Personally, I was glad to see everyone. After an off season of feeling occasionally out of position, driving to Philly, walking the unraked beach, passing the same people at the same time and place on the beach each day, their dogs tangling with my dogs, it was good to see all of Philly showing up at my door.
It was, too, shocking to see the once-ripped-up beach near Newport Avenue in Ventnor where my puppy and I nearly drowned, trapped between the high tide and the eroded sand cliff, suddenly and innocuously filled with sunbathers (at least at low tide). Sand cliff, I knew you when.
Or that house on the corner that's been empty and neglected all winter, suddenly landscaped, rented out and populated by beer-drinking dudes sitting on the front steps, acting like it's where they've been every weekend.
For merchants, especially intrepid ones who bravely and forlornly opened over the winter, like the SoHo-chic Scout boutique clothing store in Ventnor, the weekend was like a blast of oxygen - stylish people with second homes, come on down; your coveted Wildfox American flag T's (featured in Glamour UK) are waiting. Or a time for new frontiers, as with ace sandwich guy Tony Boloney, who, in a very promising Jersey Shore development, parked a food truck on a beach block in Chelsea to great acclaim. Paging Honest Tom's Tacos. Your Shore address is waiting.
As usual, the homeowners responded to the daily invasion with kindness and empathy, immediately moving their cars from their driveways to the streets. Why do we feel the need to create this car buffer by taking good parking spaces? Why can we not be content to park in our driveways? It's complicated.
