KEANSBURG, NJ's desolate boardwalk
So my Saturday night took an interesting turn when I decided -- after a glorious few hours lounging on the BEACH in early October -- to investigate the Keansburg, NJ boardwalk I haven't been to in years. It literally felt like August outside...it wasn't one of those more typical "warm during the day, but quickly cooling off after dusk" autumn days. It was BALMY...especially surprising being right by the water. I was wearing a sleeveless tee at night and not remotely cool.
My HOW WARM IT WAS set-up has a point...how utterly SURREAL it was to be strolling the amusement park by Raritan Bay when most EVERYTHING was shuttered. And on a Saturday night, too. And only at 8pm. Where the fuck WAS everyone?! I mean, it was like a ghost town. They had two game places open...you know, with skeeball and and other games where you add up points to buy some piece of shit. And the way it's set up...you have to go through the one game place to get to the "boardwalk." It's not technically a boardwalk. You can't even see the bay...which is a narrow parking lot and one large sand dune away. But still, the effect is genuine. But there I was...LITERALLY the only person "on the boardwalk." It actually would've been a good place to be killed, it was so deserted. They had imported palm trees stuffed into planters. I proceeded to stand on a bench and rip 3 fronds from one...and i'm not sure why. I mean, now it just looks like I got back from Palm Sunday mass. I'm just always so taken with palm trees. I also permanently bent the one branch...I hope they don't have video cams and come after me somehow for destroying public property. The video would surely be amusing...the man with the hernia nervously jerking on a palm tree branch to obtain a couple fronds, while standing on a bench under cover of darkness. This is what i'm reduced to on Saturday nights.
Anyway, I used to go to Keansburg as a little kid. It was kinda the closer -- and likely cheaper -- alternative to going all the way to Seaside or Point Pleasant for a boardwalk. I can't say I have specific memories...I just remember "going there." I mean, we're talking YOUNG...while my grandmother was still alive, and she died when I was eight. So the town always will be special to me...and going back there, while most interesting, was certainly a little depressing in the whole "passage of time" aspect. But it was also sad in a general "end of summer" way...I guess, like any beach town can be in the off-season. But that's what was so strange...how it FELT just like August, yet LOOKED like the aftermath of a mass evacuation. Was there NO incentive to open at least a couple rides on a 75 degree, muggy Saturday night, a mere month after Labor Day? Eh, whatever...it worked out for me. Got to stare, absorb, stroll slowly, mercilessly rip palm fronds. I also ascended a massive sand dune to reach the bay beach, with its stunning views of NYC and gently lapping tiny waves. And the bay smell. It really was an incredible little sidetrip. Brief, but wonderful. I'd have loved to have gotten a bayside beer somewhere...but, alas, Gary has no local or available friends to call for such an impromptu endeavor. Heavy sigh. I see solo bar trips becoming a part of my near future. And so, once again, Monmouth County, NJ is the backdrop for one of my soul-searching, entertaining, SOLO car jaunts.
My HOW WARM IT WAS set-up has a point...how utterly SURREAL it was to be strolling the amusement park by Raritan Bay when most EVERYTHING was shuttered. And on a Saturday night, too. And only at 8pm. Where the fuck WAS everyone?! I mean, it was like a ghost town. They had two game places open...you know, with skeeball and and other games where you add up points to buy some piece of shit. And the way it's set up...you have to go through the one game place to get to the "boardwalk." It's not technically a boardwalk. You can't even see the bay...which is a narrow parking lot and one large sand dune away. But still, the effect is genuine. But there I was...LITERALLY the only person "on the boardwalk." It actually would've been a good place to be killed, it was so deserted. They had imported palm trees stuffed into planters. I proceeded to stand on a bench and rip 3 fronds from one...and i'm not sure why. I mean, now it just looks like I got back from Palm Sunday mass. I'm just always so taken with palm trees. I also permanently bent the one branch...I hope they don't have video cams and come after me somehow for destroying public property. The video would surely be amusing...the man with the hernia nervously jerking on a palm tree branch to obtain a couple fronds, while standing on a bench under cover of darkness. This is what i'm reduced to on Saturday nights.
Anyway, I used to go to Keansburg as a little kid. It was kinda the closer -- and likely cheaper -- alternative to going all the way to Seaside or Point Pleasant for a boardwalk. I can't say I have specific memories...I just remember "going there." I mean, we're talking YOUNG...while my grandmother was still alive, and she died when I was eight. So the town always will be special to me...and going back there, while most interesting, was certainly a little depressing in the whole "passage of time" aspect. But it was also sad in a general "end of summer" way...I guess, like any beach town can be in the off-season. But that's what was so strange...how it FELT just like August, yet LOOKED like the aftermath of a mass evacuation. Was there NO incentive to open at least a couple rides on a 75 degree, muggy Saturday night, a mere month after Labor Day? Eh, whatever...it worked out for me. Got to stare, absorb, stroll slowly, mercilessly rip palm fronds. I also ascended a massive sand dune to reach the bay beach, with its stunning views of NYC and gently lapping tiny waves. And the bay smell. It really was an incredible little sidetrip. Brief, but wonderful. I'd have loved to have gotten a bayside beer somewhere...but, alas, Gary has no local or available friends to call for such an impromptu endeavor. Heavy sigh. I see solo bar trips becoming a part of my near future. And so, once again, Monmouth County, NJ is the backdrop for one of my soul-searching, entertaining, SOLO car jaunts.
posted by Gregoire at 11:50 AM
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