A Site for Shore Eyes

My grandmother probably could have made a lot more money if bed and breakfasts, rather than rooming houses, had been in vogue back then. I’m not sure what determines which is which, but B&B’s generally cater to people with too much money on their hands.

I grew up in a house where we rented rooms during the summer. A neon sign on the corner of the house read, “Bay View Rooms.” My grandmother provided breakfast and supper for the guests who chose that option, and most did, especially those already familiar with her cooking. Many guests returned from year-to-year, some staying for three weeks at a time.

As young kids, my brother, Larry, and I often “helped” our grand mom in the kitchen, and it’s still not clear whether this aided or hindered meal preparation, but bowls and paddles always needed licking, and kids like doing things such as grinding meat and running the mixer. There’s also something about rolling pins when you’re young.

Breakfast was usually pretty much the same each morning; eggs with meat, whether bacon, sausage, or scrapple (Yuk!), or any combination thereof. She also offered a selection of cereals for guests who preferred that option, or, if someone were into grapefruit, broiled or not, his or her wish would be granted. Jellies and preserves were always on hand, but the butter wasn’t butter, but margarine, or oleo, as my mom used to call it. My mom never used the stuff, recalling having to mix it up and add coloring during the war.

Supper was more elaborate, and guests usually sat in rocking chairs on the porch taking in the bay breezes and chatting while the scents from the kitchen played havoc with their olfactory senses. Eventually, my grandmother would push open the screen door to the porch and shout, “Come and get it!” The guests then filed into the sun porch and took their places at a long table my dad had built just for that purpose. Nowadays I can’t imagine buying that much food, but there always seemed to be enough if my brother or I, or both, decided to eat whatever was being served.

My grandmother always served iced tea, made fresh daily, in frosty pitchers. Both sweetened and unsweetened were on the table, and my favorite brew used orange slices instead of lemon. My brother, Larry, sometimes made the tea, but that wasn’t one of my specialties.

We also tended the ice water cooler in the hall, probably because it seemed like fun to dump trays of ice cubes in it. It’s not as much fun as an adult chore. I guess it makes a difference as to whether it’s something you have to do every day or something you can fool around with when you feel like it.

The guests (and I) loved my grand mom’s fried flounder and sea bass, both bought fresh, and her fried Jersey tomatoes, red, not green. She also provided yeast rolls and desserts, often pies. I used to watch her make a complete apple pie in about five minutes, except for the baking. With the leftover dough, she made what she called, “pinwheels” by rolling up pieces of dough with sugar and cinnamon and baking them.

Our neighbor across the street, on the bay, had a 40-foot sport fisherman that he used for pursuing marlin and other game fish. When he caught blues or bonita, he usually asked my grandmother if she wanted them, which meant I had to clean them. This wasn’t much of a problem, because I did that for spending money at the boat docks.

The most loyal of the returnees was the Hill family, coming in the early years by train from Philadelphia, and in later years by car. This was a bit scary, because Bill, the father, resembled Mr. McGoo, with his thick glasses and squinted eyes. That’s probably why he had curb feelers installed on his ’57 Chevy, which already had a dented fender the first time they arrived in it.

The Hills always booked three weeks in August. When they went out, they went as a family, and Bill always showed up first on the porch, jingling what must have been jackpot amounts of coins in his pocket while waiting for the others. The daughters, Marie and or Jean, came next, and Marie usually sat there rocking while smoking a cigarette, and Jean seemed to like one of the wooden benches by the door. She usually sat hunched forward, gripping the front slats of the bench. Eventually, Elizabeth, the mother, would appear, and off they would go.

It would have been difficult for guests to all get ready at once, because they shared one bathroom with a tub on the second floor, and a half bath with just a sink and toilet on the third. A shower was outside in the rear, with both hot and cold water, and beachgoers were supposed to rinse off before entering the house. Not all of them did, considering that sometimes the bathtub held enough sand to build a small sandcastle. The family used a bathroom on the first floor which was closed to guests. I suppose more bathrooms would’ve been required in order to call it a true bed and breakfast.

During the last two weeks, the other daughter, Doris, would show up with her son, Jerry, and his younger sister. As a doting grandfather, Bill always bought Jerry expensive toys, which he quickly broke, leaving the carnage behind. Some were still salvageable enough for us to use. Some of the toys were nice enough and big enough that my older brother and I almost prayed that Jerry would break them but leave them at least partially working.

Jerry would have probably been labeled hyperactive if he had been born a decade or so later, but he seemed about as threatening as a land turtle when compared to Vincent, from the Bronx. Vincent more closely resembled a Tasmanian devil than a turtle. Vincent figured out how to break more than mere toys. I don’t know if Jerry and Vincent ever stayed at the same time, but Vincent’s parents, Heimy and Frances, rented the top apartment in the back each summer for two weeks. Frances apparently felt at home there, because she spent much of her vacation leaning out the kitchen window and gabbing from her lofty perch with whomever would listen, or, more appropriately, whoever managed to not escape without being seen. They were nice, friendly people, though, but with a Bronx coarseness.

