First Jersey Tomato of 2006

The first Jersey tomato of the year for me! It's red, it's ripe, and it is only June 20th! I took that grainy photo at 6:00 yesterday. Thanks to John and Joan's fruit market in Piscataway, where the plants are the healthiest, hardiest I've ever seen. I got that plant for Mother's Day, and one month later I have the first ripe Jersey tomato in the neighborhood.

People write from all over asking me to send them tomatoes. I wish I could.

Summer Homework for Students - yawn

A subject near and dear to me just showed up in New Jersey news today. Should kids have required summer homework?

Some will hit the books more than the beach
Students get required summer homework to keep up - Monday, June 19, 2006
BY KRISTEN ALLOWAY Star-Ledger Staff

If you click on the link, you'll see what the latest Jersey buzz on homework is.

I thought summer was supposed to be about hanging around town, taking family vacations, staying at Grandma's house, etc. Summer usually meant "going someplace other than school."

We always took our kids to places where they'd get some hands on learning, and not always on purpose. Whether it was to Hacklebarney State Park to experience Jersey nature up close and personal, (although the leeches that stuck to their little legs after wading was a bit too close of a nature study for me), or a local museum, libraries, historical tours of our own towns and cities, the list was endless. I had a not so fun time trying to explain the mating ritual of Horse Shoe Crabs after a dinner outing down the shore once. Literally thousands of them were strewn on the sand like a horrible Nor'easter tossed them up there. I had to go home and look it up myself.

Father's Day and Jersey Tourism

Happy Father's Day, Pa, and to all of the Dads out there. I tried to move to Boulder, CO in the late 70's but my father, sister, and family kept me here. I came home after three months and never tried to leave the state again. "Who Says You Can't Go Home" indeed.

I just spotted the NJ Tourism commercial with Bon Jovi's song "Who Says You Can't Go Home" finally. I kept hearing it, but I'm one of those people who keeps a TV on for background noise while facing a computer monitor. It took several times hearing it to get curious enough to see what Bon Jovi was allowing their music to hawk.

Now that is a great, positive ad for tourism. The song is great, the shots of Barnegat Light and other Jersey scenes are beautiful; not a smokestack to be seen.

Originally I would have sworn Jon Bon Jovi's face was all over the commercial. He's hotter than ever at 40 something. Richie Sambora is not hard on the eyes either.

I just saw it again this morning so I'm editing like mad. Apparently I saw "the Making of Who Says You Can't Go Home" on VH1 or something, and it turns out it wasn't shot in Jersey for the most part. Oops.

Not that their looks matter or they had to have their faces shown, right? The beaches, the forest, the pine barrens, the beauty is in the eye of the beholder of all things Jersey.

Real Jersey Guys rockin' for tourism. Thank You.

New Jersey 101.5 - Ya Gotta Love It

“Not New York … Not Philadelphia … Proud to be New Jersey 101.5!” That appeals to me for obvious reasons. I grew up hearing I came from the "wrong side of the Hudson." I think I grew up just fine in the beautiful little town of Maplewood.

Close enough to the City to enjoy the bounty there, an hour and a half from the history in Philadelphia, and heading south on the GSP brought me down the shore in good time.

I did aiiiight growing up a Jersey Girl.

Liability Insurance, Marching Band, The Da Vinci Code

In that order. I'm ticked I'm paying a couple of k's for Liability Insurance on JerseyPorkRoll.com, 7 k on my car insurance because of a couple of little darlin's who drive around Jersey on my policy. I was really ticked my kids joined marching band. I'm also sad it is over.

Band is over, but not my high insurance rates in the very litigious state of New Jersey.

I detest the bumper stickers that say "I'm the proud parent of an Honor Student." I never felt the need to brag in such an impersonal way and annoy strangers stuck behind me at a traffic light, so now I'll blog it and embarrass them both.

I'm proud of my girls for surving through four years of marching band, although I was hoping just once they could march to the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, or even a Motown Medley, but it was not to be. I still think marching to a Jethro Tull piece would have been perfect though. Marching bands have flutes -- Ian Anderson plays the flute. See what I mean?

In the last few years, I learned my pampered little princesses could get up at 6:00 AM and stay on their feet till they had blisters the size of Texas at 10:00pm.

My girls can't walk the 20 feet to take the garbage out to the curb without whining, but they can march for miles in the Macy's Day Parade and smile while doing it.

They could march in step for miles, but walking six blocks to the bus stop at 7:00 was out of the question because "my back pack weighs a ton."

They could get up to the sound of a bugle at 6:00 at camp, but on any day they didn't have school or band, I had to pry them out of bed at noon.

Okay, band ranting is over, and I just paid the insane premium to keep the two ex-bandos driving for another six months.

Now I just want to read the Davinci Code because everyone I know is talking about it and all I read are web stats and inventory sheets! A good book and a swimming pool? Pork - pool. Pool, pork.. Hmmm?

Wildwood and Toll Booths

It was Wildwood weekend this past weekend, and as the kids, nieces, and others can tell you, "Only 361 days till Wildwood 2007." I've always felt they should let the grownups sleep off Wildwood 2006 or whatever year since 1988 before they begin the countdown till next year.

We stayed at A Shore View Motel for the first time, and it was wonderful! The managers, Paul and Deb are the best hosts we've seen in years. They made our group feel welcome and accommodated even the weirdest requests of the wee people. "Deb, my shirt accidentally fell into the pool, can I go get it?" It "accidentally" flew 20 feet to the left, over a fence, and from a balcony at 9:00 PM. "dropped" by my son. Deb said "no big deal" as she fished out his 2004 Yankee shirt from the pool bottom in the dark.

Sport? Is jet skiing even a sport? I failed as miserably at that as I did with real skiing in Colorado 25 years ago when it took me five hours to walk down the bunny slope. Years ago I fell off of a jet ski and it took an hour to get me back up there since the floatation vest pops up around your neck and cuts off your air supply, and cuts off all blood circulation to your arms when you hit the water. When Ween's husband asked if I wanted to go with them again this year, I politely but steadfastly declined the invitation. Why provide him with more fodder in the family tale telling department?

Too much porkroll and not enough exercise has left me about as non-athletic as possible. But on the way to and from Wildwood I discovered I now navigate toll plazas quite nicely again with my new EZPass.