"A repository of my time on earth." That's what Jersey, the Jersey shore in particular, represents to Bruce Springsteen. "My memory, the music I"ve made, my friendships, my life ... all buried here in a box somewhere in the sand..." Bruce made these comments May 4th at an induction ceremony into the New Jersey Hall of Fame. Now, as Bruce said, it's hard to believe there really is a New Jersey Hall of Fame, and does New York have one? On the other hand, how cool is it that Springsteen actually showed up to accept, and gave a speech about his love for the Garden State and especially the shore, about the comfort he gets being in the ocean and looking to the shore and seeing his kids coming toward him through the waves? From being in the same place his whole life, walking the same streets, taking his kids to the same beaches his mom took him to when he was a child? Here's a transcript of his speech, and the video.

One of our favorite shore bloggers, Jen Miller of Down the Shore with Jen fame and newly published Jersey shore guide author, barely escapes back to shoobie land after trying to get authentic salt water taffy today in Ocean City for her book party (to be held in Rittenhouse Square...?). It was a windy rainy mess down the shore. We barely survived the parking lot of Pathmark earlier in the day, with winds threatening to take the contents of our cart and our car out to sea. Glad you made it back, Jen. Here's her harrowing report, with excellent and soggy photos.

Hey, aren't dunes supposed to be, like, round? This newly-concave dune at Dorset Avenue in Ventnor had its middle carved out by that freakishly ferocious nor'easter yesterday that pounded our house overnight, flooded the roads that usually flood and made grocery shopping an Olympic event. I'm sure that Ventnor police officer found it amusing watching me hanging on to my shopping cart in 75 mph sustained winds in the parking lot, feeling imperiled for possibly the first time since I moved to the shore, but do I get a prize for my thoughtfulness in making sure the cart got back to the cart corral? (Sent it with the wind at my back, only way to do it). Still, schools were open and people went about their usual business, barreling their SUV's through two feet of water and taking note of trees on their sides, roots exposed. As the day wore on, it became clear: this was one of those nor'easters that sneaks up on the weather people but pounds a punch way bigger than the hyped storms. As Jen Miller details below, Ocean City was even more of a mess, with the bridges closed in the afternoon and lots of erosion. It was December in mid-May. Now, is everyone looking forward to Memorial Day?

UPDATE: Here's a link to Jackie Urgo's story and Tom Gralish's photos.

A day after the Day-After-Mother's Day nor'easter, voters in Ventnor did something as rare as that mid-May winter storm: they threw out the entire incumbent slate of Mayor and Commissioners. In an election literally watched from both sides of the Atlantic _ shout out Sal of Ventnor, Isle of Wight, UK _ not to mention boths sides of the Delaware River, longtime local figure Mayor Tim Kreischer, son of longtime local stalwart Pete Kreischer, and his team were overwhelmingly voted out of office after 16 years. The challengers rode a wave of discontent over high taxes and big projects, including the aforementioned dunes that took a beating in this week's storm, the not-quite-yet finished rebuilding of the iconic Ventnor Pier, the pretty and grand new library on Atlantic Avenue, which managed to find a design that while pleasing, doesn't really fit many more books than the old building, but has nice dance studios and an underused second floor. The failed redevelopment by eminent domain of the north end of town didn't help either. And don't get me started about the Peebles that finally took over the Bradley's empty box. Theresa Kelly, Steve Weintrob and John Piatt were the favorites of the second-home crowd (every Philly person on my block had their sign on their lawns), but by the end, they had won over enough locals as well. They cleverly took over the marquee of the old Ventnor movie theater _ a symbol of the failed redevelopment _ with their slogan: Enough is Enough. They have promised to make the fishing pier accessible to more than just the fisherman, and the government more efficient and open. Ok, now can someone please revive the movie theater?

