An artistic mission

She jumped inside the taxi
both relieved and tense.
Snow was falling in Long Branch
at the end of a long train ride,
and the station was bustling
with people walking,
cleaning off their cars,
or looking for their ride home.

"How long will it take to
get to Asbury Park?" she asked.
"Where?" the driver asked.
"717 Cookman Avenue,
the Parlor Gallery," she quickly answered.
"Hmm, maybe 20 minutes --
it's hard to know because of the snow,"
the driver answered.

Concerned, she looked at the
two other passengers and asked,
"Should I take a train?"

"Hmm, this is probably faster,"
one fellow passenger replied.
"The train makes a couple of
other stops before getting to
Asbury Park,
and then you have to walk."

The taxi moved slowly
out of the station.
She looked up and asked,
"Should I get my own cab?"
"That's probably not an option
at this point," the other passenger said.
"This isn't Broadway in New York."

"By the time we get there,
I'm going to have only ten minutes
to see the exhibit," she said.
"I was hoping to have more time,
but the train was delayed."

The fellow passenger encouraged her
to enjoy dinner at one of
Asbury Park's fine restaurants,
near the art gallery.
Her response after a silent pause
was simply to inquire whether
the Asbury Park train station had
an indoor seating area.


The taxi continued south
on Ocean Avenue,
preparing to drop off
the first person who,
before wishing his
fellow passengers well,
asked the woman:

"What artist could make someone want
to ride a train for almost two hours
just to see their work for ten minutes?"

"Jill Ricci."

Atlantic City rambling

It's the most fascinating town in New Jersey. And, for some, among the most boring. It rose from the sands of the Atlantic Ocean in 1854. But, few people bother with its beaches today. Parts of it are as surreal as the casinos on the strip at Las Vegas. Much of it, however, is a cold splash of water in the face.

Atlantic City, New Jersey, has contributed much to the world: inspiration for the world's most popular board game; hosting the world's most famous beauty pageant from 1921-2005; the first boardwalk in the U.S.; salt water taffy; the setting for many movies and TV shows. Decades after its heyday, it even managed to land the Democratic national convention which nominated Lyndon Johnson for president in 1964.

A rebirth was predicted after the first casino opened in Atlantic City in 1978. For more than a dozen years, it seemed to be happening. New buildings rose and major entertainers were booked, making Atlantic City among the most popular tourist destinations in the U.S. at one point.

The sun has been setting down on the city again the past 20 years, it seems. New construction has slowed, some casinos have been torn down and not replaced, and gambling revenues have fallen dramatically. The neighborhoods just a few blocks from the boardwalk never seemed to benefit much from the investments made in Atlantic City after gambling was legalized.

During a visit to one casino the first Saturday afternoon in January, there were lots of empty parking spots, many more empty than occupied stools by slot machines, and some closed restaurants and stores. Security guards ignored smokers who puffed away in non-smoking areas, and packs of teenagers walked easily through areas marked for patrons 21 and over.

Boardwalk pushcarts waited outside casino doors, offering gamblers a smoother and quicker trip past the historic Boardwalk Hall than they could expect driving on bumpy Atlantic Avenue, where traffic lights aren't synchronized. Perhaps it's symbolic of how the old and new in Atlantic City aren't quite in sync, and that the city's best days are seen in a rear view mirror, not straight ahead.

"Well now, evrything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe evrything that dies someday comes back"
-- Bruce Springsteen, "Atlantic City," 1982