Many of the guests became more than guests and became friends of the family. This was sometimes good, but was sometimes a problem, but it’s not worth mentioning, other than mentioning it.

One family from Mount Vernon, New York had three daughters and one son. They bought a home on the water a few blocks away and spent many summers there. Yes, they were rolling in the dough, but their Wildwood Crest vacations started at the Bay View, in modestly priced rooms with a shared bathroom.

A mother and son duo showed up each year and he caught more fish with a hand line than many people caught with a rod and reel. Weird that their last name was Trout. . . I’ve never caught a single fish with a hand line, probably because I never tried it.

Rocking chairs sat in a row along the entire length of the porch, with a glider at each end. My bedroom back then was adjacent to the wrap-around porch and over the rustling of blinds from the bay breeze I often heard anecdotes, tall tales, and jokes from guests who often gathered on the porch at night. I suppose a six pack was cheaper than going to one of the many nightclubs uptown, and considerably less hectic. Some of their jokes didn’t make much sense to me, that is, until years later. Sometimes, when I learned another meaning of a word, or learned a bit more about the facts of life, I’d recall one of the jokes I heard and it suddenly made sense. Oh, so that’s what that meant. . .

My aunt, and sometimes my mother ran the place after my grandmother died, and there were some good years, but as my parents aged, so went the Bay View. For awhile they rented rooms to a few people, but eventually they stopped completely. They had neither the resources nor the ability to maintain the property, and by the time my mom passed away in 1984 and my dad in 1986, the structure needed serious rehab.

The subsequent owners, including those who presently reside there, made some changes. Whether or not all of them were good is rather subjective, and I undoubtedly express a bit of bias in this area.
They eliminated the sun porch and made it part of a big room. The center hallway disappeared, along with the rather majestic open staircase, which is now bordered by walls. A three-story addition was added to the back. The railings around the porch are now fancier, and a flare was added to the front steps. The biggest disappointment, however, is the absence of the awnings on the porch. Someone decided a gable would look nice in the center of the porch roof. This would pretty much make an awning in that location look silly.

The only reason someone would not want awnings on the porch would be that they were never there when the awnings were. The difference was remarkable, and we always hated when they had to come down for the winter. The awnings provided a cool refuge from hot summer days and made the bay breezes more enjoyable. In the fall, when they came off, it was as if the starkness of winter had arrived a few months early.

The present owners keep the property in fine shape, but I remember it from its heyday, and I liked it more back then, but that’s probably nothing more than a nostalgia thing. Yet I have to wonder what good is a porch without awnings, rocking chairs, and a bunch of people sharing their time?

In just the past two weeks, three people on bicycles were hit by automobiles, and two of them were taken to the hospital in critical condition.

I ride my bike pretty much every day, dodging both cars and pedestrians, and I see many others on bikes. Only a small percentage, including bicycle police officers, bothers wearing helmets. I consider my helmet one of those things I just won’t leave home without.

I wasn’t always this way. Until I first gave up riding bikes at 17, I never wore a helmet, and I’m not sure they even made them. My first wheels were a scooter, a Vespa 125, which I rode for a few years, but never while wearing a helmet. Of course, I was both fearless and invincible, which explains taking two of my friends out around the bell buoy in an 8-foot pram with a 3-horse motor on it. Yes, it also explains many other stupid things I did which didn’t seem all that stupid until I guess, the age of reason set in and I started raising a family.

Let’s get back to the original subject matter. I don’t know the details of either recent accident, one involving a boy who was hit by a car and the other involving two teenagers hit by a car driven by a 77-year-old woman, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I do know that the boy who was critically injured had a head injury, and I’d almost bet that the teen also landed in the hospital because of an injury to his head.

I understand the need for young people to look “cool” by not wearing a geeky helmet, which isn’t required while riding on the boardwalk but is in all other places for those 16 and under. That’s a stupid law, because a person’s head doesn’t automatically get harder at the age of 17. Most kids (and I) don’t expect to fall off a bicycle; like how spastic can one get? Unforeseen problems sometimes arise, however, and wearing a helmet can make you look smart, even if you think it makes you look stupid.

Mechanical problems can occur anytime. Once, while riding a trail, I had almost completely stopped when I applied my front brake. It locked and slammed me instantly to the ground! Fortunately I only experienced a bit of pain, but my head never hit the ground. If it had, only my face was unprotected, because I was wearing a helmet.

If a cyclist gets hit by a vehicle, even at a slow speed, the impact can send the bike and the rider out of control. If wearing a helmet, the rider’s head usually survives intact. If not, it’s often the difference between getting scuffed up and being put on life support in the hospital. Road burn and even broken bones are not usually life threatening, but many head injuries are. The professional riders in Le Tour de France and other races wear helmets and survive some pretty impressive crashes.

Many states passed helmet laws for motorcycles, and many repealed them. Bikers (the other type) didn’t want the government telling them what to do, so many of them now ride without helmets. This is even stupider than not wearing one when riding a bicycle, because the impact is usually much greater. Even Evel Knievel was smart enough to wear a helmet, and he survived many crashes that probably would have killed him had he not been wearing one.

