Even though at 22 I was glad I still had my summer of 1980 and California powers with women, Betty was a lovely compliment to my history. I loved all of our deliciously devilish encounters. She was gorgeous, had a slamming body, and most of all experience. Being a woman of 32 she was different than the girls I’d dated up till then. They kind of didn’t know what to do with or to a man to bring him to a boil. It all came from me. My desire and uncontrollable urges. But Betty was a woman, not a young girl. She knew how to touch and please a man. She had things she could do to enhance and sometimes even slow down the encounter to make it longer and more enjoyable. I realized why her husband had cheated on his first wife to get with Betty. She was a little dynamo in the bedroom. My time in California had changed me from a kid selling cookies in a town full of werewolves, into Lon Chaney himself.
But I loved my new girlfriend and being the gentleman I had come to be, I wanted to take her on some fun dates. I think I loved romance and courtship even better than sex. Sex is an act that celebrates how we feel about each other in a physical union. But romance and courtship take more time and are far more elegant. I know I’m right. Have you ever watched one of those nature shows about the courtship of some birds? The male does a fantastic dance, a show, collects stuff, and makes a shrine to his potential mate. When the female finally gives in and chooses him, it’s over in like a second. I’m like… dude, you did all of that just to get laid? Yes, yes I did, says the bird. Because it’s called romance, son.
I told her about all of my wonderful fun times at the drive-in movie theater in Rio Grande and she wanted to go. She said she’d never been to a drive-in movie and it sounded fun.
So the following weekend we hopped in her BMW and went to the drive-in. We stopped at the liquor store on RT 47 before we went in and I picked up some beer. Always Miller ponies because they were small and stayed colder longer. (You also consumed them a bit faster because they were so small) We found a good spot and parked. I set up the speaker on the driver’s side window and we were good to go. I ran to the snack bar and got us a big bag of popcorn and we were all set.
I’ve always loved movies and I especially loved drive-in movies. You’re in the privacy of your own car, you can talk, drink, smoke, and do whatever else you want in the privacy of your vehicle.
The movies playing that night were Footloose and Indian Jones and the Templeof Doom. a perfect 80s double feature with my best girl.
We were munching our popcorn, sipping cold beer on that warm summer evening and all was right in my world. I liked this part of our relationship. Betty liked to smoke pot so she sparked up a joint. I didn’t smoke back then, because I didn’t like the sudden confusing feeling THC gave me, so I declined. I noticed when Betty was high she’d get a little snippy with me but in an endearing way. She offered some hits to me but I said I was fine with just beer. “You’re always saying no to me, Chaz.” she’d say. I knew that wasn’t true. I was a young buck at my peak of physical prowess but I was sitting next to a woman in her sexual prime.
We enjoyed the movies and acted like a couple of teenagers. Betty said I made her feel like a young girl again. She said she loved the way she felt when she was with me. She missed being a single girl and going out on fun dates. I knew she’d love this. I could see from my actions this was going from more of an illicit adulterous hook-up to a real romance.
It was a lovely night and after the movie, we decided to drive around a bit. We drove out to Cape May and I wanted to show her the concrete ship. It was a famous tourist spot not only known for its cape may diamonds, but a sweet make-out spot.
I remember the road that led out to that place is incredibly straight. I once asked my dad about that, and he told me that a trolley used to run out that way. We were a mile or two away and I asked Betty if she could pull over. We sat in the car and talked for a little bit and then things became a bit more amorous, but then I suddenly pulled away. “Can I drive the rest of the way?”
“Ummm… oh, why not, Chaz.”
We switched seats and I got behind the wheel. I knew the road was deserted at night and straight as an arrow. So when we got to the beginning, I floored it and the BMW responded just like Betty did to my touch.
Betty was giggling and not angry at all. I knew she’d yield to my wishes. It felt great to drive a car with such performance. I’d never had a chance to drive such a car. We reached the coastline in a minute or two and I hit the brakes and parked.
We parked and climbed into the back seat. As she fell into my arms laughing, I realized that I had broken not one, but two of her original rules that evening. I’m sure it never crossed her mind, but it did mine.
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The Wildwood Twin Drive-In owned by Fox theaters of Philadelphia opened on July 28, 1950, as a single-screen drive-in. In 1976 a second screen was added. This drive-in had a capacity of 470 cars.
The Wildwood Twin Drive-In closed after the 1986 season. The original address was Wildwood Boulevard (Route 47) at exit 4A of the Garden State Parkway.
The drive-in theater was the idea of Richard M. Hollingshead who opened the very first drive-in theater in Camden, New Jersey on June 6, 1933. It wouldn’t be until 1950 that Cape May County would have its own drive-in movie theater. Mel Fox, of Fox Theaters from Philadelphia opened the Wildwood Drive-In theater on a 13.5-acre lot on Wildwood Blvd., in Rio Grande. With space for 470 cars, a Simplex X-L projector and a sound system with Simplex in-car speakers, the drive-in was ready for its grand opening, Friday, July 28, 1950, with the showing of “I Wonder Who’s Kissing Her Now.” The box office opened at 7:30 pm with a 60-cent admission per car. Free popcorn was given to everyone on opening night. They ran two shows each night during the week and three shows nightly on weekends. The property was sprayed with DDT every week. Sometimes every night! (Darn mosquitos!)
In the Fall and Winter of 1981, my father taught me how to drive. We would go out each morning and I would practice driving our 1969 Volkswagenminibus. It was a four-speed manual transmission and had a blind spot on the back right quadrant of the vehicle. So it was fun to try to parallel park that sucker. Especially fun was learning how to K-turn the van. Each street had a crown for water drainage in Wildwood, so the vehicle would roll and stall out all the time as I struggled with the gas, clutch, and brake. But in time I figured it out, (with my father’s patience) and soon I could hold the van on a hill and even roll it back and forth on the incline using only the clutch and brake.
I passed my driving test and my dad gave the van to me. You can read all about the history of that family vehicle in the links in the above paragraph.
The Summer came around and I now had possession of the van. One of the first things I wanted to do was take my friends to the drive-in movie out in Rio Grande off the island. I always loved movies and especially horror movies so it was a natural progression for me to want to hang out there.
We’d drive out Rio Grande Avenue which turned into route 47. Delsea Drive as it’s better known. The reason route 47 was called Delsea Drive is that it runs from the Delaware River to the Atlantic Ocean. (Get it? Delaware to the Sea. Del-Sea!) When you passed the bay and the grassy sound and you’d arrive out in Rio Grande on the mainland. There were shops and roadside vendors and even a little mall out there. (It was more like a small enclosed shopping center) There were a few old motels out there and maybe a trailer park or two but what stood out was on the right was a drive-in movie theater.
