Beaching out of season
It is late afternoon on Long Beach Island and a cargo ship is sliding south out on the Atlantic. The awsome Glen Jones is on 105.7 FM doing one of his day jobs, the Saturday afternoon shift. It's a very different listening experience from his WFMU Sunday afternoon show but an illuminating one nonetheless. I don't know how much creative control he has on his commercial radio shows though there are noticeable differences from the usual classic rock jock like unusual song selections from the typical roster of artists ("Working Man" from Rush instead of the dead horse that is "Tom Sawyer" or "The Immigrant Song" from Led Zeppelin instead of the dreaded you know what with the bustles in the hedgerows and whatnot) and interesting footnotes when one of the hoary old warhorses is on the playlist (he notes that "Carry On" by Kansas was on the soundtrack to a little-regarded 1975 movie called Heroes that starred Henry Winkler and Harrison Ford). God bless Jonesy for injecting listenability into a dead format on a near-dead medium.
The sun is trying to break through as I type this under a slowly rotating rusted ceiling fan on the balcony. It's been a bit of a dreary day weather-wise but it's OK. Just being here in the off-season drops one's blood pressure 50 points and induces a calmness as the sounds of the crashing waves massage the soul.
This, as they say, is the life.
The island is girding itself for the summer madness to come. The stores are crammed full of groceries and beach supplies and new souvenirs and row upon row of insanely expensive bottled water. There are signs on the boulevard saying "Stay Alert: Traffic lights turn on May 12" . One of the local pubs was test driving their "party bus", anticipating the waves of weaving revelers to come. On the down side, the slowing economy appears to have touched down here as there are more "For Rent" signs up then I remember seeing at this time last year.
Still, the dogs are out for their walks, the gulls are swooping large lazy ellipses and the waves keep karooning onto the sand. Jones just threw on "Thunder Road". Time to sit back and keep an eye on that ocean.
The sun is trying to break through as I type this under a slowly rotating rusted ceiling fan on the balcony. It's been a bit of a dreary day weather-wise but it's OK. Just being here in the off-season drops one's blood pressure 50 points and induces a calmness as the sounds of the crashing waves massage the soul.
This, as they say, is the life.
The island is girding itself for the summer madness to come. The stores are crammed full of groceries and beach supplies and new souvenirs and row upon row of insanely expensive bottled water. There are signs on the boulevard saying "Stay Alert: Traffic lights turn on May 12" . One of the local pubs was test driving their "party bus", anticipating the waves of weaving revelers to come. On the down side, the slowing economy appears to have touched down here as there are more "For Rent" signs up then I remember seeing at this time last year.
Still, the dogs are out for their walks, the gulls are swooping large lazy ellipses and the waves keep karooning onto the sand. Jones just threw on "Thunder Road". Time to sit back and keep an eye on that ocean.
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