4th of July on the Jersey Shore
I’d never once been to the Jersey Shore— all I’d ever heard about it was there was something called a Snooki and that it had great scallops. And lots of house-sized flags. It was the perfect place to
July 6th, 2023
Jersey Shore, NJ
I’m currently bonking my tilted head with my palm, trying to get sand out of my ear.
In nine full years of living in New York, I’d never once been to the Jersey Shore— all I’d ever heard about it was there was something called a Snooki and that it had great scallops. And lots of house-sized flags. It was the perfect place to spend our first July 4th as US citizens.
“Sketch On The Beach”
It was quite an experience, plonking ourselves down in the sand with our American pals and celebrating the holiday as traditionally as we could, with sun, sand, and drinking lots of booze out of red solo cups.
I spent a lot of time drawing in my sketchbook (I’m very social) and capturing what I could of the people around me. My pal Tristan really liked the drawing I did of him while our pasty white skin baked in the breeze and an endless squadron of single-engine planes towing banner ads chugged overhead.
Ice Cream Guy!
Every so often a man would appear from behind the dunes and ring a loud bell, sending every child within earshot into a frenzy. They all know what the bell means: It means Ice Cream. Lots of ice cream. (Cash only.)
One Country Under God.
One Trip From the House.
Tristan’s old pal Morgan drove in from Missouri to join the fun. We had a lot of fun chats about his small business which is fast becoming a not-so-small business. He had crazy life stories, ageless wisdom, and a guitar that looked like it had been used as a weapon. (It still played flawlessly). He and his young family showed me how it’s done when lugging all of your stuff from the house to the beach in a single trip, Hobbit style. It’s quite a skill.
Running (for) Water
Like an idiot who thinks he’s in shape, I tried to go for a run on the first morning in the stinking 300-degree humidity. After mile three, I changed states from solid to liquid. If it weren’t for the kind stranger who left a cooler full of tiny water bottles on their lawn, I would have made the full transition into a gas.
Chillin’ With the Wee Sand Chickens
Tristan’s kids were endlessly entertaining: Phoenix would lean into my ear and quietly tell me about his nightmares of a monster named Siren-Head, and Fox would burn me alive with devastating roasts about my shirt out of nowhere. He has a bright future as a judge on Roast Battle. All was well when their mama brought out the watermelon.
July Fwoooar!
Thanks to a visit to my brilliant editor, Justine and her family’s place for dinner, we were full of so much food and patriotic glee by the time we boarded the bus back to New York.
We ambled on over to our friend’s place in Long Island City to watch the Macy’s Fireworks Display from their apartment window— the view was bonkers.
The NYC crowds ended up being treated to a mesmerizing drone swarm before the big banging noises. The Ooohs and Aaahs swelled as the show culminated in a rotating, pulsing scale model of the entire Statue of freakin’ Liberty…