I had heard of them as a kid and thought it was a cool idea. Just sit in the comfort of your car and watch a movie. You could eat drink and talk and nobody would bother you. When I was a kid I would sometimes see the big screen of a drive in while we passed it at night in the car. I just thought I had to experience that one day. So once I had the van, I was going to make that happen.
We pulled the van off the road and into the entrance through a grove of trees. Sort of like a little tunnel of trees that you had to drive through to get to the box office. The path was littered with broken seashells that crunched under your wheels as you rolled up to buy your tickets. It didn’t cost that much and people were always sneaking their friends inside the trunks of their cars. But we had the van and all they had to do was look inside and see who was in the car. As I said, it was cheap and we didn’t mind paying for whoever was in our crew.
We’d get there at dusk just to get a good spot and hang out a bit. It was cool. the surface of the lot had these humps of dirt built up that you’d pull your vehicle onto just to raise the nose of your car to point the car toward the big screen. You’d pull your car up to one of the speakers that hung on poles that were stuck in the ground all over the lot.
They were these big metal waterproof portable speakers that you unhooked from the pole and then hooked them on the edge of your driver’s side window. It had a volume control on it and that was it. Many of them didn’t work or were badly oxidized from being outside for years. But for the most part, they did their job. You don’t go to the drive-in for a rich film experience and superb audio quality. You go to the drive-in for the fun of it.
A lot of people back then would bring their kids with them. The parents got a night out and didn’t need a babysitter because most of the time the children would pass out and sleep in the backseat of their car or station wagon by the second feature. But for the most part, it was young people and teenagers like us just looking to do something different on a summer night. (You can only have so many nights on the boardwalk and in the nightclubs before you need a break!)
By the time we arrived at this drive-in, it was already 30 years old and its best days were behind it. The screen was a little banged up and so was the old wooden plank fence around the lot. But here’s the cool thing about that. Once night fell, you could walk over to the fence toward Delsea Drive and slip through a hole in the fence behind whatever stores aligned the fence. So we’d go over there and zip through the fence and no one would see us. Once outside the lot, we’d walk about 30 yards to a roadside liquor store and grab a few 8 packs of Miller ponies. We didn’t drink much back then and those mini beers were enough for us, and they were small enough to stay bubbly and cold on the floor of my van. We’d sneak back under the cloak of darkness and have our beer and snacks for the show. I wonder now why we didn’t just buy the beer in Wildwood, hide it in a cooler in the van and then go to the drive-in. Maybe we thought they would check the car and I know there was a “no alcoholic beverage rule” in place at that theater. So maybe that was it. But it was actually more exciting to pull a caper and sneak through the fence and get our beer.
We’d hit the snack bar and try not to get devoured by the hordes of mosquitos that ruled the place at night. I remember keeping a can of OFF behind the seat of the van just for that reason. We’d buy popcorn, nachos, soft pretzels, and whatever other kind of junk food they sold there. We’d load up and head back to the van.
I found this great video of intermission shorts on Youtube. I love how it takes me back to being at that beat-up old drive in theater. The campy voiceover, the crap animation, the photos of the “delicious” food which was terrible and even looks bad in the photos! Such great memories!
Once it was dark, usually just before 8 pm, the first feature would begin. As I said, the place had already been there for 30 years and all they normally showed at that theater during the week was horror movies. Mostly slasher films from the late 70s which were all the rage since the inception of John Carpenter’s Halloween. (I remember one evening we laughed through Bucket of Blood and Demonoid!)
We loved it. Most of the films were bad but made in earnest by the filmmakers. We didn’t care. We’d watch them and eat, sip cold beer, and smoke cigarettes, and were in our teenage glory.
One night I recognized my friend Joe’s (Best bassist on the island) car a few yards ahead of mine. I thought I’d walk over and say hello. I tried to peek in the window, but they were all steamed up. I tapped on the glass and the back window rolled down. Then I saw my pal Joe with his shirt off and beneath him lying on her back was some pretty girl. I quickly backed away from his vehicle and apologized for interrupting his movie experience. (Which neither of them were watching!) So I realized that the drive-in was a cheap, mobile hotel for amorous couples!
One of my most enduring memories of that place was in 1984 when I took my girlfriend Betty Ann to the drive-in. She had never been to a drive-in movie so it was all new fun to her. We pulled up in her blue BMW 5 series and had a grand old time. We drank beer, smoked pot and saw Footloose and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, which was a fantastic night. She loved it and I found out first hand that the windows really do steam up pretty quickly! (I’ll be covering the full Betty Ann saga in a series this fall, so stay tuned!)
Once a group of us went to the drive-in and I pulled the van up on the hill sideways. I opened the sliding door on the right side and the passenger door next to me. I passed around the can of OFF spray and everybody grabbed a beach chair I had brought and sat outside the van. I went over to the two speaker poles that were at each end of the car and left them on their poles and just cranked up the volume on each one. So we had four speakers going. We all camped outside around the van and could hear the show. They played the film Purple Rain and everybody went wild over that. It was a spectacular night of music and laughter. (After that, who didn’t want to cleanse their soul with Appolonia Kotero in the waters of Lake Minnetonka?)
Years later they tore it down and put up a shopping center and if you went out there now you’d never know the place ever existed. The advent of home video rentals killed the drive-in movies.
It now lives only in my memories.
I’d love to hear your comments on what your experiences were at this amazing place!
Check out my new book, LAWNDALE on Amazon. It’s packed with stories from my youth growing up in Northeast Philadelphia!
My next book,DOWN THE SHORE,a collection of stories from my summers in Wildwood in the 70s will be released inMay of 2023!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.
James and I have been friends for over 10 years. I met him one night with my then-girlfriend Michelle at a fashion show at the 23rd Street Armory. He worked for a local talent agency as a talent coordinator. We both loved movies and film in general and kept in touch on social media.
Then he went off to LA for a few years and I rarely spoke to him. But he came back a few years ago and we re-connected.
James has been a great friend and we’ve had some great times together. We both have busy schedules, but we hang out together at least once a month.
Recently, James broke up with his girlfriend of 7 years. He’s now 34 and has been out of the dating game for years. A lot has changed but some things stay the same. I’ve helped him with his online dating apps and offered whatever advice on navigating the treacherous waters of the dating world. He’s been doing well and going on lots of dates.
