At the Jersey Shore

Last Thursday, my daughter and I took my parents out to New Jersey for the wedding of a beloved niece's daughter. It took place in the area of the state known as the Jersey Shore. When some guests found out Eri was from Minnesota they started making "Fargo" noises. She quietly explained that comparing Minnesotans to the movie Fargo was like comparing them to "The Jersey Shore". Boy did that get a reaction.

I had last been in this area as a teenager. It has changed so much from a sort of sleazy, sort of nowhere resort area to lovely redeveloped coastal towns full of nice restaurants and upscale condos. The old cottages have largely disappeared, at least in the areas I saw. The friend who took us out for lunch one day did point out that, as in many areas, the low income people have been pushed out as their housing was razed for development. This is not a new story and takes place everywhere from San Francisco to Philadelphia.

What has not changed, though, is the ocean. Wild and grey with rain, it called to me as we ate our lunch in a waterfront restaurant. I love my friend and her son was as beautiful as a model, but they could not keep my attention from the windows and the grandeur outside. The old lady has a friend from the East at her senior building. They both agree that lakes are nice, but there is something about the ocean that is so much more; it is the smell of the salt and they miss it. (of course I had to be a smart ass and say I would mix some salt water, add cat food and run a fan by it.)

It rained and rained and rained the entire time we were there and I have heard it is still raining. In honor of the stoic and classy New Jersians here is a silly version of the song about raining for 40 days and nights.