As our best blogger pal Jen reminded us below, there's a very entertaining statewide parlor game being played now in connection with a documentary film, North-South Jersey, being made by three young filmmakers, Jersey guy Steven Chernoski and his Philly pals Alena Kruchkova and Andrei Litvinov. A trailer and more info is available here. It's a great idea for a movie, and an amusing game, but I think most of the confusion is on the part of North Jersey people. For instance, the current question of whether Asbury Park is south Jersey. You can debate all you want, but the answer? No. Not even close. It's LBI and below, though I would concede some overlap in various parts of LBI, which I know because my New York cousins sometimes end up in LBI and feel at home. But the movie guys have come up with some excellent criteria to figure it all out: flip flops or stilettos, bennies or shoobies, shape of soft pretzels and the relative abundance or absense of WaWas. Check it out here. Any suggestions of other criteria to distinguish north or south welcome below.

Doesn't look much like beach weather today, but you know it's almost that time again by that old harbinger of summer: The Inquirer's Shore guide. As an added bonus to blog readers, here's an "Ode to Spending Time at the Shore" sent in during the offseason by one of my summer neighbors, the kind of guy who makes where I live seem like a hip suburb of Northern Liberties during certain months of the year. This tribute nicely captures the weirdness of the Jersey shore, where your thoughts can range from awe at the natural beauty to obsession over variances. Thanks for this, see you soon on the block. Come over for a cup of wifi anytime.

Ode to spending time at the shore …

Cruise
Top down, Unload.

Dropping in …
Ventnor pier waves
locals whisper – “he’s going to get hurt (for 25 years plus!)”
Feel, breeze, heat, people, days of old,
argue about zoning,
construction
casino buses pour in …
give the elderly something to do.

Local / out of towners
mixing it up on the streets of Margate …
nice car, who cares Hot Rod,
experience, you know ... the $$$

Miss the friends the years make
forever at a loss
who actually likes us ... tolerates.
Must wait and wait and wait and wait - acceptance
into the club.
as rare as a song bird singing in The City …

Forever the names
and the whispers, oh the whispers … the $$$ …
isolated, remorse, taxed, crowded, shunned …

our door has always been open...

Hey come on, come on, people down south. Have your little spat about whose beaches are better, Virginia Beach or Myrtle Beach (obviously Myrtle), but leave us up here in Jersey out of it. Blog reader Walt Kulik, in the comments section of this blog's last entry, which was a deep and soul-searching ode to the Jersey shore, sends us the words of Virginia Pilot columnist Kerry Dougherty, which were neither deep nor soul searching. Kerry, Kerry, Kerry, why all the hate? In defending Virginia's beaches against an unfortunate advertising attack by Myrtle Beach (chamber of commerce types down south are rough, man), Dougherty rehashes her apparently not-so-great memories of growing up spending summers at the Jersey Shore. Apparently, the water was too cold (Ever try to swim in Maine?). And she can't forget some unfortunate syringe incidents (so 1983, Kerry. Did you ever think that the reason Jersey reports bacteria is because, unlike many other states, we actually test for it?) Ok, so maybe we plead no contest to money-grubbing municipalities and the outrageous tradition of beach tags. And we're like so-so on the whole access thing. But don't smear us with snow-cone stands. We do water ice and Kohr's, here, thank you very much.

Here's my early entry for best summer song, 2008, if only because it contains the excellent lyric, "Music is my beach house." Music is also some other things for this Brazilian group, CSS, which stands for Cansei de Ser Sexy (Brazilian Portugese for Tired of Being Sexy), but not too many of those things other than "my hometown" can be restated here. However, the music video for the song is below for all to enjoy. CSS will bring a shockingly hip quotient to the shore this summer at the House of Blues at the Showboat Casino. This kind of coolness would have been unheard of in Atlantic City a few short years ago, but as anyone who was at the Regina Spektor show at the HOB last week can attest, we're getting spoiled down here.

Today, we at Downashore bring you our interview with Jen A. Miller, shore blogger and author of a new guide book to the (south) Jersey Shore, published as part of the Great Desinations series. Jen answers pressing questions, like best pizza, best beach and, yo, Jen how come LBI is not included?
Here's a picture of Jen.

Here's a picture of Jen's dog:

(And feel free to leave any other questions in the comments section. Jen will reply.)

DOWNASHORE: Hey Jen, congrats on the book. First question about my home turf of Downbeach. Custard's not Mento's? Really? Was this a tough call?

