. Her father catches them. Oy vey!
Mom claimed to have once auditioned for Ed Sullivan. No one in the family would deny it, but…..I don’t know. Over the years she appeared in many amateur shows, usually as the star. When she was 16 she was offered a chance to travel with a “big band” but Grandpa wouldn’t allow it.
So Mom, who was a school teacher, insisted that she was part Indian. She told her students the same thing. She also told them that my Dad was a secret agent with the government and that he limped because he had been shot. He wore my old college ring, and she said that it had a secret compartment. Dad loved to play that role whenever possible.
One time we were out to dinner, and the waiter recognized her and said that she was his favorite teacher and that he loved her stories.
I always liked the Indian thing because that would make me part Indian. I thought that maybe I had an ancestor who was a medicine man. Mom loved the movies, especially the shoot-em-up cowboy and Indian flicks. She rooted for the Indians.
I think Mom would have liked Elizabeth Warren. Maybe they could have gone to tribal pow-wows together.
And here we see that Neptune has Indians in its history. Mom would have liked this event:
SOUNDTRACK: No story about my Mom would be complete without music. Here is the Yiddish tune “Cockeyed Jenny” by the Barton Brothers (veterans of the Yiddish stage).
Sorry, but I can’t translate it. But when my Mom would sing it to the family, they would all laugh. If any of you can translate it, please do. PG
SOUNDTRACK: Madeleine Peyroux is an American who has spent many years in France. This song, sung in French, is called “La Javanaise.” Supposedly it is difficult to translate. But it evidently is a bitter-sweet love song—something about true love only lasting as long as a romantic dance.
So, forget the translation. Everything in Paris is about love—at least that is its reputation, so just enjoy it and imagine what it means.
—-Paul Goldfinger, Editor @Blogfinger
MADELEINE PEYROUX from her album Half the Perfect World This song, “La Javanaise” was performed in the movie the Shape of Water by Madeleine Peyroux in 2017.
We will be pursuing a series of posts about photography, particularly of female photographers. This photograph, taken in the summer of 1951, at the Piazza del Rebublica in Florence, became Ruth Orkin’s iconic masterpiece. The image has a story:
Orkin, a 29 year old aspiring photojournalist, was traveling alone in Europe that summer. In Florence she met 23 year old “Jinx” Allen Craig who had quit her job in New York City to go by herself on a grand tour of Europe. While checking out a cheap hostel on the River Arno, she met Orkin. The two of them decided to become a team and investigate what it was like for a woman to travel alone on the continent. They set up photographs in a variety of situations such as sitting in a cafe, shopping in a market , etc.
In this photo, Orkin asked Craig to walk through the crowd of leering men. Orkin took only two frames, but for this shot, she asked the men not to look at the camera when Craig walked past a second time. This image became famous. Early on, the crotch grabbing was airbrushed out. Some critics discounted the photograph because they said it was set up and not spontaneous.
Others said that it showed harrassment of a woman on the streets of Florence, but “Jinx” Craig thought otherwise. She said, “It’s not a symbol of harassment. It’s a symbol of a woman having an absolutely wonderful time! I clutched my shawl to me because that sheaths the body. It was my protection, my shield. I was walking through a sea of men. I was enjoying every minute of it. They were Italian and I love Italians.”
Orkin became famous, and Craig eventually married an Italian man.
Jersey strong in Ocean Grove. Volunteers on November 7, 2012. Carl Swenson photo
By Paul Goldfinger, Editor, Blogfinger.net. 11/7/12. (Superstorm Sandy hit the Jersey Shore on Oct. 29, 2012)
This morning, Memorial Day 2013,) I heard an ad on WOR radio sponsored by a new State-funded web site called “Jersey Shore : Stronger Than the Storm.”
In the radio ad, their pitch is that the places worth visiting at the Shore had rebuilt their boardwalks. They specifically mentioned Asbury Park, Spring Lake, Seaside Heights, Belmar and others, but not Ocean Grove.
It is true that we have not completely rebuilt our boardwalk after less than one year, but, despite complaints from some Grovers to the contrary, people who come here will enjoy themselves as they experience the positives, which are many in this town.
Bruce Holmes of Mt. Hermon Way was relaxing in Firemen’s Park with his little son Eddie, waiting for the Memorial Day parade (2013) to begin. He said, “There’s much more beauty in Ocean Grove than just the boardwalk. We still have the ocean, the sky, the sand.”
We met Jack and Jean Bredin of Heck Avenue. They were enjoying a gorgeous day while watching the parade make its way east on Main Avenue. The crowd was happy as they waved their flags and cheered the marchers. Jack said, “Ocean Grove is the best town on the Jersey Shore.”
Jean and Jack Bredin at the 2013 parade. Paul Goldfinger photo
It is estimated that 20% of shore towns are not back to normal, but the State ad campaign, which is in full volume now, shouldn’t forget the 20% as they trumpet how strong the Jersey Shore is. That web site lists the towns at the shore.
Go to “destinations:” If you click on Ocean Grove, you will see a photo of somebody else’s boardwalk. Go further and you will see some lifeless photos of our town. Watch the video, and you won’t see us at all. As Rodney Dangerfield said, “We get no respect.”
Individual towns can request a “tool kit” to jump on the Jersey Strong bandwagon. Hopefully Neptune or the CMA will follow up on this opportunity.
Coleman Hawkins with Miles Davis at the 3 Deuces Club in New York, c. 1947. From the Library of Congress
This song is beautiful. It lends itself to low lights and slow dancing. Many great performers have recorded it, but I have never liked the lyrics much. That’s because the message is murky.
The singer tells how much he/she loves the recipient of the song: so much that he/she would “die for you,” ”tear the stars down from the skies for you,” and even ”move the earth for you.”
But then he/she declares, “If that isn’t love, it will have to do…until the real thing comes along.”
What a let down! How ungrateful can you get? Is there no way possible that love can be proven? It’s annoying.
That’s why this song is being presented here without the words — only the big fat tenor sound of Coleman Hawkins, aka “Hawk,” who was born in Missouri and died in New York City (1904-1969). Make up your own lyrics. — Paul Goldfinger
