The Shore vs. The Beach: They are not the same thing
First things first: You may have noticed this space was blank last week. That’s because I was off – or at least as off as I get these days.
The truth is the technology I do battle with every day kind of makes the notion of being “off” something of a misnomer. It’s increasingly difficult to get away, to unplug. The news – and my everpresent laptop – follows me everywhere.
All this tech wizardry is something of a two-edged sword. The good news is that we can literally put the paper out from anywhere. All we need is power and access to the internet. The bad news is that I can put the paper out from anywhere – and that includes vacation.
And last week that meant – at least for me – a very different place.
I spent the week “down the shore.”
Notice I did not say, “at the beach.”
I assure you there
For most of my life, my idea of the ocean has been Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. I’ve been going there since I was a kid. Growing up in Oxford, we naturally gravitated toward Rehoboth or perhaps family outings in Ocean City, Maryland. And when I say family outings I mean multi-family, driving to the beach in multi-car caravans, praying the cars did not break down or overheat, and possibly stopping along the way for a roadside picnic.
And that is part of the problem. I yearn for the Rehoboth of my youth, that sleepy little summer camp town I remember as a kid. Not so much the over-commercialized, crowded, tourist spot it has become.
My kids never quite believed me when I told them that when I first started going to Rehoboth, Grotto Pizza was little more than a takeout stand.
My daughter is now a devoted Rehoboth-file. It took my wife a is a difference. bit longer to convert. She was a Jersey shore girl. I will never forget the first time I took her to Rehoboth. Remember, these were the days before the Route 1 expressway, when a trip to the beach included getting up close and personal with beautiful, downtown Smyrna, Odessa and lots of other little towns along Route 13. We were approaching Dover when she finally jabbed me in the ribs and wondered, “Where the hell are we going?”
I tried to be diplomatic. “You want the good news or the bad news,” I inquired. “Dover Air Force Base is right up here on the left. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we’re about half way there.”
She was not impressed. She was even more incredulous that we would consider it no big deal to day-trip it to Rehoboth – down and back – in one day.
That is perhaps the biggest difference between Jersey and Delaware, how much closer Jersey is. It’s not the only one.
That’s just one of the things I pondered last week as I headed “down the shore.” In other words, I was embarking on a week to Ventnor, N.J.
I have no idea why, but for some reason Jersey has always been “the shore,” while Delaware is “the beach.”
I assure you they are not the same thing.
Start with the drive. Once you cross the bridge to Jersey you are almost there. I can’t believe how close it is. Hell, it takes me an hour just to make it down Route
202 to I-95 to head south into Delaware (that’s if I don’t take the back way).
The truth is that’s probably the least of the differences in comparing these two starkly contrasting ocean-front locales.
I think I can sum up the difference in one word: Crowded.
Rehoboth is seemingly always packed. In Ventnor, I kept wondering where all the people were.
It starts before you get into town. The Rehoboth of my youth has been overrun by a never-ending string of claptrap on Route
1, which has been converted into one fast-food joint, hotel, strip shopping center after another. And don’t forget the damn outlets. I still remember when the Midway movie theater pretty stood by itself. Now you can hardly see it.
Compare that with Ventnor. There are two major thoroughfares – Ventnor and Atlantic Avenue. There are a few restaurants, but the integrity of the town seems to have remained intact.
The biggest difference might be when you arrive at the beach, or I guess I should say shore.
In Rehoboth, especially in town, you sit shoulder to shoulder in the sand, with every square inch packed, especially on the weekend. You get to share your neighbors’ music – and of course their incessant phone calls.
I could not believe how uncrowded the beach was in Ventnor. Even on Saturday and Sunday, there was a distinctly relaxed vibe to the place.
Then on Monday and through the week, we basically had the beach to ourselves.
I think the difference is that Rehoboth is a tourist town, it caters to people who are renting. Ventnor strikes me as much more residential. This just happens to be where people live, as opposed to being there for the week.
Then there is the Boardwalk. Both towns have them, but again they could not be more different. Rehoboth’s is commercial, all the food, fun, games and T-shirt shops your heart could ever desire. The Boardwalk in Ventnor is the opposite, tranquil, with nary a shop or junk food joint. It ends on end at the Margate line, and does not go commercial on the other end until it stretches into Atlantic City. By the way, I’m not sure who thought it was a good idea to put all those large screens on every pole on the boardwalk in Atlantic City blaring music and ads at you non-stop, but I can assure them it did not work. I could not get back to Ventnor soon enough.
The two towns could not be more different.
Of course, there are a couple of things Rehoboth has that Ventnor does not – namely Grotto Pizza and Thrasher’s French fries.
To me, Grotto and Thrasher’s have always been synonymous with the beach. Yes, I know you can get Grotto down on Route 202. But it never tastes the same to me. Must be the salt air. And I am a longtime Thrasher’s addict. Splashed with a healthy dose of salt and vinegar, there simply isn’t anything better. And yes, I used to shame my kids every summer by snagging a few fries that fell out of our bucket onto the counter. Raise your hand if you did likewise.
I still have no idea why Jersey is “the shore” and Delaware is “the beach,” but I can tell you they are distinctly different worlds.
I think I will continue to enjoy both of them.
Now if I could just lose this laptop. I can’t wait for the day when I toss that damn thing into the ocean.
Or maybe trade it in for a cup of Thrasher’s fries.