I suspect that one reason for so many bare-headed riders here is the large number of bicycles rented every day. A helmet requirement would require a few changes in the rental business, but safety should always trump profits.

While riding my bike it occurred to me that exercise increases my output of CO2, and I wondered how that compares with the amount generated by an automobile, or perhaps a motorcycle. Ha ha, I’m kidding, because I really don’t care about my carbon footprint, or whatever it’s called. What I care about it making money, so I decided I need a CAT scam. No, I didn’t say scan, I said scam, as in Cap and Trade scam. I’m going to sell carbon offsets.

What’s that, you may ask? Well, it’s simply a method of allowing huge consumers of energy, such as the behemoth Owl Gore, to pay me so they can produce more carbon. No, it doesn’t reduce the carbon output, but it makes money for me, and it makes the greenies feel good.

You see, I’m not a believer in this man-made global warming, or climate change thing. We have cold spells and heat waves, but overall, the global temperatures have been decreasing for at least the last decade. And that’s using trumped up temperature data, where many of the thermometers were deliberately placed in areas where the temperature was almost certain to be hotter than in the general area. For example, one was located near an incinerator, and another beside an airport runway. Some were simply ignored when they didn’t fall in line with hoped-for temperatures. Leaked emails proved there was a consensus all right, but it was a consensus to stack the deck in favor of the global warming, or “climate change.”

Global warming alarmists always quickly dismiss cold snaps as aberrations with no relation to climate change, but then holler that they told us so when a heat wave rolls around. They never seem to mention the effects of El Nino and La Nina, both of which affect global weather patterns, generally about every three to seven years. Nor do they consider large volcanic eruptions, which play havoc with weather patterns.

Whether or not global temperatures are actually increasing is less important than whether or not the increases are due to people’s interference. Historical data shows that the Earth was both warmer and cooler in centuries past, long before the industrial age and automobiles. Remember that in the 70’s the “experts” told us we were headed for another ice age, but after 30 or 40 years, we still haven’t unplugged our refrigerators.

But who cares? I’m going into the cap and trade business, and you may just wonder how to go about this, just in case you want to try it. I could write a lot more here, telling you how you can make thousands of dollars each day while sitting in your pajamas, if you simply send me enough money to pry the secrets free from my mind. I can even offer a discount if you respond within a certain amount of time.

That’s not necessary, however. All anyone needs in order to make a fortune in the cap and trade business is to sell some air to big companies. Yes, that’s right, let them pay you to belch out enormous amounts of carbon dioxide from their manufacturing facilities and corporate offices. Tell them to crank up the heat in the winter and turn up the AC during the summer months. Leave lights burning (preferably incandescents, while they last) 24/7 365. Just like Owl Gore and Obama, you’ll never have to work a day in your life.

Where do you get these so-called carbon credits to sell? Well, I guess the EPA will help with that. Using complex formulas it determines how much CO2 is permissible, depending on the size and scope of the operation. You then give (or take, who cares?) credits for any company which produces less than its quota in emissions. You then simply sell the credits to companies that need to exceed the allowable amount of emissions. Yes, it sounds something like a shell game, but that’s only because you’re not quite green enough. Weird, isn’t it that being green in this case means not being a greenhorn?

I, like thousands of scientists, do not believe that carbon dioxide is a greenhouse gas. That was simply a theory, later recanted by the person who first considered it. That person also happened to be one of Owl Gore’s professors. Whether or not Gore actually believed the theory is irrelevant when one considers the millions of dollars and phony accolades he received for riding the bandwagon.

Plants need CO2 to survive, and, through photosynthesis, they generate oxygen for other life forms. Carbon dioxide is used in fire extinguishers, especially for electrical fires, and is used for refrigeration and cooling in its liquid form.

In its solid form it is known as dry ice, and is used when something must be kept cool for longer periods than would be possible with regular ice, especially when food is shipped over long distances.

It has many industrial uses, and is also used in the food and beverage industries, and adds the bubbles to soft drinks, beer, and some wines.

CO2 also provides a quick way to inflate survival rafts, and has been used as a propellant in air guns as well as aerosol cans.

Yes, carbon dioxide has many uses, but its most dangerous use is by whacko environmentalists, who wave it around as a cause of man-made global warming. If they manage to get climate change legislation passed, the average person will see utility rates skyrocket. That’s a major part of the plan. Obama himself has even said so, and he and his group of investors stand to pocket millions if the legislation is ever passed. All it will take is a few idiot RINOs like Lindsey Graham, (Rin, S. Carolina), who has supported the “climate change” scam.

If you can’t tell from his appearance that Graham is a mealy-mouthed liberal, just wait a few seconds for him to open his mouth. He’s worse than McCain and runs about even with Arlen Specter, who finally ran head on into responsible voters.