But like my friend Duncan, who after his divorce wanted to go to a gentleman’s club to blow off some steam, James was ready to do the same.
I wasn’t too keen on the idea because I associate those kinds of places with losers who can’t talk to women in the real world, cheaters, and unhappy married guys.
But he had never been to the supposed “best one in Philly” so he wanted toexDrive-In-girlfriend long-tim6 pm, every day go one night. I reluctantly agreed. I didn’t know exactly when we were supposed to do it, but I knew it was looming on the horizon.
We were supposed to hang out on Wednesday but I had to postpone because I was buried in commercial writing assignments. But the next week cleared and we locked down the next Wednesday to go out.
When the day arrived, James texted me to confirm and we were a go. But in his text he suggested I come to his house, and then we’d jump in a Lyft and head out for the night.
This never happens. He usually drives down into center city or takes a Lyft down here and we go out. This was a first. So I knew it had to mean one of two things.
He wants me to come to his house so I can see how he’s fixed it up and redecorated since the exit of his girlfriend. Then make be a few delicious, potent cocktails to get a base coat on and save money. Then, we both hop in a Lyft and return to center city-girlfriend long-time reading Jamereading James6 pm, every day reading JamesDrive-In for a night of fun, frolic, and frivolity. OR…
He wants me to come to his house, ply me with lethal cocktails and coerce me to go to the local gentleman’s club with him to see a bunch of strippers.
It was the latter.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. I had finished my last big writing assignment the day before so it was my first day off in over 3 weeks. I went to breakfast at Rachael’s Noshery and then went for a nice long walk to get some exercise.
5.6 miles later I came home and chilled out for an hour. I then proceeded to write about Lin and a few other subjects. You’d think after writing non-stop for 3 weeks I wouldn’t want to touch my keyboard. But it just felt good to write about things I wanted to write about. My blog!
We were set to hang out at 7 pm that night so I wrote for about 5 hours and knocked off around 6 pm. I had been to his house before so I knew just how to get there using public transportation. It was a nice mild day, and I gave myself plenty of time like I always do. My dad always taught me to leave early to avoid any unforeseen delays and I’ll always arrive relaxed at my destination.
So, I left my house and headed over to Broad Street. I walked up to Locust Street because I knew there was a train station there on the corner. I walked down the steps to the station, swiped my key card, and headed down to the platform. There was a train sitting there and I happily hopped in. Just to be sure, I asked someone on the train if this train stopped at Huntingdon and they said it was a local express train. So, it wouldn’t. They then told me to get off that train and wait for the regular one that comes on the track just on the other side of the platform. I thanked them and stepped off the train and waited on the platform.
Within minutes, the other train arrived. I hopped on and off I went. After a while, I was wondering when the train would come up out of the subway and become the elevated line. It seemed to be taking a long time. I looked out the window and saw that the train had stopped at the Fern Rock Station.
Where the heck was I? Had I missed my stop? What’s going on?
I asked another passenger and she tried to explain. The train was noisy and she struggled with her English and she was wearing a mask.
Thinking quickly, I exited the train to get my bearings. It was only 6:30 at this point so there was plenty of time to make any necessary adjustments.
I walked over to the ticket office and spoke with the nice lady working inside it behind the bulletproof glass. I couldn’t hear a word she was saying so she stuck her head out the door.
“Hi. I’ve lived in Philly for over 12 years and I think I got on the wrong train.”
“Where are you trying to go?”
“Huntingdon stop in south Kensington.”
“Oh… you’re way off.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re way far up into North Philly right now.”
“Oh. Can I just go upstairs and call a Lyft and leave from there?”
“Ain’t no Lyft coming to this part of town, honey.”
“Really? Why not?”
“It’s pretty busy up there.”
“Busy?”
(Looks me up and down) “You shouldn’t go up there. It’s not a good kind of busy up there.”
“Ohhh… What do you recommend?”
“Go down that flight of stairs over there and get back on the southbound train. You were on the Broad Street Line. You need to take the train south down to 8th and Market and switch to the Blue Line and then go north to Kensington. You’re way west of anywhere you want to be right now and you do not want to go upstairs into that part of town.”
“Okay. Got it. Thank you!”
I scamper down the steps and wait for the southbound Broad Street Line train. What was I thinking…. or not thinking? I’ve lived in Philly for over a decade. I know where everything is and I’m an authority on public transit. Am I getting dotty in my old age? Has senility finally come to call?
No. I just had a brain fart and got on the wrong northbound train. I need to fix this, but I’m not going back to 8th and Market.
The train arrives and I’m the only caucasian on that train. I’m the minority and look a bit out of place, to say the least. I’m a little nervous but it’s 6:30, still light out and there are plenty of people around. I hatch my escape plan as the train roars south.
I’m listening to Rockbar on Sirius radio on my earbuds and it was almost a joke when the next song comes on. It’s Welcome to the Jungle by Gun’s ‘n Roses. Just as the train pulls into the Cecil B. Demille stop I hear Axl Rose scream into my ears…”Do you know where you are? You’re in the jungle, baby… You’re gonna DIE!!!!”
Oh, the cruel, yet the hilarious irony of this journey.
I hop off the train because I know this stop is the one above Girard Avenue and based on my geographic skills I figure I’m just slightly northwest of my destination. I climb the stairs and come out on the sunny sidewalk. Again, I am the minority and feel the weight of how out of place I am at this moment.
I call a Lyft and wait alone on the corner of Cecil B. Demille and Broad to wait for it.
Tune in tomorrow for Part 2 of this little saga…
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So you went out on a first date with the woman you’ve been crushing on, and you thought she was absolutely amazing.
She’s the hottest, sexiest woman you’ve met, and you definitely want to see her again — a lot — but you’re not totally confident you know how to get a girl to like you, let alone get her to be your girlfriend.
How can you successfully ask her out on a second date and capitalize on the heels of that great first one?
If you want to know how to get her to like you, here are my 10 best during and after the first date tips for men that are (almost) guaranteed to get you that second date:
1. Ask her out at the end of the first date for a second date.
When asking her out at the end of the date, be sure to ask her to do something she told you during the date she finds exciting.
For example, if she likes Mexican food, tell her you know the best Mexican restaurant in town and you want to bring her there Tuesday night. Set that second date up so she doesn’t have time to think about the first date, and so she has something to look forward to.
