A Site for Shore Eyes

I always know when winter is approaching, because even the sun heads south.

The Fabulous Fifties concert a couple of weeks ago provided just about the last gasp for the extended season on weekends. About 7,000 people showed up, the first sell-out crowd for the Wildwood Convention Center. They promised to end the free-for-all seating arrangement with reserved seating next year. I suppose that means taping paper tags to the seats, but we’ll just have to wait with bated breath.

Sometimes I wonder why we attend these oldies concerts. Yes, they’re entertaining, and dredge up memories of the past, but they also make us feel a bit old, probably because we are. Sort of, anyway.

Charlie Gracie opened the show, and if you don’t know the name, you probably should be attending a Silly Seventies concert. He did one of his biggest hits, Cute Butterfly, and sounded just like he did forty-some years ago. Well, not exactly, but he still sounded good.

A string of entertainers ensued, the most memorable performances by Little Anthony and the Imperials (sensational), The Chantels (great), The Cadillacs (pretty good), and finally, Bobby Rydell, sounding true to form and getting around the stage pretty easily with his new hip. See what I mean?

Some version of The Coasters made an appearance, and they performed well, but they’re not The Coasters, really. They did some of the old hits, but mostly they did other people’s stuff. I’ve never actually seen an Elvis impersonator live, but I suppose it’s pretty much the same thing.

We also suffered through some act (twice) they called Martin and Lewis, which was quite painful. The one who neither looked, sounded, or acted like Dean Martin also performed a Sinatra number. The one who sort of looked like a younger Jerry Lewis apparently thought that Lewis spent most of his time yelling, “Hey lady!” Enough said.

Lou Costello, not the dead one, who would have been more entertaining, hosted the show and droned on and on about one thing or the other, none of it making much sense. He told a few off-color, stale, and not very funny jokes, and also made some senseless remarks, one of them about his Jockey shorts. I didn’t know they made them that big. Eventually the crowd tired of his rambling and stomped him off the stage. Hard to believe this guy is on the radio, but that’s Cape May County.

Yes, for the most part the concert was quite good, and way too long, and this is probably the first time I’ve complained about a concert lasting too long, but four plus hours is a bit much.

Enough of that. I rode my bike on the boards yesterday and noticed that The Fudge Kitchen was open. Most of the stragglers on the boards were either walking or riding for exercise and were not likely to be seeking high calorie supplements. But it was nice to see something open. Reminded me of summer, only without all the people, fun, and excitement. Right.

Saw a few people surf fishing, presumably for stripers and blues. Some parked their vehicles near water’s edge. Seems to me I remember some guys I knew going conching years ago and watching their car disappear into the mud. That really happened.

And that’s about it from the island. Winter is dullsville, one of the things that makes it so great.

The laughing gulls, along with most of the herring gulls, took off for warmer climes shortly after Labor Day. They seemed to care little about the upcoming “big” weekends planned for the extended season.

Indeed, the weekends were very big, in terms of visitors. The fireman swarmed the island for their convention, and the “Roar to the Shore” brought thousands of motorcycles, which never seemed to stop roaring, even during the wee hours of the morning. The Irish Festival, coupled with a classic car show and auction, brought so many visitors it almost seemed like the Fourth of July revisited.

We cruised the island during these weekends just to look around. All the surviving motels were packed, probably surprising no one . The firemen are bailing out in 2009, despite the new convention hall. They like motels, where they can gather in groups, which is what a lot of people tried to tell the pro-condo people a few years back.

That leaves two groups of smart people on the island; the ones who stuck with the motels and the ones who sold some of the overpriced condos to the suckers who took the bait. Many bought condos as income property and they still may make some money if they can move them over an island or two, where the condo vacationers go.

Back in the 60’s motels popped up all over, like mushrooms after a heavy rain. That set the tone for the island, and the pitch hasn’t changed a bit, at least in the minds of the visitors to the Wildwoods.

Making Wildwood look like Ocean City won’t make it so, and it won’t attract the throngs in the long run. With all the motels running at peak during weekends a few weeks after the summer season, most of the rental condos sit dark and vacant. Someone must be saying, “I told you so,” by this time.

One of the problems, or perhaps the main problem, is that the same characters keep getting elected, and their goal is to ignore the wishes of the residents and follow their own whims, especially if they have a vested interest in doing so.

Someone (an attorney) finally pointed out that having the mayor oversee the construction office may not be such a good idea, being that the mayor’s family owns a concrete business. They turned this over to another commissioner to avoid the “appearance” of a conflict. I suppose that means the conflict will still exist, but as long as it appears that it doesn’t everything is hunky-dory, whatever that means.

So Wildwood keeps trying to push the 25-story high rises on its citizenry, need them or not. They should be a real boon to the concrete business, but who’s going to stay in these towers? Certainly not the firemen, remember, they’re leaving after ’09. Conventioneers want outdoor common areas where they can gather, drink, and make a little (or a lot) of noise. You don’t get that with condos and you don’t get it with mini-skyscraper hotels. I guess they can bang on the windows on the 23rd floor, but it’s not quite the same thing. . .

Another reason the city wants high rise hotels is to sell their unmarketable liquor licenses at $250,000 a pop. The site of the long gone Rio motel still awaits CAFRA approval after its first rejection for a high rise. Someone has a lot at stake here, so its no wonder the commissioners can’t hear the shouts of the residents.

The voters have only themselves to blame. They elected one commissioner who is virtually ineffective because of a conflict of interest stemming from his leave of absence as a police officer. They reelected a mayor whose family owns a construction business, creating many conflicts, possibly explaining why he’s the driving force behind the high rise movement. That leaves one fully effective commissioner, at least from a legal point of view.

Instead of fixing the deplorable condition of many of the streets, the powers that be turn their attention toward decorating the island, whether it be the giant beach balls at the end of Rio Grande Avenue, or the replicated arch in the Crest that serves no apparent purpose. These aren’t necessarily bad things, but they contribute nothing to preventing broken shock absorbers or stopping the street flooding during every 5.7 foot tide. Here in North Wildwood, the backflow preventers on the storm drains would work great if Richardson’s Creek would just stop its silly insistence of gushing through the bulkhead seams.

The elected officials of the communities comprising The Wildwoods seem to have vision for the future of the island. All they need now is an eye examination.