Hermit Crab

It's getting tamer and tamer on the boardwalk in Wildwood. First came the ban last summer on the sale of hermit crabs, a veritable mascot of the Jersey Shore. Next to get cut was the practice of in-line skating on the boardwalk, at least between May and October. Now, don't even try to look for a place to get henna tattoos, the intricate-patterned, dark-brown temporary tattoos that were all the rage of last summer's trendsetters in Wildwood and its island neighbor, North Wildwood.

Party animals of all sorts were cavorting at Ardrossan in Radnor Township Saturday night, all for the benefit of the Morris Animal Refuge. More than a dozen animals such as an African pygmy goat and a Thai pot- bellied pig were petted and admired by the more than 250 guests attending the fund-raising event. The animals belonged to Jeanie Chadwick of Wayne, owner of Mrs. Chadwick's Funny Farm. Making a guest appearance - rolling on his back and nibbling grapes and crackers - was Hamilton, "Ham" to intimates, the pet miniature pig and official party host belonging to Mary Remer of Villanova.

It's Christmas morning. Freshly fallen snow covers the countryside. A fire crackles in the fireplace. The family gathers around the Christmas tree. You're handed a gift. A small one. Very small. "What could it be?" you wonder as you tear away the wrapping. "It's a . . . It's a . . . It's a beach tag," you say, perhaps more in wonderment than appreciation. Yes, beach tags for Christmas. Ocean City - the people who brought you Miss Crustacean pageants, French Fry Sculpting contests, Martin Z. Molusk, the hermit crab and his pal, Gus the Amazing Weather Dog - want the desperately-seeking-a-present crowd to shell out $8 for a 1991 beach tag. Checks or money orders made out to the City of Ocean City can be sent to the Beach Fee Office, City Hall, Ninth Street and Asbury Avenue, Ocean City, N.J. 08226.

There are no liquor licenses in "America's Greatest Family Resort," but visitors are welcome to inhale plenty of salt air and to join in quirky summer fun. Many of these zany ideas were devised by Mark Soifer, the city's longtime public relations chief. It's hard to resist a smile when thinking of one of Soifer's classics, such as the Miss Crustacean beauty pageant or Extreme Hermit Crab Wrestling, both showing off the town's summer mascot, the hermit crab. Soifer also started the TastyKake pie sculpting contests, which obligated participants to use sections of pies to create an artistic masterpiece.

Opening a new restaurant down the Jersey Shore is like building a sand castle. Surviving for several seasons, though, seems to be more akin to becoming a hermit crab. Your dream place, at first, is limited only by the sand tools of your resources and culinary vision. But you don't have long to build it up, to pat it strong and make it striking. Because whether you create a sculpted bayside beauty with martini-bar decks, or just a simple little bistro box, the summer's waves ultimately wash the hungry hordes in with the same thrilling rush, then sweep them away at season's end with the inevitable suddenness of a tidal surge.

Should the ice-cube melt have another day in the sun? Ocean City's public relations director Mark Soifer is making last-minute changes to the schedule for the summer's Weird Contest Week, which begins today. "We want to add an Elvis impersonator event," he says. "You know, who looks most like, who looks least like. So I think the ice-cube melt is going to have to go. "Or, maybe we'll do both. Why not? Shoot the works. " As planned, the "works" this week include an Artistic Pie-Eating Contest, Saltwater Taffy and French-Fry Sculpting Contests, animal imitations, and cartoon-character and celebrity impersonations.

Mark Soifer was saying that what he is, really, is a writer. As he spoke, Martin Z. Mollusk Day was fast approaching - the day that Ocean City's most famous hermit crab marches onto the beach to see his shadow, thus guaranteeing the resort an extra week of summer. And free publicity. But Soifer, who has run the public relations office for Ocean City, N.J., for 17 years, was not talking about that. He was talking about the poetry that he writes and publishes on his own time, and about growing old, and about the significance of imagination.

Lt. Bob Weitman has seen plenty of blood and gore in his 14 years as a Philadelphia police officer. In a past post in the department's crime lab, he photographed and processed hundreds of murder scenes and suspects. Still, the pool of fresh blood he discovered Monday in the parking lot of the 35th Police District at Broad Street and Champlost Avenue chilled him - even though paw prints suggested its source was four-legged. Without hesitation, Weitman followed the bloody prints.

Opening a new restaurant down the Jersey Shore is like building a sand castle. Surviving for several seasons, though, seems to be more akin to becoming a hermit crab. Your dream place, at first, is limited only by the sand tools of your resources and culinary vision. But you don't have long to build it up, to pat it strong and make it striking. Because whether you create a sculpted bayside beauty with martini-bar decks, or just a simple little bistro box, the summer's waves ultimately wash the hungry hordes in with the same thrilling rush, then sweep them away at season's end with the inevitable suddenness of a tidal surge.

The daunting task facing songwriter Alan Menken - charged with creating the score for Disney's "The Little Mermaid" - was to write a song like "Someday My Prince Will Come" in an age when nobody really expects him to show up. "Those old Disney songs are distinctive. They're emotional, unabashedly mushy - and everybody loves them," Menken said. Neither he nor partner, Alan Ashman, was sure how songs like that would play in the 1980s. But they felt they couldn't pass up the job. "The challenge of trying to make one more animated fairy tale in the form of a feature-length movie for Disney, and live up to what has come before, is quite a tall order," Ashman said.

