In the aftermath of Sandy, I can’t stop thinking about the Jersey Shore. I grew up in MA and it was not until I met my husband (a Jersey guy) that I had ever been to the state of NJ. Although it took me awhile to come to love my husband’s Jersey high school guy friends, my love affair with the Shore was instantaneous. So much so, that my husband and our two sons now vacation there every summer. What is it about the Jersey Shore that makes me and so many people so nostalgic?
Kevin Coyne captured this incredibly eloquently in a piece he wrote last week for the NY Times:
The difference here (on the Jersey Shore) is that summer dies each year. It is briefer, and thus more precious, and Labor Day is the saddest day of all. That’s why we grasp the Shore so hard, why we hang on to it so fiercely. How much can we squeeze from this wave, from this romance, from this fishing trip, from this bar band, from this sun? How much more before it all chills and fades and we have to wait nine more months to try again? Wondering… how much of what I remember, what I love, will be there next summer.
Here’s to knowing that the Jersey Shore may look a little different, but will always be the Jersey Shore.
