Last night on a visit with my sister and my best friend, we got our last taste of summer on the Seaside Heights boardwalk. Many of the stands were closed, but there were still people strolling and enjoying the last gasp of the season.
To me this shot captures the boardwalk perfectly, in all its honky-tonk glory. So as summer's heat gives way to autumn's chill, the boardwalk stands will close.
But there's always next summer, and that's the beauty of the Jersey Shore.
As the last few days of summer slip away, here's my farewell to the beach:
Now that summer is well underway, I'd like to introduce a new feature here at the Rosie G blog: descriptions of my favorite Jersey Shore locales. The first one is a recent discovery, the Main Avenue Galleria in Ocean Grove, NJ:
This charming little storefront gallery is an artists' collective that sells wonderful paintings, photographs, mosaics, jewelry, and a host of other beautiful, one-of-a-kind pieces. I visited the store in March when I was in town for a book signing and got chatting with one of the artists and employees, Christine Rotolo. After admiring her landscapes and beachscapes, I gave her a copy of my book and she presented me with a postcard of one of her paintings:
Wouldn't you love to have a seat in one of those chairs? Christine is just one of the many artists in the collective. You can get a peek at some of the other wonderful work in the Galleria here. (And for those who want to channel their inner Van Gogh, the Galleria also offers art classes.)
The Main Avenue Galleria was a cozy little refuge on a cold spring night--the arts are alive and well here at the Jersey shore!
photo courtesy of Norma, Main Avenue Galleria
image courtesy of Christine Gattuso Rotolo
Beach season hasn't officially started yet (dang it) but I'll be heading to the shore with some fellow New Jersey authors on March 1. It's part of the Girlfriends' Getaway Weekend in charming Ocean Grove, New Jersey, a location that plays a prominent role in Murder and Marinara, and one of my favorite towns along the shore.
If you're in the area, stop by and see us!
Asbury Park holds a place in my heart like no other. Growing up in the 60s in a family of limited means, our "vacation" each summer was a day in Asbury. We started in the morning with a trip to the Monte Carlo pool, with its cheerfully painted Adirondack chairs. We stored our stuff in a locker room that sported a sign with a 40s style bathing beauty in a red swimsuit. After a morning swim, we walked through the cool underground tunnel that led straight to the beach, where we spent the afternoon until it was time for dinner at the Homestead Restaurant.
Sometimes we took a ride in the swan boats on Wesley Lake, but we always ended up on the boardwalk, riding the carousel, eating Kohr's custard and taffy from Criterion, always stopping to sit on the reversible benches--where you could either watch the people or the ocean. I always chose the ocean.
As you can see from the photo, going to Asbury is a tradition in my family, one that started during World War II. Most of the men in the family were away, so my grandmother, my mom and two uncles, as well as a number of assorted great aunts would spend a week in one of the more modest boarding houses. It was a women and children's vacation during the week, and on the weekends, the men who were either too young or too old to serve would come down and visit. After the war, the tradition continued into the early 50s.
On the rides down during our day trips, my mom would tell me stories of Asbury's heyday. My favorite was her description of dances held around the Monte Carlo pool, where a band played out on a floating platform in the middle of the water. It was easy to imagine the ladies in their 40s updos, dancing with their soldier husbands and boyfriends to Big Band music.
But the Monte Carlo pool, like many of Asbury's landmarks, is long gone. My heart broke when the carousel was dismantled, when Convention Hall and the Paramount fell into disrepair, and when the Palace Amusement building was demolished. But after years of economic decline, recent revitalization efforts in Asbury are revealing hopeful glimmers of its glory days (to quote its most famous champion, The Boss). And while Asbury is no longer the dream resort of my youth, it's a place I'll always love--even in all its shabby splendor.
I figure I might as well feed them first. So before any victims bite the dust in my books, at least they get a good meal.
The idea for the Italian Kitchen Mysteries originally came from my agent, who thought an Italian restaurant would make a great setting for a cozy series. I thought if that restaurant were on the boardwalk at the Jersey shore, it could open up all sorts of fun possibilities.
My fictional restaurant, the Casa Lido, is a vintage classic. It’s got a great old bar, wood paneling, and of course, red-checked tablecloths. (I like to think it’s the kind of place Bruce might stop in to on the way home from a gig.) In keeping with the series’ theme, each book will feature a couple of family recipes that figure into the story.
And since the Casa Lido is across from the boardwalk, there are plenty of other food options: great Jersey pizza, sausage and peppers, fresh seafood and homemade lemonade. Not to mention our own Kohr’s custard and salt water taffy. You can just smell it all, can’t you?
So I hope you'll join me as my mysterious journey begins. Murder and Marinara debuts this October, but if you'd like a taste, be sure to check out the excerpt here on the site.
I’m so pleased to be kicking off my Rosie G website today. This gorgeous site was created by Waxcreative Design, Inc. Molte grazie to the fabulous Emily Cotler and Maxamaris Hoppe for bringing my vision to life.
I'm standing in a corner of my local library--where it's warm, safe, and dry--to do a quick post. Below are some pics of my neighborhood, where we actually count ourselves lucky, considering the devastation at my beloved shore. We're without power, but we're unharmed. For that I am grateful. Please keep in your prayers those who were not so lucky, and if you are able, consider helping via the Red Cross. Bless you all!
We like to stretch out the summer as long as possible in my little state, and that includes visits to the shore well into the autumn. I had my last beach day recently when I visited Point Pleasant on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon:
I've been calling my time here at the shore a "retreat." In some ways it is: a retreat from my day job, from my daily routine, and even from my responsibilities back home. (Sorry, guys--you know I love you to death.)
But there's something about a walk along the ocean that puts things in perspective in the most elemental way. One tide comes in, and another goes out in an unchanging cycle; the vastness and permanence of the sea remind us that life is the thing that changes. And we have to change with it. So when I leave here this morning, I leave with several thousand more words, some sand in my shoes, and a renewed appreciation for all that is waiting for me back home. Garden State Parkway, here I come. . . Word count total=715o
♥ ♥ ♥
1
Among the tri-state area
The only perfect thing
Was the shape of New Jersey.
2
I was of two minds:
Love it here
Or hate it.
3
The state holds on to its Colonial dream.
(It's one thing to be proud of, anyway.)
4
A girl and her beach chair are one.
A girl and her beach chair and sunscreen
Are one.
5
I do not know which to prefer
The beauty of Cape May,
Or the beauty of the farmlands.
6
The shadows of New Jersey hover.
Ugly industry. Signs no one can read.
We are more than the Sopranos.
7
O, singing men of New Jersey, rock on.
Rock on Sinatra. Rock on Bon Jovi.
Rock on, O Boss of Bosses everywhere.
Because these two lanes—
Will take us anywhere.
8
I know noble accents.
The north Jersey nasal.
The south Jersey twang.
Do we really sound like that?
9
When the tide rolled out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many waves.
10
At the sight of the ocean,
Bathed in green light
The seagulls cried out sharply.
11
We rode over Connecticut
In a hurry to get home.
Pierced by the fear of Route One
The shadow of mall traffic,
And the trucks—
Oh, the trucks.
12
The Raritan River is moving.
New Jersey must be alive.
13
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing,
And it was going to snow.
And going to snow some more. It's January
in New Jersey.
(with apologies to Wallace Stevens.)
♥ ♥ ♥
All images courtesy of wikimedia commons