2. Text or call her the very next day.
Either text her a simple message that says “Had a great time last night … Looking forward to the next time.” Or, call her and leave a message and tell her the same thing over the phone. Don’t try to be coy by waiting a day or two to follow up.
3. Don’t expect sex or force the issue of sex.
Take things slow and enjoy getting to know each other. There are no rules about when to have sex for the first time with a new potential partner.
You’re both adults, and if a woman decides that she doesn’t want to have sex with you for a month, respect her! Or, if a woman decides she wants to have sex with you on the first date, respect that decision, too!
When you do have sex, make sure that the two of you handle it like adults and not like children.
4. Be positive and fun when you’re out with her.
Don’t bash your exes. Don’t complain about all the things that are wrong in your life.
Spend time getting to know each other’s good sides.
5. Listen to her.
Question things that don’t sound right. Have a two-sided conversation instead of talking at her.
Most men tend to want to impress women based on their accomplishments. Women enjoy getting to know a man based on what’s inside. So spend time listening and having a conversation instead of bragging about yourself. The less you brag, the more interested she will be!
6. Don’t check out other women in front of her.
Do this, and you’ll never get another date with her again.
7. Compliment her once about the way she looks.
Don’t tell her all night long how beautiful she is or she may start to think that you’ve never before been out with a woman as beautiful as her, and you’ll start to lose your intrigue.
8. Instead of complimenting her looks, compliment her mind.
Bond with her mentally and emotionally and physically, and she will bond with you in ways that you’ve never experienced before!
9. Don’t agree with everything she says.
Challenge her mind — don’t just agree with her.
If you agree with everything she says, she’ll look at you as being weak. If she sees you as being weak, she will no longer be attracted to you and you will no longer get a second look or a second date.
I’m not telling you to be confrontational. I’m telling you to be open, honest, and real.
10. Once you’ve secured the second date, and the second date is successful, set up an “activity date” for date number three.
Take her to the park, go to the beach, or take your dogs for a long walk.
Do things that cause her to picture the two of you as a couple. Dates should be creative, not boring. Sitting there and swapping stories over dinner tends to get monotonous after date number one, so start creatively planning different dates so the two of you can start to get to know each other in a very different manner.
Follow these tips, and I assure you that you will get to see her again after that first date far more than you have in the past.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Sadly, at the seashore Autumn approaches. It comes slowly. The sky and the sun look and feel differently. Fewer people are around. It gets to a point where the pier is only open on the weekends in September before it closes for good.
But you’re not going back to your friends at home or at your school in Philly. You’ve finished high school and now live in Wildwood. What was once the most exciting place on Earth has now become a desolate wasteland.
It was as if it was all a dream. But all dreams end and you have to wake up to the reality of life living in a resort town in the winter.
It’s awful.
But Hunt’s liked me and let me work as an Usher in one of the few movie theaters still open in town. Like my father, before me, I would tear tickets in half and show people to their seats in a movie theater.
It was depressing to fall from such a height. The summer sun, now gone. My wings have melted and I hit the hard sand with a thud.
It wasn’t so bad. I saw the movie Dressed to Kill half a dozen times and really became a fan of Brian Depalma and John Lithgow.
Once that was over and the theater closed for the season they offered me a job working maintenance on the pier. I joined the ranks of all of the other flunkies working odd labor jobs on the pier. A far cry from my supernatural existence the month before.
But I learned a few things. Work needed to be done on the Log Flume, and it was 60 feet in the air. The water had obviously been drained from it and it needed to be cleaned, painted, and winterized for the coming winter. Initially, I was terrified to climb the ramp up to the top of the ride. But there were other guys there and I couldn’t look like a scaredy-cat, so up I went. When I was inside the actual tube area of the ride, the sides were high so you couldn’t really see how high off the ground you were. The pier is thirty feet off the beach so you’re almost 100 feet in the air. But after spending a few days up there I was not only comfortable with the height, I was literally running along the little walkway that ran around the perimeter of the ride. That’s a series of metal posts about ten feet apartment strung together by a two-inch-thick rope. The walkway is literally a catwalk made up of three boards. It’s only about 2 and a half feet away. I could run along it on the edge of the ride without fear. Funny what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it. I learned nothing is ever as bad as you imagine. As long as you don’t let the fear in.
There was this one guy who had worked at one of the games of chance at the front of the pier named Mike. He was a heavyset guy from South Philly and one of the funniest people I’d ever met. He and I became friends and even though he seemed like a tough guy, it was all an act. I noticed he was too afraid to go up on top of the log flume. But he and I became friends and I used to give him rides to work. He lived in an apartment with another guy back on Park Blvd. I would pick him up in my VWminibus and it would be cold out. The windows would be rolled up and he would release what I would describe as a Milwaulkee Beer Fart. A silent but deadly emission that was so bad I thought I’d die. He said it was from drinking a bunch of PBRs and eating Chinese food while he watched kung fu movies at night. It was awful, but I liked him because he was a delight to be around. A big ego and personality full of false confidence.
He was supposed to go to California with me to become an actor but it turned out to be all a bunch of careless talk over beers because he hadn’t saved any money. So once the reality of me actually leaving wildwood and going out there, he found some excuse to not hang out with me out of shame. Mike turned out to be what my father called a feather merchant. I think he thought he’d attach himself to me and I’d end up paying for everything. Not happening. Sadly, that would happen to me in the future. People would enter my life and I would love them. They’d bask in the warmth of my sunlight until the money was gone then fade away.
Some memorable things from that time were, once we were cleaning out some old furniture and detritus from the Strand Movie theater and opened a rusted old door and found a hand-carved deer and a sea horse from an old Philadelphia Toboggan Company merry go round. I don’t know if they were from the old classic down on Marine West/Nickels pier but we knew they were rare and original. They weighed a ton so we alerted the manager and he was surprised. I never heard anything about those pieces but I’m sure they were sold for quite a bit of money to a collector somewhere.
Once I was sent to a big warehouse that was underneath the Shore movie theater to get some supplies. I pulled up on the battery car and parked it outside. I unlocked the big wooden door and went inside. It was pitch black inside and I felt the wall for the switch. I found it and flicked it on. The area was suddenly filled with bright light.
Standing before me was a beautiful naked woman.
I was startled by the sight and jumped backward at the sight of this Venus.
