A Shore Thing

There is something so strange and intoxicating about a summer in Atlantic City, NJ. I love the stark contrast of the beauty of the ocean, and the dirtiness of rundown, carnival rides. The greasy food. The broken beer bottles. The cheap stuffed animals. The all night casinos. Good decisions and bad decisions. Winners and losers. Atlantic City is a place to be admired. Sure, it is rundown. Sure, it is bankrupt. But, it represents an iconic American summer.

The dark, almost black sand is blazing hot by noon. The atlantic waters are freezing cold this early in the summer. I am captivated by the people on this beach. You have families with small children sitting next to 20 somethings burdened with an all day hangover. Couples in love, and couples who have hated each other for years. You have back tattoos and scantily clad women. You have mom's in one pieces, and bikers in bandanas. Listen carefully and you hear Spanish, English, Arabic and Chinese. Atlantic City is an amalgam of cultures, beliefs, socio-economic status, age and race. When you are here, nothing matters.

Take a walk on the boardwalk and look around you, truly stop and observe. You'll see summer transplants, visiting the US on work visas. A young Korean girl stands in front of neon green plush unicorns. She speaks broken english into her microphone, enticing you to play a round of "Water Game" she promises that everyone is a winner.

The sharp sweet smell of funnel cake lingers in the background. A baby is sipping on a coca-cola. The screams of rickety old rides can be heard.

Down on the beach an older man is yelling "ice cream, ice cream!" as he sluggishly carries a dirty, white cooler full of ice and Klondik bars. The sand is like molasses and he is struggling. Young children beg their parents for $3 to buy one.

A young man in a cut off tee, sets up his guitar stand and begins to belt country renditions of pop songs. People around him walk by with glazed, vacant expressions.

I sit outside of the Trump Taj Mahal. The decor mocks the culture it is modeled after. I watch people go in, and out. I wonder if they realize the implications of their actions. The inside is dirty, old, dark and run down. The lights remain low to hide stains and imperfections. The building smells like stale cigarettes and regret. I laugh at the irony of standing here, wondering if this is what making "American Great Again" looks like.

When the sun sets, the city comes alive. Flashing neon lights line the boardwalk. We're asked to have our palms read. Club promoters promise free entrance into their clubs. People pile into the casinos, praying for a big win.

A man is blowing bubbles and a child sprints towards them in pure delight. I wonder where their parents are.

The night carries into the morning. Hours run into each other here and 3:30am feels like 10pm. When the sun starts to come up, the day happens all over again. The Korean girl takes her place with the stuffed animals. The man sells his ice cream. People come and go. The perfect, American summer.

#Travel #Photography #Summer