JEN: It was, as was picking which ice cream and pizza shops I'd feature throughout the book. I gained 10 pounds while working on the book to prove I did the research

DOWNASHORE: Can you now definitively say which shore town has the best pizza?

JEN: Well, I can say that my research confirmed Mack & Mancos is my favorite pizza (a decision that had nothing to do with the fact that they were open during the nor'easter last week!) But things like favorite pizza and favorite ice cream can be so personal and are usually tied to memories you have of going down the shore as a kid. So I included as many of those places as I could (and made to leave out those who had pizza that, well, stunk). For example, I really like Kohr Bros. frozen custard, but someone who grew up with Springer's in Stone Harbor would have a problem with that.

DOWNASHORE: Right, it's amazing how many shore memories revolve around food. I thought that was very sweet the way you wrote about your memories of
crabbing and eating crab with your grandfather. My own relatives from New York see a chicken parm and it makes them think of the beach, because of Jo Jo's in Ventnor. I think they think chicken parm is a new species of fish.

JEN: You're right -- not many people would associate "big pasta dinner" with "Jersey shore," but I do because that's what we would do with those crabs we caught: cook 'em up in an Italian feast. I also associate campfires with the shore because of my time spent at Avalon Campground -- again, not a memory to some people, but it is to me. The great thing about doing a Jersey Shore guide with this publisher is that they let me write about those kinds of things. You might not find such personal memories in another series.

DOWNASHORE: Yes, I really liked that in the book. The campgrounds are a part of the Jersey shore many people never see. And also, the trailer parks, especially that one in Strathmere, a trailer park with an ocean view. Only in Jersey? So along the way, did you discover new towns or places that you didn't know about before, or develop any new appreciation for particular places?

JEN: I never knew about Smithville, which is outside of Atlantic City. It's an interesting story -- how two people brought old houses there and arranged them into an outdoor shopping district. I developed a new appreciation for Cape May, which, as I kid, I labeled as "boring." My father was married there last weekend, and I could see my siblings have the same realization that there's a lot of fun things to do where before, if our parents took us to Cape May, we'd whine because we thought Ocean City or Wildwood was more fun (as any kid would probably think).

DOWNASHORE: The Cape May Jazz Festival, which takes place twice a year, is an amazing and under-appreciated happening. It never disappoints. The shore in some ways is such a moving target, businesses come and go. Was it hard to keep up?

JEN: I don't think a lot of people realize what a great jazz scene there is in Cape May -- heck, there's live jazz every Saturday night in the Boiler Room at Congress Hall. And it's GOOD.

It was very hard to keep up. I made changes to the manuscript the day before it went to press because I happened to be in Ocean City and happened to see that a bakery I wrote about had closed. There's a nice big photograph of a shop in Stone Harbor that closed in early 2008, after the book had been printed. There's only so much you can do. That's one of the reasons I started downtheshorewithjen.blogspot.com. It's a way to write about what's happening now.

DOWNASHORE: Given all the hubub about best beach, what's your conclusion? Do you have a favorite? And, more importantly, where did you get the best
coffee?

JEN: Best beach is another one of those personal things, and they're all so different, which is why I'm glad there's different categories in that survey. My favorite beach is in Avalon around 39th street. It's not too crowded with plenty of sand without having too much like you'll find at some spots in Wildwood. I also love Sunset Beach in Cape May for the obvious reason. If you've never watched a sunset there, it's a must do.

Best coffee? Same place I get it at home: Wawa!

DOWNASHORE: I part company with you on Wawa, Jen. I'm partial to the Fourth Street Cafe in Ocean City, even though it's on First Street now. The place in
Sea Isle's good too, Coffee.dot.comedy. Avalon coffee holds its own. So what's next, Jen, north Jersey beaches? And can you settle the whole Long Beach Island, north or south, controversy?

JEN: I can see your point -- Avalon Coffee's got good stuff, too, but I'm a complete Wawa girl!