But she wasn’t real. She was the animatronic girl prisoner from the dungeon in the Pirate Ship. This motorized beauty had been a prisoner of the ride for over 30 plus years by then. She had been removed from the ride to be painted. I knew the main painter for Hunts. He had done a marvelous job making her beautiful again. Her blonde hair and blue eyes shone brightly in non-life. It wasn’t that there was an anatomically correct life-sized naked lady standing before me in the dead of winter in a warehouse. It was that it was HER. I always loved her from when I was a boy walking through the pirate ship. There she was, her dress torn to rags, her bosom heaving through her ragged clothes. I didn’t even realize it as a little kid but there was something erotic about her. Chained to the wall in the corner. A damsel in distress and all she did was breathe.
But now, here she was completely naked before me and freshly painted. It was as if after all I’d been through on the pier and in the last year she suddenly appeared to me like an angel to say: “Remember me? You always secretly loved me. Well, here I am. Look at me. Because you won’t ever see me again, Chaz.”
And I wouldn’t. Like the rest of the team, we all went on unemployment for the colder months of winter. I made the best of the winters in Wildwood but knew that the sunny beaches of Santa Monica and the bright lights filled with unbridled adult fun were waiting for me in California.
By then it wasn’t so much of starting over in LA and becoming a metal god of rock. It was just more about getting out of this sad, dead town and off this island that only came to life in the summer. It was a terribly depressing place to be in the winter as a teenager. The island was filled with rich kids, drug addicts, and teen pregnancy all rising out of boredom and complacency. Wildwood is a wonderful place to be in the summer as a kid, but the winters are long and cold and it’s nowhere to be for a young person growing up.
Video Thanks to Ralph Grassi
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One night we were all working. It was early, maybe 6 pm. Each shift was from 5 pm until 11 pm when the pier closed. As one of the cars came in full of people and they exited the ride, someone left a camera on the ride. Danny brought it to me, and I remembered the guy and his family. I was like, “Wait…there he is over there with his wife and kids. I’ll run over and give him back his camera.” But then an idea came to mind. I went over to Louie and told him what was up and handed him the camera. He gathered the whole staff together on the platform and took a photo of all of us guys with the man’s lost camera. He handed it back to me and I ran down the ramp and tapped the man on the shoulder. “You left this on the ride, sir.” The gentleman was very grateful and relieved.
It was one of those jokes you do where you’ll never see the outcome, but you know when he gets home from vacation and gets his photos developed, he’ll find a mysterious photo of the whole Golden Nuggetteam among his pictures! Great idea, right?
When the pier closed at 11 pm, they always put up a big wooden fence to close off the area. There were guards and dogs always present at night to protect their assets. But the fence was in large sections and each piece was really heavy. After working all night on our feet and taking care of thousands of tourists, the last thing we wanted to do was carry big sections of fence and set it all up each night. So all the flunkies (as Louie called them) who worked all the rides up at the front of the pier were the first ones called upon to help put up the fence. We at the Nugget and the Log Flume would take our good old time closing our rides and walking up to the front of the pier to help. I can honestly say I have maybe only helped with one small section of fence on only three occasions. We were the elite weasels on that pier.
One of the amazing benefits of working for the Hunt’s Corporation was that they also owned every movie theater on the island. So as a perk for being an employee, each Saturday night at midnight, they would have a private screening of one of the latest movies playing in the theaters.
It was awesome. You’d finish your shift at 11 pm, and then had an hour to get something to eat, hit the liquor store to buy some beer, and then head over to one of the theaters and watch a movie with your coworkers. It was glorious. The cool thing was, you could bring a guest. So I could bring my buddy Wolfie with me and we could check out a cool new movie for free. (And drink beer!) But most of the time if one of the guys and I had met some girls that night on the ride, we’d take them to the movies with us. That was fantastic. Free movie with a new girl. Unless it was something we didn’t want to see, we would go every week all summer long. (Even back then, 40 years ago I was providing the hookup to the ladies in my life!)
Seeing The Empire Strikes Back in an empty theater with just my buddies with me was an unforgettable experience. The film as we all know was a long-awaited blockbuster and seeing it for free for the first time was amazing. I remember taking my buddy Wolfie with me to see the film, Airplane! And at the time it was the funniest film I had ever seen. It’s still in my top five of the funniest most creative and madcap movies I’ve ever seen. The Cannonball Run also comes to mind as one of the more memorable films we saw that summer. Just great times!
I even got my friend Pitchy a job up on Hunt’s working at the Log Flume. He was my summertime best friend who lived around the corner from my house. He and I had been friends since the early ’70s and had a rich history of summers together. He had worked as a stock boy at a local grocery store at 9th and Ocean avenue and was looking to do something different for the summer. I got him a job on the pier. He liked working on the flume and got along with all of the guys over there. One night he started chatting up a really cute little Italian girl from South Philly and later made a date with her. A few years later they kept in touch and he eventually married her and they have three great grown kids now. Met his wife on the Log Flume!
I remember it was the 4th of July weekend which is an enormous time at the shore. The island is packed with tourists and the boardwalk is mobbed every night. I went on my break and walked over to the snack bar across from our ride and got a soft pretzel and a fountain coke. I went back to the Nugget and went in the back and up the fire escape to the top floor of the ride. The ride was obviously going non-stop so you had to be careful up there navigating the tracks so you didn’t get run over and killed by the ride. On the roof, (you’ll see in some of the attached videos) had several dead man’s gulch attractions on it. Tombstones, skeletons, prospectors, etc. There actually was a replica of a gallows up there. I climbed the rickety wooden ladder up to the top of it and had a seat at the hangman’s pole.
There it is. Three stories above the boardwalk. 100 feet up from the beach.
The mine cars full of tourists would actually pass under it. So, I parked myself up there and munched my pretzel, and sipped my soda. The view was incredible and I suddenly felt an incredible level of exhilaration sitting up there. Here I was on the roof of a three-story dark ride I once rode terrified with my father and sisters. I lit a cigarette and looked out at the entire sea of people below me. The pier was packed with people, and that flowed out onto the boardwalk that was in full swing. Amusement rides going, people screaming, laughing, and filled with joy. Happy to be at the seashore and away from the heat of the city and work. They were all on vacation and having the times of their lives here in Wildwood.
The smell of french fries, caramel popcorn, funnel cake, cotton candy, and pizza filled the air. The sights and sounds of summer. I sat under the stars and watched as fireworks exploded in the sky in the distance.
I knew in this perfect moment that I was in the most pristine place in my life. I sat atop my castle as the self-proclaimed King of Wildwood. Finished with high school, tan, fit, clear skin, healthy, and immaculate. My painful past barely visible now. I had game and could talk to girls and they liked me enough to date and kiss me. I was in a rock and roll band, and didn’t have to be anywhere I didn’t want to be. The island and this ride were mine.