Many Republicans tossed confetti in the air when Scott Brown was elected to Ted Kennedy’s seat. They figured he now tipped the scales to defeat the socialist health care bill. Congress decided to push the bill through anyway, even though they lacked a few votes. The elephants quickly cleaned up the mess with their trunks after Senator Brown proved his worth as a dedicated RINO, voting with the Dems on a few ridiculous bills, such as “financial reform,” which is nothing more than a payoff to the unions. I guess Mr. Brown wants to be known for “reaching out” to the other side, a gesture still practiced by some Republicans, even though it’s pretty much the same as trying to pet a rabid mongrel. As the folk song says, “When will they ever learn?”

It’s both easy and troubling to observe that cap and trade legislation may enter our lives, whether we want it or not, and whether it’s generally good or bad for our welfare. We’re supposed to have a system of checks and balances in this country, but the current president has succeeded in circumventing Congress for passing much of his socialist agenda.

Getting back to the situation at hand, so-called green energy will cost everyone, just as the ethanol fiasco has increased prices of both gasoline and food. It has also proven to be less efficient than regular gasoline. The greenies keep pushing for all-electric cars, while utilities struggle to keep up with output. Where do they think the power to charge the batteries will come from? Perhaps I’m a modern Don Quixote, because I understand that wind and solar power provide intermittent service and require huge resources in land. Fuel cells may be the best option for the future, but no one seems very intent on pursuing that technology. Until they do, I just want to cash in.

The powers that be in Wildwood, in another brilliant move, okayed riding bikes on the boardwalk until 12 noon. Then they added that it would not become law until North Wildwood enacted a similar ordinance for its part of the boardwalk. North Wildwood officials stated that there is no intention to do so at this time. That’s sort of like saying you don’t have to pay for metered parking as long as North Wildwood doesn’t require it. I hope the latter doesn’t become a reality, because North Wildwood’s meters operate until the last Sunday in October, much later than those in Wildwood and the Crest.

At least the commission stated that riding would be permitted until 12 noon, unlike the local CVS pharmacy, which has a neon sign proclaiming, “Open from 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. 7 Days.” That means the store is open for only four hours a day, which is not the case.

The U.S. Navy eliminates confusion concerning a.m. and p.m. by using a 24-hour clock. Noon is designated as twelve hundred, and midnight is twenty-four hundred. One minute after midnight is 00:01.

In the real world, there’s no real consensus on whether or not noon is a.m. or p.m., but it’s more common to be considered as p.m., which means post meridian, not past midnight. It’s easier to think of the time between 12 o’clock and 1 o’clock in determining which to use. For example, 12:15 p.m. is in the afternoon, and 12:15 a.m. is in the morning. Or you can just say, “noon fifteen,” I suppose.

Anyway, if you’re thinking of creating a permanent neon sign for your business, you should consider the format in advance; otherwise you could see a rush of customers in the morning attempting to beat the noon deadline. Or, you could experience many disgruntled customers upset that your business closed before midnight.

Some other items considered by the Wildwood commissioners are:

• Underage drinking in taverns, provided the state passes a similar law.
• Placing permanent signs on the boardwalk that read, “Free Tramcar Rides Tomorrow.”
• Buying giant umbrellas to match the giant beach balls.
• Extending the tourism and development tax to include not just motels and restaurants, but also Anglesea Auto Repair, which already charges its customers for the tax.

The commissioners adjourned the meeting when they were unable to think of anything more ridiculous than considering keeping bars open 24/7.

Okay, I’m kidding. They’re not really considering the giant umbrellas, but that doesn’t mean they won’t at some point in the future.

Well, I have to stop because I have to get to the pharmacy before noon.

There’s one big reason people of all ages and from all walks of life rent bicycles and pedal around the island. No one has identified that reason, but the bike rental agencies don’t really care, as long as people continue renting bikes.

During the summer season a bike may be the quickest means of getting from one part of the island to another. This is due to cyclists not having to worry about stopping for those silly traffic signals that operate independently from block to block. Most are located on streets with very little traffic. My favorite is at Aster Road and Park Blvd in the Crest. The school on Aster was demolished and replaced with houses years ago, but the traffic signal lives on. It’s vitally important because of the steady stream of vehicles crossing Park Blvd and driving to the bulkhead a hundred feet away.

Traffic on Park Blvd used to be heavier years ago, partly due to the party boats that docked between Sweet Briar and Aster Roads, but also because more vacationers stayed at the many rooming houses in the area. During the 50’s and 60’s, the buses also ran a Park Blvd route during the summer months. Guests at our rooming house had only to go stand on the corner to catch a ride uptown for a night of clubbing or walking the boards. Nowadays, the Great American Trolley Company runs fake trolleys on the island, but no one seems to know when or where they run, so they run mostly empty.

Back to the bikes. . . The second biggest impediments to bike riders, after vehicles, are beach-going pedestrians, who now enjoy special protection under New Jersey law. Beachgoers dragging folding chairs, umbrellas, wagons, coolers, and kids, step off the curb without looking and play Frogger with the traffic. Vehicles must stop for them, and they apparently assume that bicycles are vehicles. This year could set a new record for shoobie road kill.