I'm not sure what's next. I have a few possible book projects in the works, but I'm not sure which one will get the greenlight yet. I've been spending some time at the North Jersey shore, and I like it, but I don't think I have the same drive to do an entire guide book on it because, well, it's a lot of work. The South Jersey Shore is my favorite place in the world, which is one of the reasons why I've been able to read and write and read some more about the area -- not sure if I'd feel the same way above the Atlantic City Expressway.

The LBI question is an excellent one, and it's one I talk about in "New Jersey: The Movie." I consider it North Jersey for a few reasons. One, some people call it a 'poor man's Hamptons.' Two, it's above that Atlantic City Expressway, which I think is what marks North from South Jersey beaches. Historically, people from the Philadelphia area went to towns Atlantic City and south because that's where the rail lines were. Even though most of us drive to the shore (despite $4/gallon gas prices) we still go down instead of across the state. There are a lot more Philadelphia/South Jersey people in LBI now, but I'd still label it central or north.

DOWNASHORE: LBI is ours Jen. Though my New York cousins might disagree. Poor man's Hamptons? To us, it's a rich man's Avalon. Anyway, thanks Jen, and
good luck with the book. We'll see you at the beach.

JEN: Thanks so much Amy! That LBI question is one that comes up ALL THE TIME. Thanks for letting me state my case :-)

In today's Inquirer, I make fun of my life as an unlikely Jersey shore local and attempt to explain a few things to shoobie-land, and on philly.com, people are invited to get annoyed with me. Please feel free.
My little piece may be viewed as a companion to piece to the previously posted Ode to Spending Time at the Shore, written from a down for the weekend perspective by one of my cool Philly nabes.
And if you haven't weighed in on the LBI, Hoagies or Subs, Bennies or Shoobies, South Jersey or North? dispute, please do.
There's also the Virginia Beach versus Myrtle Beach versus Jersey Shore conflagration.
And once again, here's my early pick for a summer song, by Brazilian pop group CSS, although it's been around since late Fall, but that still qualifies it for summer of 08 in my book. Contains the excellent lyric: "Music is my Beach House." But what does that mean?

One species' start of beach season is another's end. Say goodbye, Spot. No dogs on the beach from now on. Don't worry. We'll find some cool parks. We'll drop by Mento's water ice, where Mrs. Mento will give you a treat. And you'll be back splashing and digging in October. Ok, maybe September.

Photo by Akira Suwa/Inquirer Staff Photographer
My colleague Jackie Urgo had a good line about this weekend. She called it "chamber of commerce weather." Was definitely nice enough to get everyone down to the shore and then headed back to Philly at precisely the same time, if the jammed up westbound Atlantic City Expressway around exit 7 Monday afternoon was any guide. Away most of the weekend, we got back in time for a little late afternoon time on the beach, which by then had been abandoned. Was good to get the rusty chair out again. There really isn't a better place to take the pile of Sunday papers you haven't read yet. Ok, it was a little windy and required a sweatshirt. But still, it felt like that time again. (Pay no attention to the temperature of the ocean!) The volume on the streets was its usual seasonal shock, and to the gentleman who got out of his car in the middle of Atlantic Avenue to yell at a driver in another car behind him, a woman from Pennsylvania who to her credit just pretended not to notice, a dangerous and unfortunate spectacle that went on until the man's children shamed him into getting back into the car ("Dad, please!), we say: come on, is that really necessary?

Meanwhile, over in video on Philly.com, hosts Gabby and Catherine bring you their first installment of Down The Shore. First episode: The Beach. Gabby and Catherine head for Ocean City. It's a dry town (mwah!), but that won't stop their fun....Check it out.

