Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Ghosts of towns past

This past weekend we were invited to spend it with our colleague Srdjan, and his family, in Asbury Park, NJ.

The entire weekend I felt completely out of place due to my lack of lore about this town.  It is an abashing finding to realize that we have lived in New Jersey for so many years and have no real knowledge of what Asbury Park hath been, in different stages of its turbulent life.

Luckily, both our hosts as well as my good friend Paul knew quite a bit of the history of this town.  Namely, both Paul and his wife, Marcia, had grown up a good part of their respective childhoods not far from the town. They have seen its decrepit state first-hand, and then learned of years past from tales of older generations.

I will begin this by stating the most important of thoughts, before I lose it.  Whatever Asbury Park may have been at any other, given, era, it is certainly not it now.  This came as an exponential amplification to my amazement with this town.  As a first encounter with it, I was in deep disbelief that we could find such a gem at only an hour's drive from our house.  Then, learning the baffling past, and the tales that these old streets might tell, it intensified my liking for it to a level that is hard to describe here.


Back to what we found there...

Firstly, Srdjan welcomed us to his magnificent duplex where his brother and a friend (Bojan, and Zoran) were preparing some pljeskavice.  His condo is truly marvelous. 
We spent a wonderful afternoon on his balcony, sharing beer lavishly with our new friends, and exchanging stories of each one's lives as the sunset bathed us with crimsons and chimney reds.  When Bojan finished his meat masterpiece, we all recharged.  He even dared to bring somun.  Oh, cursed nostalgia!  How heavy your blade!   
As the dark veil came over the ocean, we were depleting our deposits of effervescent conversation-lubricant.  Just in time, some fireworks lit up the sky from a handful of miles away.  Paul guessed that it might have been Belmawr.  They lasted for over a half an hour.  The night was brewing an early potential of being magical.

With meat and carbs still in our esophagi, and out of beer, our clock rang the time called "time to hit the town".
We hit the streets.

The charm or downtown Asbury Park, at night, came to shine.  We visited several places that served good beer and good food.  Srdjan, being a foodie (besides his wife, Annette, being a 5-star restaurant chef) knows the who is who of the local gastronomy scene. At the first place we went, the owner was still in the midst of opening the establishment.  The official outside banner had not, yet, been propped.  In its stead, a plastic tarp hung with the logo of the place.  The owner came out to shake hands with Srdjan.  Then he tucked himself behind the swinging door of the kitchen, just to come out 5 minutes later with a large oval plate with a heaping pile of smoked meat.  He dropped the plate on the bar in the middle of our seven-member party and welcomed us to a treat on the house.  The hospitality!  The meat turned out to be short-rib meat smoked for sixteen hours straight.  Succulent is an adjective that falls short of how delicious this meat just was.

We kept hopping door-to-door in a whirlwind of beer, meat, conversations, faces, laughs.  Whenever our pint glasses were reaching bottoms, Srdjan would raise his both arms and point his fingers towards the door.  It all became a blur.  In my inebriated state it became very difficult to process this quantity of information.  I cannot recall names of establishments, but perhaps one or two.  It all became some euphoric nirvana.  I just remember that the overall feeling was very cozy, with hipster characters surrounding us.  I did not feel threatened at any point in time, something that is an easy pitfall of any town's night scene.   Instead, we painted the night with craft, draught beer like Chimay and Stone IPA.  Asbury Park has all the makings of awesome.


We closed the party at Bond Street Bar.  I should have mentioned that Srdjan had bragged about the burger at this place, earlier.  He called it the best burger in the World.  He also stated that Annette, with all her culinary knowledge and prowess, loves this burger more than many.  I thought he built it up too much.  The truth is: he couldn't build it up enough.  When Srdjan mentioned to the bartender that we were looking for some burgers, the bartender said the kitchen is closed.  Almost contiguously, the chef came out of the kitchen, recognized Srdjan and came to shake hands with him.  He did not want to hear it, he quickly went back and cooked us the best burgers that I had in a long time.  Sincerely, very few burgers compare to what this guy cooks. A patty of quality beef and perfect seasoning is smothered in cheese and mushrooms.  I just made my mouth water typing this paragraph.
Jacinta and I kept our own conversation by the bar as the rest of the group played some shuffleboard.  What a perfect way to wrap up our party.