The safest place to ride within the City of Wildwood, other than the boardwalk, is in Wildwood Crest or North Wildwood. Both adjacent municipalities have both bike paths and bike lanes. In Wildwood, the onus is on the cyclist to avoid getting run over. Cyclists in Wildwood often ride on the sidewalks, sort of like a payback for the idiots who walk on the bike paths in North Wildwood.

Bikes must be off the boardwalk by 11:00 a.m., and until that time, the walk resembles Le Tour de France. I still see some idiots riding the boards after eleven o’clock, which isn’t that surprising, because some people ignore the no dogs rule also. There’s a reason dogs are not permitted on the boardwalk, and it involves their lack of potty training.

As I’ve pointed out before, people have apparently lost the ability to read, even when pictures replace words. They can’t read speed limit signs, stop signs, and signs designating areas for bikes only, so don’t assume a car will necessarily stop for a stop sign or traffic signal.

At some point in time, someone figured out that rented bikes in a resort town were not nearly as exciting or dangerous as they could be, and neither tandem nor triple seat bikes filled the bill, so the multi-rider surrey was introduced. These contraptions carry several individuals, all with different ideas about the direction and speed of the carriage. They also take up a lot of space on the road, and don’t appear to be as maneuverable as they should be. No one has figured out how to properly work one, so it’s not unusual to see four people yelling at each other about where they’re supposed to go and who’s not pedaling. For some reason they consider this funny and sit there laughing loudly while impeding traffic.

Bike riders will soon see an added element of danger to their rides around the island. The new commissioners in Wildwood held a hearing concerning extending bar hours from 3:00 a.m. to 4:00 a.m, but wisely vetoed the measure, promising instead to consider keeping bars open all night long. This pretty much proves that on any level of politics, only morons are interested in the job. What could be better for a resort town swollen with tourists than to have drunks staggering and driving around 24/7? One commissioner is a former cop, so maybe the plan is to increase revenue from DUIs. . .

The bar owners claim that they are losing vast sums of money by not being permitted to stay open an hour later. I think that any tavern owner who can’t make enough money from booze by three in the morning should have his liquor license permanently revoked and should be appointed to a position in DC.

They advertise the Wildwoods as the cheapest vacation spot at the Jersey Shore. If this law passes people can stop throwing away money on motel rooms and spend their entire vacations sitting on bar stools. Sounds like a lot of fun.

Oops! I forgot that this was about the pleasures and benefits of biking on a crowded barrier island. Does that sound like a fun thing to do?

On the eve of Independence Day weekend, I thought it would be nice to write something about patriotism.

California is painting over a mural of the American flag that has been there for eight years, stating that it’s considered graffiti. Hmm. . . . I know graffiti when I see it, and Old Glory doesn’t qualify in that department.

Okay, then, Arlington High School, in Massachusetts, refused to allow the Pledge of Allegiance to be recited every morning. Judson Pierce, a Committee member, said he would have to do more research and wanted to be sure that students who didn’t want to say the pledge were protected. Hey, if someone has a problem with saying the Pledge of Allegiance, what the heck are they doing in this country? Go back where you belong!

Oh, yeah, and after the Supreme Court said a cross in the Mojave Desert honoring Korean War veterans could stay, some kind soul tore it down and carted it off.

Somehow we got a president who seems to hate Christians, Jews, whites, and America in general, and kowtows to our proven enemies. He thinks Marxism and socialism are fair economic systems, because they spread the wealth around from those who work hard to those who do little or no work. There’s a reason socialism works for insects, but not people. Bugs only produce the same thing, over and over, and they don’t buy houses, cars, or boats. Sort of like Islamic countries, when you think about it. The only things they seem capable of making are IEDs.

Well, this has gotten so depressing I think I’ll just hold off until next year to write something about patriotism. Or maybe I’ll just wait until November 2012. Right now I’m going to go hang my American flag banners.

Here on the island it’s apparent that the summer season has started, because a number of streets are being repaved, torn up, patched, etc., usually with detours in place. I don’t know who figures out the planning for these projects, but it’s been pretty much the same deal for decades. The new paving on part of Park Blvd didn’t last long before being chopped up and patched. It’s starting to look like a typical Wildwood street again. Maybe the Moreys can start charging for people to ride the streets in ATVs.

I now have my official salt water fishing card. It’s free, required, and stupid. It used to be a simple matter of just buying some bait and fishing. No one had to tell me what size fish I could keep, because I wasn’t going to waste my time cleaning something that was small. Now they have size charts for each type of fish, and limits on how many you can catch of each species. For some types, there are limits on when and/or where you can catch them. I don’t need fishing to be this complicated; it pretty much takes all the fun out of it.

The crabs are running okay, but I only keep the hard shell type, which have to be 4-1/2 inches tip-to-tip. Shedders and softshells each can be smaller, but I get them confused. I’ll let restaurants and bait shops figure out which are the soft shells and which are the shedders.

Note to drivers on the island: None of the streets here are interstates, and none have 50 mph speed limits.

Weather permitting, I ride my bike every day, and it’s no longer whether or not pedestrians will be walking on the parts clearly designated for bicycles, but how many. Some of them actually act indignant that I would think to ride my bike in an area clearly designated for bikes only.

