When Life Crumbles Your Cookie

I have failed you, green besprinkled friends.

I have failed you, green besprinkled friends.

We all know what to do you when life hands you lemons, just as we all know about cookies and the way they sometimes crumble. On my way back to Boston after a nomadic Memorial Day Weekend, I had in my bag some rather precious cargo – two Ninja Turtle cookies from the greatest business establishment known to man, Colonial Bakery. A series of unfavorable circumstances (crazy early flight, lots of rushing, bag packed with a laptop and other stuff) convened to put me awkwardly juggling bags, shoes, jackets and my boarding pass through security. In the hubbub, my cookies crumbled to the fine pulp at your left. (Don’t worry, I was going to be nice and share with the RyGuy.)

I trudged straight to work upon landing and plopped the cookie dust on my desk, sneaking occasional chunks while pondering what to do with this travesty. I shared this picture on Facebook to garner sympathy for my grave misfortune. Condolences rolled in from my Shore friends and I wondered exactly how I would manage eating these.

Then, genius struck: ice cream topping! Two of my most favorite guys (Ben & Jerry – what, did you think I was going to say Mark & AJ?) have been blending baked goods into ice cream for years. Obviously, these two pulverized Michaelangelos were just waiting for the sundae treatment. I shared my stroke of fat kid genius on Facebook and collected a few “likes” of agreement. See, I always try my best to find the upside of a down situation (or else I surely would have cracked up years ago) and this pickle turned into a win-win-win-win (in Michael Scott parlance). Eventually. Continue reading

Hurricane Sandy: Still an Enormous Bitch

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My story about the LBI Trailer Park. Clearly, I’m not a photographer.

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But this was a good one. Not sure if it’s still online anywhere. I may just retype it in one day. You should read it.

Hurricane Sandy, aside from being a horrible jerk, has so many knotted, sticky stories in her undercurrent that we’ll have to untangle in the coming months and years. There’s the story about how messed up the flood insurance system is. There’s the story about us damaging our planet so much that it’s turning against us. There’s the substory of that one that our seas are rising and some of our favorite places are in very real danger of extinction.

One of the stories that makes me the saddest is that the iteration of our country that gave us our Shore is gone. If you’re unfamiliar, hearing that hundreds of vacation homes were ruined may not stir many emotions. These don’t all belong to millionaires though.  In most areas of the 127-mile coastline, small unassuming bungalows are passed down through regular families over many decades – like mine. More on that in a second.

In my old life as a reporter, I wrote a story about the only trailer park on Long Beach Island. LBI went through a similar period of destruction and rebuilding after the Ash Wednesday storm of 1962. I’m sure lots of old stock housing was destroyed or knocked down and bigger, more expensive houses replaced little beach shacks. A drive down Long Beach Boulevard can feel like a tour of the 1%’s summer playground, but at the southern end sandcastles give way to sandboxes. Continue reading

New Jersey “Survivor”: Who Would You Vote off the Island?

Ugly stereotypes just keep getting uglier.

My inner news nerd latched onto UniversalHub soon after moving to Boston last year out of a gnawing need to know all the ins and outs of superlocal news. (Post-journalism Stockholm syndrome? Maybe.) Before his arrest and awesome sentence, Sob Story Guy, a creative panhandler who tricked unsuspecting commuters with a tale of woe in exchange for cash, popped up quite a bit with readers’ accounts of his incessant bilking. The law eventually caught up with him and Sob Story Guy got three years in prison and had to agree to leave the state within 60 days of his release. Seriously. Exiled from Massachusetts. Major points to the judge on that one.

This got me thinking…what if we could kick people out of New Jersey? The longer I live out of state, the more I see that outsiders really think we live in a hellhole overrun by unintelligent buffoons with attitude problems. Unfortunately, there’s a few people in the public eye who confirm this to the world and potentially deserve banishment. Let’s start at the very top, shall we? Continue reading