But I could feel as I finished my cigarette I wouldn’t come up here again.
This moment would vanish and never return.
Like a child’s balloon that had escaped their grasp. You watch as it rises higher and higher into the night sky. But you’ll never get it back.
All you can do is make a wish…
The sax solo in this song (4:00 minute mark) by the late, great, Clarence Clemmons, and Bruce’s howl at the end of the song is about as close as I can get to what my heart felt like on any given summer night in Wildwood.
But, even as I write these words, I feel I just can’t do justice to those summers at the seashore.
You had to be there.
I’ve lived and worked in many places throughout my life. But I still say to this day, working at Hunt’s Pier on the Golden Nugget Mine Ride was The Greatest Job I Ever Had.
This is sort of what it sounded like to be on the boardwalk in Wildwood.
Here are a link and some videos I found to give you an idea of what the Golden Nugget Mine Ride was like:
After the success of my first work of fiction, Angel with a Broken Wing, I knew I wanted to do another book.
But, I wanted to do something different. I started writing the first draft for Below the Wheel. My first book was about a man running away from his life. He was miserable in his job and wanted to hit the road and be gone. I always loved the idea of writing a road story. I’ve driven across the United States so I understood the subject and the lay of the land.
Below the Wheel is a story about friends and relationships. Two guys who worked together for years and grew tired of the rat race. They open a detective agency in Camden, New Jersey, and the story goes from there.
I write from my heart and my gut. The first draft of Below the Wheel was a brutal piece of work. Laced with graphic sex and violence, and peppered with profanity. When I let an agent read it, she liked it but couldn’t take the violence and filth. It was just over the top. I learned from crafting Angel with a Broken Wing, that less is more. Rather than lay it all out there for the reader, I decided to take a different approach. Clean it up a bit. Let the reader picture what’s happening in the scene using their imagination. They’ll get it. You can say it without actually saying it or showing it. I’ve learned a lot from writing this book, but more from editing it.
Like Angel with a Broken Wing, I added a new chapter during the editing process. I always like to leave things a little open for the chance of a sequel. But, I felt like this book needed a little more resolution than I originally gave it. So, I added a nice twist to the story. It also fixed something I never felt completely satisfied with. I feel better about the story and the fate of the characters now. When you write you have to look after your characters. They belong to you. I’d like to someday write a follow-up to this book.
Where did the title come from? That’s a secret. If we meet in person I’ll reveal that to you.
The Admiral Wilson Boulevard. You can read about it here:
It’s an interesting bit of history, but its portrayal in my book is accurate. In the 80s and 90s, it was a grey serpent littered with drug addicts, hookers, and vice. They only cleaned it up when the Democratic Convention came to town sometime after that. It’s all different now. Gone are the strip joints, short-stay- fleabag motels, and human detritus.
Alex Hunter: Like Christian Blackmore from Angel with a Broken Wing, they’re completely made up. I think writers sometimes base their main characters on themselves. I think that was the case here, but we always change things and add things that make them more interesting. I did quit smoking back in the 90s when my daughter was born. I didn’t want to be around my baby smelling like cigarettes. That sweet little head that smells like heaven. I just didn’t want to be the stinky smoky dad around her. I also thought of the health aspects that come from smoking cigarettes. I did use a nicotine patch to get me off the ciggies and it worked. It was rough going though. I’d get stressed back then or be fighting with my then-wife and really want a cigarette. So, I could relate to what Alex was going through in this story.
Alex also has a problem with alcohol. I like interesting characters with feet of clay. I always have. The underdog wants to do the right thing and save the world but struggles with himself. That’s why Batman is more popular than Superman. Batman’s parents were murdered right in front of him as a child. He’s got issues. But Superman was born Superman. He actually has to act like a wimp and a coward to fit in with us mortals. I like the imperfections in a character. It gives them life and relatability to the reader. Who wants to root for Joe Got-It-All? He’s probably a bore. I would much prefer to cheer for the underdog. The failure. The guy who has moments of greatness and yet somehow is undone by his own vices and devices. It just seems more real.
I hardly ever drink anymore. I just became bored with it. After so many years, it just didn’t make sense anymore. Why would I want to stand in a bar with a bunch of drunks? Why would I want to fry my liver and wreck my health? Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy the occasional well-made Manhattan, but it’s just not interesting to me anymore. I certainly don’t need it to write like some authors. A clear mind will always prevail. But Alex still loves the bottle and struggles with it all the while trying to be a better person.
Scott Appel: He’s based on my real-life friend, Scott. I know most writers change the names of characters based on real people, but Scott’s my friend. We’ve been pals for over 20 years. When I told him the theme for this book he was enthusiastic about being in it with me. So we changed his last name and he came up with it himself. It didn’t mean much to me so I left it in. Why not write about what you know? It’ll make the characters more real. The banter back and forth between Alex and Scott is how we actually speak to each other. It’s all fun ribbing and slagging. That’s what friends do. Besides, Scott won’t sue me for using his name in my book. I’ve got too much dirt on him anyway!
Genevieve Bouchard: She’s the insurance agent with whom the boys share an office in Camden. This character is based on an actual girl I knew back in the 90s who sold insurance for a living. She was my agent for years. I didn’t know much about her, but she looked like the character in the book. Even though I was married back then, I always liked her. She just seemed like a cool, nice person who was down to Earth. She did have a common-law husband though. They never married and he did run a contracting business. But the Bruno Cartiglio character is completely made up. I never met her significant other. I just created him based on the biker types I’ve met in my life. He’s just a bad egg.
Dr. Ignatious Feeny: The coroner is based on a customer I knew back when I worked for First Union Bank back in the 90s. He looked like Iggy in real life. Right down to the teeth. He was an odd character. A little touched in the head. My father always taught me to treat everyone fairly. I had good customers and bad ones. But they all had money in my branch and deserved respect. This guy would always ask me if he could use the phone in my office. I let him because he told me his neighbors were listening in on his conversations. He was obviously nuts but a harmless person. Just because someone is different or weird doesn’t mean they don’t deserve respect. You’d be surprised how well people respond with a little kindness. So he gets to be the brilliant but weird coroner in my book!
Ezra Chambers: The Police Luitenant was completely made up. I just pictured Morgan Freeman in the role and he was born!