The other day, I rode into the wildlife refuge, or whatever it is, in Lower Twonship and was attacked by a rogue greenhead fly, which chased me relentlessly for about a mile. A park employee’s chair sat empty with a can of “OFF!” nested in the drink holder.

The island has no ridable hills, excepting boardwalk ramps, but the winds more than make up for the deficiency. March through June is usually the worst, with July and August bringing some almost windless days. It’s been pretty breezy every day for weeks. Any cyclist will attest to that.

Back in the day, The Crest Oyster House used to draw pretty big crowds. Later, a bait and tackle shop occupied the premises. This year, signs went up announcing Tony Luke’s Old Philly Style Sandwiches, coming in the summer 2010. Well, maybe. Somebody decided to pretty much rebuild the whole place, and so far, progress doesn’t look great.

A number of things on the island have changed through the years. The Crest used to be populated in summer with families from Philly, whose fathers worked in Philly during the week. Mom and the kids spent the whole summer here. With the advent of more women working, it seems that many families with summer homes here spend only their weekends on the island.

A furniture company is advertising that for a limited time, they will pay my sales tax! Wait! When did this get twisted all around? I don’t owe a sales tax, because I’m not the one selling the furniture! It’s not a buyer’s tax. Yes, of course the consumer ends up paying the tax, but the merchant is the one responsible for actually paying it to the state. Why is this tax added to the price, rather than included in the price? If legislators want to do something useful for a change, they should pass a law requiring sales taxes to be included in the final price. Don’t go calling me stupid; because I am well aware of the fact that I would be paying the same amount, but if something is priced at $29.95, I want to pay only $29.95, and let the merchant worry about how much the tax happens to be.

AT&T advertises that it covers 97 percent of all Americans. What they don’t mention is so do Verizon, Sprint, and Joe Schmoe’s Phone Service. Yes, with any of these plans you can call anyone with access to a telephone, meaning all but 3 percent of the population. I don’t know what percentage of the population comprises babies and toddlers, but I’m guessing three.

The fireworks start on July 4th this year and every Friday night starting on the 9th.

Younger generations often wonder why so many of us old fogies, AKA baby boomers, still feel nostalgic about the 1950’s. They ask us if things aren’t better now, what with all the technology available.

Well, technology is a good thing, but I’d give it all up to revert to the type of life we had during the sixth decade of the twentieth century. Yes, I’d give up personal computers, ATMs, mobile phones, color TV, CDs, DVDs, and the rest of the technology that has made many things easier in so many ways.

I suppose readers are now scratching their heads, wondering what’s wrong with me, and if that’s the case, then I doubt that you’re a boomer.

Okay, I suppose some explanations are in order. Back then, we prayed in schools, people followed the rule of law, and most people, especially kids, respected authority. When we watched programs on our black and white TVs we never had to worry about children being present, because swear words were not permitted on TV, and nudity was not considered an element of family fare.

During the fifties we defined abortion as what it is – baby killing. We realized that the baby’s rights were as important as the rights of the pregnant woman, and that a woman’s “choice” to destroy her baby was indeed a criminal act. Most doctors realized they had taken an oath to do no harm. That all went out the window, along with the mangled babies, after 1973, and ridding women of unwanted children became a cottage industry for some in the medical profession. I suspect the baby hackers largely comprise doctors not good enough to be real surgeons who save lives.

Homosexuality was not considered a “gay” activity during those times, and those who considered it vile and disgusting were not ridiculed as the bad guys. Now it’s not uncommon to see grown men prancing down the street in a parade, carrying “Gay Pride” signs. If God thought this was a good idea, Sodom and Gomorrah probably wouldn’t have been vaporized. Although homosexuals make up only a small part of the population, they have inserted themselves into many sitcoms and movies, often treating the subject as if it were humorous. One comedian on a late night show did his entire routine about the fact that he was “gay.” Ha ha. . .

Now they keep pushing for equal rights, as if they deserved special treatment because they practice perverted behavior. Their rights are no different from those of heterosexual individuals. Everyone is free to marry someone of the opposite sex. The idea of people of the same sex marrying each other seems, to many, as ridiculous as someone marrying an article of clothing or an appliance. Should we also make it legal for someone to marry a sex doll? When will this insanity stop?

Probably not anytime soon, based on a Mississippi high school canceling its prom because it told a girl she could not wear a tuxedo and bring her girlfriend. The ACLU took up the case, so the school said, “No prom.”

They keep trying to repeal the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy in the military. It’s obvious that, since elimination of the draft, the military had to look to women and homosexuals to fill the ranks. Women have served on ships for a quite awhile now (how ridiculous) and now they’re going to put them on submarines (even more ridiculous). If you think putting homosexuals on a ship to share the same living quarters with heterosexuals is a good idea, then you have a different view than my shipmates and I had.