There are no liquor licenses in "America's Greatest Family Resort," but visitors are welcome to inhale plenty of salt air and to join in quirky summer fun. Many of these zany ideas were devised by Mark Soifer, the city's longtime public relations chief. It's hard to resist a smile when thinking of one of Soifer's classics, such as the Miss Crustacean beauty pageant or Extreme Hermit Crab Wrestling, both showing off the town's summer mascot, the hermit crab. Soifer also started the TastyKake pie sculpting contests, which obligated participants to use sections of pies to create an artistic masterpiece.

Opening a new restaurant down the Jersey Shore is like building a sand castle. Surviving for several seasons, though, seems to be more akin to becoming a hermit crab. Your dream place, at first, is limited only by the sand tools of your resources and culinary vision. But you don't have long to build it up, to pat it strong and make it striking. Because whether you create a sculpted bayside beauty with martini-bar decks, or just a simple little bistro box, the summer's waves ultimately wash the hungry hordes in with the same thrilling rush, then sweep them away at season's end with the inevitable suddenness of a tidal surge.

Opening a new restaurant down the Jersey Shore is like building a sand castle. Surviving for several seasons, though, seems to be more akin to becoming a hermit crab. Your dream place, at first, is limited only by the sand tools of your resources and culinary vision. But you don't have long to build it up, to pat it strong and make it striking. Because whether you create a sculpted bayside beauty with martini-bar decks, or just a simple little bistro box, the summer's waves ultimately wash the hungry hordes in with the same thrilling rush, then sweep them away at season's end with the inevitable suddenness of a tidal surge.

It's getting tamer and tamer on the boardwalk in Wildwood. First came the ban last summer on the sale of hermit crabs, a veritable mascot of the Jersey Shore. Next to get cut was the practice of in-line skating on the boardwalk, at least between May and October. Now, don't even try to look for a place to get henna tattoos, the intricate-patterned, dark-brown temporary tattoos that were all the rage of last summer's trendsetters in Wildwood and its island neighbor, North Wildwood.

Lt. Bob Weitman has seen plenty of blood and gore in his 14 years as a Philadelphia police officer. In a past post in the department's crime lab, he photographed and processed hundreds of murder scenes and suspects. Still, the pool of fresh blood he discovered Monday in the parking lot of the 35th Police District at Broad Street and Champlost Avenue chilled him - even though paw prints suggested its source was four-legged. Without hesitation, Weitman followed the bloody prints.

Sparky was about to become a member of the Jones family of Harrisburg. Amy Jones picked him up and plunked him into her terrarium at Hoy's Department Store. Just days before, the terrarium had held a fellow hermit crab named Shiney. And on earlier trips to the Jersey Shore, it had housed Stripey. And Peppy. And Blue. "We figure on at least a crab a year," said Mary Jones, 8-year-old Amy's mother. "We keep falling for the little guys. I guess we just like to have our memories of the wonderful times at the Shore with us, and the hermit crabs serve the purpose.

Should the ice-cube melt have another day in the sun? Ocean City's public relations director Mark Soifer is making last-minute changes to the schedule for the summer's Weird Contest Week, which begins today. "We want to add an Elvis impersonator event," he says. "You know, who looks most like, who looks least like. So I think the ice-cube melt is going to have to go. "Or, maybe we'll do both. Why not? Shoot the works. " As planned, the "works" this week include an Artistic Pie-Eating Contest, Saltwater Taffy and French-Fry Sculpting Contests, animal imitations, and cartoon-character and celebrity impersonations.

Party animals of all sorts were cavorting at Ardrossan in Radnor Township Saturday night, all for the benefit of the Morris Animal Refuge. More than a dozen animals such as an African pygmy goat and a Thai pot- bellied pig were petted and admired by the more than 250 guests attending the fund-raising event. The animals belonged to Jeanie Chadwick of Wayne, owner of Mrs. Chadwick's Funny Farm. Making a guest appearance - rolling on his back and nibbling grapes and crackers - was Hamilton, "Ham" to intimates, the pet miniature pig and official party host belonging to Mary Remer of Villanova.

It's Christmas morning. Freshly fallen snow covers the countryside. A fire crackles in the fireplace. The family gathers around the Christmas tree. You're handed a gift. A small one. Very small. "What could it be?" you wonder as you tear away the wrapping. "It's a . . . It's a . . . It's a beach tag," you say, perhaps more in wonderment than appreciation. Yes, beach tags for Christmas. Ocean City - the people who brought you Miss Crustacean pageants, French Fry Sculpting contests, Martin Z. Molusk, the hermit crab and his pal, Gus the Amazing Weather Dog - want the desperately-seeking-a-present crowd to shell out $8 for a 1991 beach tag. Checks or money orders made out to the City of Ocean City can be sent to the Beach Fee Office, City Hall, Ninth Street and Asbury Avenue, Ocean City, N.J. 08226.

The daunting task facing songwriter Alan Menken - charged with creating the score for Disney's "The Little Mermaid" - was to write a song like "Someday My Prince Will Come" in an age when nobody really expects him to show up. "Those old Disney songs are distinctive. They're emotional, unabashedly mushy - and everybody loves them," Menken said. Neither he nor partner, Alan Ashman, was sure how songs like that would play in the 1980s. But they felt they couldn't pass up the job. "The challenge of trying to make one more animated fairy tale in the form of a feature-length movie for Disney, and live up to what has come before, is quite a tall order," Ashman said.