Otis Guth: I based him on this fat, slovenly guy I once worked with at a record store in the early 90s. He wasn’t like Otis Guth at all. But when I think of the character in my mind I see that guy. Just hard to look at and listen to. Otis’s history is all made up except for the bit about him pursuing the kids who stole the car. That happened to a police officer friend of mine.
Alyssa Ward: She’s completely from my imagination as well. But when I think about the character, I probably was inspired by the lovely Alycia Lane the former co-anchor at KYW-TV in Philadelphia. Google her, and you’ll see what Alyssa Ward looks like in my book. Quite the babe!
Robert Wick: He’s based on a manager I had when I worked at Security Financial Services in the mid-90s. He was a gruff hard-ass but I loved him. He was great at his job and a fair manager. I would put him in the top 3 of the best men I’ve ever worked with. He wasn’t as mean or as foul-mouthed as my character, but he had that same swaggering confidence. A brilliant guy.
Karen Moore: This poor thing was based on several drug-addled prostitutes and strippers I’ve met in my life.
Her daughter Luna, is completely made up. I just wanted to create a truly good and innocent person in this story. A victim of circumstances not of her own making. A good kid, who had great potential but had just been dealt a bad hand in the game of life. The only rose to grow in a garden filled with thorns and spent hypodermic needles.
Pastor Victor Dorath: I was once in love with a girl named Linda Bradley back in the 80s. She was from Philly and I lived in Wildwood at the time. I met her on the beach and was smitten. But I hardly ever saw her. She was a straight-A student and somewhat religious. I actually went to see a pastor in Cape May, NJ for counseling. I know it seems nuts now that I think back on it, but I just needed someone to talk to about my feelings. I based this character on that gentleman. He was really sweet and a kind ear at the time.
Darren Cain: He’s based on a manager I once worked for back in my Midlantic Bank days in the 80s. He had appeared one day from New York and seemed to have an evil streak to him. No one liked him because he was so intense. But he liked me, and I think he probably had a thing for me. (He was gay) When I think of Darren Cain I see Pete Rallo. A crazy, misunderstood guy that was drunk with power. Oh, he later died from AIDS.
Lisa Devlin: (A minor character but worth mentioning) She’s based on a girl I knew who actually did work at Gloucester County College. I was taking some night courses there back in the 90s when I was married. (Like Christian Blackmore in Angel with a Broken Wing!) My then-wife thought I should finish my education. (Her family was extremely collegiate) Lisa was this nice girl that helped me navigate my classes and credits. I ended up hanging out with her a few times at a bar called Rock Lobster that used to be on Deleware Avenue in Philly.
Did I leave anybody out? I think that’s it.
I hope you like reading Below the Wheel as much as I did writing it. I think my next book of fiction may be something different again. I was thinking maybe a music story about a kid who rises in the music business in early 80s Los Angeles.
I still would like to release a collection of stories from my youth in Philadelphia, and Wildwood, NJ. But we’ll see.
You can get it here on Kindle and Paperback:
This song is dedicated to my sister Jane.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
You’ve had date night on your Google Calendar for over three weeks, and you still haven’t figured out what you and your boo are going to do. You can’t watch another bad movie. You simply can’t eat takeout anymore. You’re ready to put on your sexy pants and paint the town with your flame. Of course, you need to find out what the heck is on the agenda first. If hindsight is 20/20, perhaps the year 2020 will be full of good ideas, wisdom, and learning from the past. In fact, these date ideas to try in 2020 will bring the excitement and the fun back to date night.
From dressing up like it’s 2002 and hitting up your childhood hotspots (Rainforest Cafe, ILY) to drinking some wine and getting crafty, there are tons of creative date ideas out there. Whether you turn off your phones and explore the city with disposable cameras or start a monthly movie club together to share your favorite flicks, getting out of your date comfort zone this 2020 is sure to be a 10/10 experience.
And if you’re looking to add some zest to your relationship, here are 10 date ideas for 2020 that are out of this world.
Shutterstock
1. Print Out Your Fave Pics & Make A Scrapbook
Go to a CVS or a RiteAid with a photo center, then print out your favorite pictures of you and your boo. Fashion them into a scrapbook, along with concert tickets, little notes, and any other small mementos you may find. It’s like an IRL Instagram feed, but of your relationship.
2. Have A DIY Date
Find a tutorial you like on YouTube (I live for TheSorryGirls and Lone Fox) and grab all the supplies you need at a dollar store or thrift shop. Load up on snacks, grab some wine or tea, and get to crafting!
3. Plan A 2002 Night & Watch A Reboot
Grab your butterfly clips and Juicy tracksuit, and get ready for a 2002-themed date night with boo. Maybe you both dress up like it’s the early 2000s and snuggle up to watch a reboot of an old classic or you hit the town by going to some OG fave spots, like the Rainforest Cafe or Johnny Rockets. Whatever you choose, the best way to celebrate 2020 with your date is to bring it back to 2002.
4. Start A Monthly Club
Planning a running date night to sit down and swap media recommendations can be a great way to start your 2020. Whether you switch off who chooses the movie or book or snuggle up to listen to some tunes together, making time to share your favorite things in 2020 is a great way to connect with your date.
5. Have A Disposable Camera Day
Sure, you have Huji Cam. Or maybe you had it, then deleted it for VSCO. Whatever the case, if you plan to have a romantic, retro 2020 date, hit up a drugstore for a literal disposable camera (yes, they still sell them) and turn your phone off for an entire day. Run around the city with your boo and take some sweet photos together on the camera, to commemorate the adventure.
6. Plan A Silly Scavenger Hunt
From hitting all the places you went together in 2019 to revisiting different memories from throughout your relationship, a scavenger hunt date can be a great way to revisit some old faves as you get into 2020. Run around the city, find clues, and get to the next spot. Then meet up somewhere that neither of you has been before!
7. Try A $5 Challenge
Meet up with your boo in a new part of a town. Then hand each other a crisp $5 bill. Select a set amount of time, then yell, “Ready, set, go!” When you reunite again, see who found the other a better present or the most things for under $5. Balling on a budget, but make it romantic.
8. Make Vision Boards Together
Sitting together and collaging about the future can be a natural way to kick off the “Where do you see this going?” convo. Maybe you talk about a city you’ve always wanted to visit, which leads to a conversation about traveling together. Or perhaps you can describe your dream apartment, then naturally bring up one day moving in together. Blast some tunes, pour some drinks, and start cutting up some old magazines.