Back when Ike was in office we didn’t have to worry much about the country becoming socialist, or even communist. We were taught in school that something like that could never happen here. That was before the era of the Clintons and Obama. We now have a president and Democratic (Ha-ha!) congress that is hell-bent on tearing up the United States Constitution. The socialist health care bill was rammed down our throats by invoking a procedure that circumvented the two-thirds vote requirement. Republicans, and much of the general public, just sit around in the pot while the water gets warmer. Pretty soon it will be too late to jump out.

Our president is determined to weaken our country and signed a ridiculous treaty with Russia concerning nuclear weapons and missile defense. It hasn’t been pushed through congress yet, but why bother going through the motions? This president does whatever he wants to, whether the people like it or not. Per my observations, he has never acted very presidential; only smug and arrogant. During one of his teleprompter speeches to a partisan audience, he claimed that, in Arizona, if you took your kid out for ice cream you could be harassed. That’s not what the Arizona law said, and it was obvious that the president hadn’t bothered with reading the law before criticizing it. But why bother with silly little details? How about because, as president of the U.S. details are very important?

It still amazes me that, after 9-11, we elected a president named Barack Hussein Obama, who, for at least twenty years sat in church listening to the rantings of a so-called preacher who hates America, white people, and Jews. He has aligned himself with Marxists and radicals throughout his entire adult life and now is determined to force his views on us. Now I hear murmurs concerning possible impeachment, but we see how well that went with Clinton, who they decided to not remove from office for something that would have been a felony for real people. Even if Obama were to be impeached and removed, though, how much better off would we be, with two nut cases, Biden and Pelosi, waiting in the wings?

I suppose part of the nostalgia thing is due to missing old friends and relatives who have passed on, but that’s only part of it. We had our problems back then, but they didn’t seem as ominous. We were proud of our country, respected our flag, as well as authority, and were happy with a lot less than what we require in modern times. An old joke said there was an Eisenhower doll. You wind it up and it does nothing for eight years. Maybe that wasn’t so bad.

It would be time for my annual Memorial Day column if there were such a thing, but since there isn’t, I’ll just move along with my biennial, or triennial, or whatever it is Memorial Day column, which offers advice for summer visitors to the Jersey shore. I guess that means I write it every two or three years or so.

The best way to get to the Wildwoods is by train. Unfortunately, all of the train tracks were removed long ago and converted to bike paths. If you’re coming by bicycle, pack lightly and allow a day or two for travel in each direction.

For those of you coming from far away, it’s very convenient to fly into Cape May County International Airport, if you happen to have your own airplane. Otherwise, you can hitchhike from Atlantic City International Airport, which resembles the real thing, only on a much smaller scale. It’s not in Atlantic City, sort of how The Crest Tavern is not in Wildwood Crest. Nor is Anglesea Auto Repair (don’t go there) in Anglesea. What is it with these places? The Quebec motel is not in Quebec, and The Nassau Motel is not in Nassau, and The Nantucket Motel is not in Nantucket. . . I could go on and on, but strangely enough, The Heart of Wildwood motel is in Wildwood and The Offshore Motel is offshore, meaning inshore, or onshore. If you’re one of those people who thinks that offshore means out in the ocean, rather than inland you would be right, but you wouldn’t be from Cape May County. Don’t ask me. . . By the way, Laura doesn’t own Laura’s Fudge. I know Uncle Bill can’t be flipping pancakes in all of those places.

If you plan on staying at one of the island’s famous Doo-wop motels, you may need a time machine to go back to that era. Condos are readily available at exorbitant prices. For those who consider a stay in a high-rise hotel as the ultimate in beach vacations, your best bet is to go to Myrtle Beach. The future for high rises in Wildwood is still a possibility if the ousted mayor, waiting with his concrete trucks, ever gets his way. You’d think they’d do something with that block the Rio Motel used to sit on, like put in bocce ball courts, or shuffleboard, or a few kiddy rides. Even a flea market would be better than letting it sit there hurting peoples’ eyes. Maybe they have some more of those giant beach balls sitting around somewhere.

For those of you coming from Pennsylvania, you may be shocked to know that New Jersey’s traffic signs and signals differ considerably from those in PA. Stop signs and traffic signals apply to everyone, not just the other guy, so don’t go barreling through either one as if you’re a cop trying to get to Wawa. On main thoroughfares, you’re not required to stop at every intersection, and there’s no requirement for applying your brakes every few hundred feet while driving on a highway. Only the right foot should be used for both the accelerator and brake, thus ensuring that you’re not trying to stop and go at the same time. Your vehicle should be kept to the right of those yellow lines on the road, even on curves.

Some visitors have asked if it’s considered a hobby, such as bird watching, to watch tram cars. I explain that the “Watch the tram car,” announcement means to get out of the way, rather than to explicitly watch it. This is the slogan someone picked long ago, and it’s probably better than using an air horn.

They planted new palm trees at the Sunset Bay restaurant, because the ones from last year didn’t survive the winter, due to global warming. The owners apparently are not aware of the fact that only one type of palm tree is indigenous to the Wildwoods, and that’s the plastic palm. These seem to thrive in all types of weather, and, if desired, the fronds can be removed and stored for the winter; I suppose to reduce color fade.

