so, we went to asbury park. it's the kind of town where, when you see something like that painted on a building, you don't believe it.

it was a gorgeous day. the sun was shining. the birds were singing. we all griped about jersey traffic, which was substantially worse than it had been a week earlier when i went to manahawkin. but the sky was pretty.

upon getting into asbury park, we were greeted by friendly structures, such as this one:

we parked, and attempted to feed the meter. after determining the quarter slot was clogged, we determined the dime slot was clogged as well. as a measure of good faith, i left a dime in the dime slot, indicating my desire to feed the meter. there would be no metermaids here.

the first building that we came across on the boardwalk was the convention center. my dad replied, "hey, that's the convention center!" upon seeing the photo. after spending many a summer's afternoon here, that's the best he could come up with.

there were several signs proclaiming beach tickets for sale. and several heavily padlocked buildings that claimed to sell them.

speaking of tickets.. "if you want to litter.. FINE!"

there was no pizza here.

there was no cheesy photography on sale.

nobody sat on the benches.

there wasn't even a tilly.

not much more was around, except for our shadows.

but there was a strange woman who approached us with a story about how she ran out of gas on the parkway, and that she needed a couple of bucks for gas. then she told us that allentown was not a prosperous town, that she was headed for a bar, that her daughter was from upstate new york, and she once got jumped by some black guys while walking through asbury park. the parkway was several miles away. we took her picture.

here's the bar she was undoubtedly headed for:

and there were some feral kittens. they were probably underfed grown cats. they shied away from us.

...and a feral guitar player..

this is a seagull.

the nothingness on the beaches, reflected by the nothingness in the storefronts.

this shanty was described by my father, the astute historian, as "some kinda shack. they probably sold something."

this sign, ironically, was at the very end of the boardwalk, at "casino pier" as it was called. once a hustling, bustling structure full of rides, amusements, and those "pick a number, win a carton of cigarette" games my mother always kicked ass at.. now contained nothing but a few enlarged postcards of what asbury park once was.

not a creature was stirring. the echo was immense.. it was the most inviting abandonment i've ever seen. there was ceiling of netting to catch the debris that would occasionally fall from the failing roof.

at one point, there had been a ferris wheel that jutted out of the building. from the very top, you could see for miles on end. now, trees poke out here and there.

it was also apparently once a skating palace. but not for the skateboarders who were promptly dispersed by a cop on a bicycle.

next to the casino pier, this machinery just chilled in the shade. it was hungry for building.

there were also trees growing on the backside of this building. having a tree on the roof wins it definitive points.

once a majestic carousel, the horses were sold to greener pastures years ago.

it was incredible near the beach.. not a soul was around. just the three of us and our fifteen cameras. the ocean was bluer than i remember it being at seaside, and there wasn't any outright junk on the beach. just sandrover tracks and seashells.