Are they kidding? The storied Knife and Fork Inn at the oddly shaped 45-degree angled intersection of Atlantic and Pacific Avenues in Atlantic City is at least as distinctive for its iconic location a block from the Ocean as its Flemish architecture. It's where Burt Lancaster took Susan Sarandon for lunch in the great Louis Malle movie Atlantic City ("...Yeah, you should have seen the Atlantic Ocean in those days...") The restaurant's own website cites its location as part of what makes it as much of a landmark as Lucy the Elephant. Hmm. Lucy had a big old famous move one time too, a few blocks to its current location. Casino developers (who else) planning a new project at Albany Avenue and the Boardwalk want to up and move the Knife & Fork a block away. Knife & Fork owner Frank Doughtery is just glad the developers, who have an option to buy the restaurant in 2009, don't want to just tear it down. But will it be the same at the more prosaic intersection of Hartford and Atlantic? Is there no way to make this iconic landmark a part of the new gateway? City Council gave developers the green light earlier this month. The developers also want to relocate the World War I Monument, which sits in the middle of the Albany Avenue traffic circle and is virtually inaccessible to pedetrians, to a park across the street.

That makes more sense, as the war monument is impressive, if only you could didn't have to cling to it to avoid being hit by a car as you peer inside.
ADDENDUM: The always wise and helpful Dan Heneghan at the Casino Control Commission writes to point out that the monument is not literally "in the middle of a traffic circle." About 15 years ago, streets were aligned to allow one side/arc of it, the inlet side basically, to link up with a little park with benches along Atlantic Avenue.
Dan gives these instructions for visiting:
"You can park along Atlantic Ave, right across from Knife and Fork, stroll through the park, walk right up to the monument, go inside and admire the statue. I've done it. Didn't have to dodge cars at all. Take your kids, as long as you don't mind them seeing a statue of Liberty in the nude. .. I still don't think it's in the middle of a traffic circle. To drive around the monument if you are coming in on Albany Ave., you have to go all the way down to Atlantic Ave. and the Knife and Fork. Turn left on Atlantic and drive up two blocks to Providence and make another left. Then turn left on Capt. O'Donnell Pky to return to Albany Ave. To drive around the monument, you have to drive around a triangular park that's two blocks long."
Still, how many people can honestly say they've stopped off at the World War I monument, or even noticed the thing, on their way to or from, the Hilton?

In one corner of Ocean City, that would be 1st and Asbury, it's a chocolate espresso scone (on the left) from Fourth on First, the old Fourth Street Cafe, if by that you mean the people who cooked the food and ran the place, as opposed to the actual place itself. Yes, the people who went out west to start a vineyard, then inexplicably returned to keep the Fourth Street spirit going. On First Street. The ones who have now spraypainted the old gray volvo station wagon with "Scones" and their new number. The coffee was the reliably unsurpassed La Colombe, the African blend.
And...in the other corner, the old lovely comfy spot at 4th and Atlantic, it's Positively Fourth Street, positively spruced up with new paint and chairs and nice art on the walls, a weird headless surfer mannequin dude whose surfboard holds the half and half. This coffee bar and lunch spot is now run by the people who own the building at 4th and Atlantic, but never ran the restaurant. They were serving a pumpkin pecan scone (below, right), and Harry's coffee, organic from Honduras.
Ok, so this really suggests a deep and soul searching question. What gives a coffee shop its je ne sai quoi? Its ambiance, location and want to stay there for two hours feel (winner and still champ, 4th and Atlantic). Or its unbelievably crunchy on the outside, melt in your mouth on the inside mysteriously amazing scones? For this, you'll have to travel to 1st and Asbury for the authentic 4th Street Cafe touch. The scones at Positively Fourth Street were good and ambitious, but, you know, there was a clear winner.
As for the coffee, I prefer La Colombe (1st and Asbury), but Harry's, which originally was based in Ocean City, is certainly a respectable choice.
I'll let others more qualified than me rate the food (Fourth on First is serving dinner, not yet for Positively Fourth Street), the menus are both reminiscent of the old Fourth Street Cafe (chipotle chicken roasted red pepper quesadilla $6.50 at Fourth on First; pesto skirt stead with bleu cheese, $7.50 at Positively Fourth; both had chicken salad), but I'm still not sure where my allegiances will lie.
The new Fourth on First has a nice patio, but the inside's a little cramped for me, doesn't seem to lend itself to extended slacking. Can I get my coffee at 1st street, skip the scone, and just go for lunch at 4th street? The cabbage and blue cheese soup was pretty tasty the other day, though, like every soup I've ever ordered at 4th and Atlantic under old management and new, it was up to you to add the salt.