9. Go To A Local Show
Find a local theater in your community and see what upcoming shows are coming to town. Is a local high school putting on Bring It On: The Musical(it’s a thing)? Is a community center holding a futuristic, space ballet performance? Supporting your local arts scene can mean connecting more with your date and your community.
10. Brainstorm Date Ideas For The Rest Of The Year
Write down all the things you want to do with your boo this year, as well as any exciting activities you’ve always wanted to try in your city. Mix them all up and place them in a bowl. The next time you’re wondering what to do for date night, pick something out of the bowl and commit! Having a bunch of ideas ready to go can nix any, “Well, what do you want to do?” boredom for the rest of the year.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
The year was 1981. Bette Davis Eyes was topping the charts, and poppy synths dominated every retro jukebox in the nation. Like sand trickling down a Buick’s grease stain, time had run out for the dirty delight that was ’70s rock and roll. But there was one place left in America where guitar riffs could blow your mind and melt your face, a place where real rock music still lived, and it was just past the Magic Tea Cup Ride.
For one glorious summer, Disneyland California tried something different with its musical performances. It’s the hallowed, puke-filled halls host to the greatest band to have ever gotten high on an It’s Small World dingy 5 minutes prior. Fabricated by Walt Disney Records, Halyx (pronounced Hah-licks because this is sexy Vernor Vinge territory) was to combine the hip-thrusting glam rock of KISS with the proggy sci-fi aesthetic of ⦠not Star Wars, that would be too high a praise, but more like an early attempt at Starcrash cosplay.
And the Mickey Mouse love machines of Halyx went all out.
DisneyIt’d be a while before Disney outright owned the cantina genre.
Keyboardist Tom Miller flew around in a golf cart tricked out like a spaceship powered by keyboards. Tall bassist Roger Freeman was dressed like the unholy offspring of Chewbacca and a panda. Tony Caputo, percussionist-cum-acrobat (emphasis on all those words), swung around on a rope dressed as a space-goblin. All while Bruce Gowdy and Lora Mumford, in full Xanadu regalia, pierced the veil of prog-rock with their alien shredding and angelic screeches, respectively.
But how do you Disneyfy a sexy glam rock troupe? You don’t. Halyx wasn’t exactly PG-rated, captivating/stranger endangering their tween crowds with songs like Jailbait: “Baby I want you, want you / But you’re jailbait / Baby I want you, want you/ But you have to wait / Little boy” (Little boy? Who wrote this, Gary Glitter?)
Sadly, Halyx’s not-so-wholesome glory ended after only a few weeks in Disneyland, and after a small L.A. tour, the talented musicians went their separate ways. But their tongue-in-cheek (s) Star Wars magic has finally been pulled from its carbonite storage, relived in the excellent full-length documentary from YouTubers Defunctland. So take a seat, and whatever substance you couldn’t smuggle into Disneyland, and enjoy the trippy tale of Halyx.
Wanna be a better guitarist? Click this link to learn the secret!
My father, (Horace) his brother Jack and his mother, (My grandmother) stayed in a house on Rio Grande Avenue in Wildwood, during the summer. I don’t know if his dad visited on the weekends or not.
My dad told me the following story about Ocean Pier. (Fun Chase)
One day, his mom gave him some money to take his little brother up to the boardwalk to enjoy the day on Ocean Pier. It was an enclosed facility, and for one price you could enter and do whatever you wanted for the whole day. They had rides, movies, cartoons, and places to eat inside. As you can see from the photo above, it was an enclosed space so you could play in there rain or shine.
I think my dad was around 9 years old then, and his little brother Jack was a few years younger. My dad didn’t really want to hang out with his little brother all day, but he did it to please his mom. Who wants to be stuck all day with your annoying little sibling?
But my dad was amped for a fun-filled day at Fun Chase. When they got there they paid the cover and entered the little world of fun amusements. Once inside, my dad saw all the fun things to see and do, and having his little brother Jack along wouldn’t be so bad after all.
But then the unthinkable happened.
Little Jackie approached his brother with the following development. He had been suffering from some stomach disorders and had accidentally crapped his pants. (What began as a fart, quickly became a shart.)
This elevated the situation to a crisis level. My father, thinking quickly, was determined to have a fun day no matter what the unexpected, brown circumstances may be. He had been dealt a stinky hand in the game of life and there was no way he was going to let his little brother ruin his fun. Money had been paid, and fun was to be had, not forfeited by the weak bowels of little Jackie.
He took his brother by the hand and led him into the restroom. He took him inside one of the stalls and closed the door. He removed his brother’s shoes, socks and pants. He grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and wet paper towels and proceeded to clean his brother’s dirty butt. He disposed of Jack’s filthy underwear and put him back together.
The day resumed and they had a wonderful time. There was Horace and his brother going on rides and watching movies and having a grand old time together. My father, the savior of the moment, and Jack going commando, free balling his way through the day.
That evening, the boys got home and had dinner with their mom. Sharing with her all of their fun adventures of the day.
Later that night their mom was getting little Jackie ready for bed. She laid out his pajamas and proceeded to remove his clothes for his bath. She got his little trousers off when she made the discovery.
“Jack… what the hell happened to your underwear?”
“Horace flushed them down the toilet at Fun Chase!”
Wildwood, New Jersey – 1943
And so begins our rich history with the Hunt’s Corporation. Hunt’s owned all of the movie theaters in Wildwood. As a teenager, my dad worked for Hunt’s theaters as an usher.
I remember him telling me that when he and his coworkers were on break they would step out onto the boardwalk, and chat with girls. Hunt’s was always a classy operation. The ushers wore white shirts with ties. Blue blazers, and trousers with a gold stripe that ran along the outside of each pant leg.
When girls would ask him what was with his uniform, he would tell them that he and his coworkers were Merchant Marines. (It is the early 1940’s and WW II was going on, so this was a pretty sweet lie.)
He would go to the railing on the edge of the boardwalk, and point at the sea at one of the many buoys out in the ocean.
Teen Horace: “See that flashing light way out there?”
Girl: “Yes.”
Teen Horace: “That’s our ship out there.”
Girl: “That’s so neat!”
He and his buddies would maybe later meet the girls down at the big old merry-go-round at Midway pier. It was a big fast ride with a wild, loud calliope. It even had the spot where you could lean out and attempt to catch the brass ring to win a free ride!
Some things never change, no matter when you live. We used to tell girls we were in a band back when I was 14 years old.
Boys. The same everywhere, in every generation.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
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