Back at Srdjan's place, Paul and I picked up the guitars.  Srdjan took the tambourine.  We strummed some classic tunes for a bit.  I was too drunk to carry on, so Paul had the torch.  Good times.

I wanted to see the sunrise.  Srdjan said he will walk Moby, before 9AM because no dogs are allowed at that time, onward.  I made a promise that I would join him.

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In the morning, I failed the keep my promise.  Surprise, surprise!  The beds were very comfortable and we slept in.  I went downstairs and drank 5 glasses of water trying to get back to my senses.  The house was quiet.  Little did I know that the Serbian contingent had already left for coffee.

That day we were joined by Annette and the lovely Mia, their daughter.  We hit the beach right away.  Much to my (and apparently, everyone else's) surprise, this beach is splendid! 

Our biggest regret of the weekend was to not bring the camera or to walk around with our iPhones, to be able to take photos.

At the beach, Paul began telling us the tales of this town.  It seems that, chronologically, Asbury Park went from being a ritzy weekend destination, pumped with attractions, to being an abandoned lot that opportunistic rock-and-rollers sought to raise noise, to just being an abandoned plot, then to (again) being a wonderful weekend spot.  This chronology, evidently, spans multiple decades.

Walking around the boardwalk in daylight, it is still evident that this town has seen some low times.  Most of the places on the boardwalk are sporting their fresh coats of paint, but there are still some flagships in town that paint a different picture.  The outer shell of the casino is still so horridly dilapidated that the Casino itself looks like it's feeling out of place and wants to just pick up and walk away from it all.  The Convention Center is halfway renovated, but its walls still tell tales of sumptuousness, decadence, atrophy, then putrescence. 

Srdjan explained some of the struggles that the new developers have with the town and its government.  Local corruption is only a speculation on my part, but one that Jersey is quite comfortable with. 

Paul later showed us pictures of Asbury Park from seven years ago.  I asked him for copies.  It is not recognizable.  The decrepit buildings offer a post-apocalyptic impression, to the extent that it's laughable.  It just didn't belong on a U.S. coast.  The lonesome boardwalk longed for the merry shuffle of some flip-flops.  It was a Sunday and Paul and Marcia were the only people there.

Coming back to our Sunday, we turned ourselves into kids in some tall waves, then caught a bite and a PBR with Srdjan at a bar that opened inside of the Convention Center.  We tried to get into the Watermark, the Wonder Bar, and they both had private parties.  Later, Srdjan found out that the Boss had played an impromptu 45-minute set at the Wonder Bar that night.  Wretched fate!

We ended up at an opening of a beer hall, right behind Stone Pony.  It is called Porta National Park.  Annette and Mia also re-joined us there after Mia's nap, and we met some more of their local friends.  The place has bocce ball and they just installed two brick ovens so they were serving free pizza to all the tables.  We washed it down with some Sam Adams Summer Ale and the girls played bocce.  We welcomed the evening there, by listening to a blues jam band bust out some of Jimi's finest tunes, and drinking and conversing with all the friends, new and old.

We closed our weekend by going for another BSB burger, and then some gelato. 

I think Jacinta summed it up the best, while we were at the beach, when she said: "I feel like we went away somewhere, for a weekend vacation!"  It is true.  At just an hour away, Asbury Park takes you many, many miles further, and you let loose.

We can't wait to go back.

I also wish I brought G here instead of Coney Island.  Oh well, we know for next time someone is visiting.

3 comments:

  1. Great story Mili... We should get together again and maybe jam some more with Paul after I dust off my acoustic...

    Bojan

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  2. Bojane! Great to hear from you. Thanks for the kind words, we truly had such a good time.

    Paul and I are always up for jamming. Get your axe ready and let us know when it works for you.

    Can't wait to see you guys again.

    Cheers,
    Mili

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  3. Well, I used to be in a band and I still have a fever, and the only prescription is more COWBELL! Drop few songs, give me few days and let's get together... STP in Stone Pony tonight!

    ReplyDelete