Mariner’s Landing has a new attraction, the secret Ghost Ship. The idea isn’t much different from the old pirate ship, Skua that was a featured attraction on Hunt’s Pier for a couple of decades. It’s sure to make more money for the Moreys, whether it’s good or bad. They’re still making money from that stupid slide they dragged up here from Florida way back when.

Yes, they have the Midas touch, and have now secured liquor licenses in Wildwood for their boardwalk restaurants. They already had one in North Wildwood for a water park. What could be better than getting snockered while your kids are playing in the water? I suppose Ocean City still has some good points. They don’t allow booze to be sold anywhere in town, let alone on the boardwalk. My last bit of advice is to wait until you actually get here to start drinking, and quit long before you leave. A lot of you people drive crazy enough when you’re sober.

In keeping with the true meaning of Memorial Day, it looks as if the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial replica will be finished before the weekend. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to stop by and pay your respects.

Bikers, the ones on motorcycles, showed up for the first of two weekends devoted to enthusiasts, one in the spring, and one in the fall. I guess it’s a good idea for the bikers and business owners who reap the profits, but it’s not really that great for others. They don’t really cause much trouble; but their machines belch out deafening roars. The law requires mufflers on cars, so I don’t really get the purpose of the unwritten exemption.

Another new section of boardwalk has been completed for the Moreys. The replaced walk also provides better vehicle access to their piers. No one seems all that interested in replacing parts of the walk in other places, although it’s planned for the future. The city says that UEZ money was used for the new work, and that looks as if it’s maybe going to dry up under the new governor. It would be nice if city officials cared as much about the streets as they do about the boards, but no one has worried about Wildwood streets for at least the past 50 years. If they announced they were going to repave all streets with concrete, the former mayor would probably show a lot of interest.

Just an observation, but the tram cars used to stop before reaching Mariner’s Landing, that is, until the Moreys took over the old Fun Pier, where The Great White rollercoaster now sits. It suddenly became a good idea to improve the boardwalk so the tram cars could run all the way to each end. This is all simply coincidental, I suppose.

Residents can hope that if Wildwood ever decides to improve the main avenues it doesn’t follow the formula used for the north section of Pacific Avenue. This past year they announced the rest of Pacific was going to be improved, and there was even talk of LEDs to light the way. Fortunately, that hasn’t happened. It still amazes me how, after three attempts, they still managed to mess up the street! The downtown area used to bustle during the summers, day and night, but shopping malls are not the reason it went downhill in a hurry.

Rarely missing an opportunity to use someone else’s idea, former city officials attempted to emulate Cape May’s pedestrian mall. They forgot a few things, however, and one was that Wildwood is not Cape May and shouldn’t try to be. Merchants along Pacific Avenue were forced to pay for this fiasco, and many of them left town after discovering that the pedestrians were on the boardwalk. Thankfully, they finally tore up the mall and gave the bricks away to residents who yearned to create their own pedestrian malls.

While trying to figure out what the three-foot high letters painted on the bike trail in North Wildwood, reading, “BIKE ONLY” meant, I determined, by observation, that it means walk with toddlers and dogs, obstructing those on bicycles. Strollers also seem to fit within the definition of bikes. I’m not talking about an isolated incident, but a rather common occurrence among those who think they’re special and don’t have to follow any rules. Also, even during this early part of the season, the wooden pathway running from 13th Avenue south, has only two or three signs in each direction indicating that one side is for bikes, and the other is for pedestrians. They clearly need a greater number of signs, and should consider installing flashing lights and alarms.

Speaking of people not following rules, I saw a sloppy-looking individual park his vehicle in the fire zone in front of a dollar store, hang a handicapped sign on his rearview mirror, and waddle into the store. These people never seem to get cited by the police for being arrogant and idiotic.

Also, for anyone who’s interested, drivers making left turns do not have the right-of-way over oncoming traffic at stop signs, and there is no “taking turns” at a regular two-way stop sign, only at three- and four-way stops.

For anyone who’s interested, the marshes are starting to green up, and the unusually high number of flood tides has the laughing gulls squawking, but not laughing, about their floating nests, which shouldn’t be floating. If the eggs start to get away, the gulls sometimes destroy them.

Some of the seasonal stores off the walk have opened for the season, some only on weekends and some full time. Others are waiting for more crowds. Hired help is hard to come by at this time of year without importing workers from other countries. There’s that school thing here. It may be even harder to find help this year because some Philly teachers went on strike, and the students have to hang around up there until the end of June. I remember when my Philly friends would wait for me to get out of school each day because they got out so much earlier than we did. Things change. . .

They’re still building condos, even though they can’t sell the ones already built. Some people still don’t understand that Wildwood visitors want motels, not condos or high rises. That’s the way it’s been for at least fifty years, and it’s not likely to change based on developers’ whims.

This whole article has been a bit whimsical, so I’ll just add that the Ferris wheel on Mariner’s Landing still has LED’s, but it seems just a bit brighter than last year, and the change of colors and patterns is back. Well, at least there’s some good news. . .