On the Avenue

There's a new place in town and we're loving it right from the get-go. The Avenue Cafe may just be the thing that finally puts the old Corbin & Reynolds/Monterey's space to fruitful use.

It's been open just about a month by now, and already we've experienced it every which way. We've been to a birthday party in the private party room, we've had dinner a couple of times, we've sat at the bar (the nicest in town, hands down) and we've had breakfast.  Each of these was its own experience, with distinct plusses and minuses, but all in all, it's a definite keeper, and we're rooting for George and Chris (the owner-brothers) for the long-haul. 

For those not in the know, these are the people who brought us Ocean Park Diner, just down the block. George and Chris have always had a loyal following, thanks to very decent diner fare, good prices and friendly service. Now they've taken that formula to the big time, and so far it's working out great.

For starters, they padded up the big room with sound absorbing decorator touches, so for the first time in memory, you can hear yourself think.  Not only have they upgraded the decor, they've laid in a sound track worthy of an intimate lounge.Very impressive.

For another thing, they've staffed up with professional waiters and busboys -- no kids (I inquired for my 14 year old) -- so the service is good.  With only one exception so far... breakfast this morning, a Saturday.

My theory is that the kitchen, which they took over from the previous owners, was not designed for short order. It was designed for dinner, which is a much more leisurely operation. Drinks and appetizers buy the chef time for meal preparation that breakfast just doesn't, but I have faith in George and Chris. They'll figure it out because they want to do it right and they're in it for the long haul.  

As far as dinner goes, the Avenue Cafe is the first diner where I've ever ordered anything beyond a burger, turkey sandwich or eggs. On two Friday nights, I ordered first fish and veggies, and then chicken and veggies, and both times, was very happy. Not only that, but while you wait for your order, the fresh bread basket comes with a homemade trio of hummus, tapenade and garlic oil.  Yum!

Upstairs in the party room, the catering was equally if not more enjoyable. Attractively presented and well served, a great time was had by all.

The only part of the Avenue experience that I still have to get comfortable with is the bar. I'm having trouble getting past the diner menu, served with my pinot grigio or my husband's Macallan's 12 neat. But where there's a will, there's a way, and it's just sure to be just a matter of time before I'm settled in on my bar stool.

In fact, the place is already starting to feel like home. This morning at breakfast, we had just been seated when two of our closest friends came in. And as soon as the four of us had resettled at another table, two more friends came in and joined us. What more could you want?

So cheers, George and Chris. Here's mud in your eye!

P.S.  George and Chris plan to turn Ocean Park into a bakery - look out, Country Boy.

Sink, Swim or Surf

Disclaimer: My son is on the Long Beach High School surf team (the first in New York State), and that makes me a proud surf mom. By definition, it also makes me a surfing advocate. Go team!

Nonetheless, I have to admit that the sudden surfing craze in LB is making me very nervous. The $1 million Quiksilver Pro NY competition, which is contracted to take place in LB this September, is about to put our barrier island on the international surfing map. And that will only mean one thing: a deluge of surfers swarming our fragile beach, and not just during the competition, but forever after (Long Beach is a heck of lot closer than Montauk for people from the city and even for most Long Islanders). Residents: prepare for the onslaught!

Among the distinct possibilities:

• Out-sized commuter crowds, especially on the Riverside to National stretch of beach.
• Litter - on the beach, on the streets and on private lawns.
• Parking wars.
• Traffic - coming, going and circling.
• Mayhem on the waves, resulting in injury and even (God forbid) fatality.

 And for those of us who live in the prime corridor connecting the LIRR to the beach:

• Pedestrian armies blocking the intersections.
• Trampled lawns and trampled strangers perched on curbsides and property lines.
• Overflowing trash receptacles on street corners.

In addition to these injuries, we may well sustain the most mortal of insults: being squeezed off our beach by visitors and forced to emigrate westward for more peaceful sands.

The Crew (sans Egans)

The Final Trek: Labor Day 2010

As far as I'm concerned, the only reason to live in Long Beach at all, the only possible excuse for paying the exorbitant taxes that we endure, is the right and ability to stroll three leisurely blocks due south, to cross under the boardwalk, pass the lifeguard shack (Hi, Paul! Hi, Frank!) and plotz in "our spot," the one we've been gravitating to since our kids were small, along with our neighbors and friends. The one where anyone in town knows they'll find the Gelfands, the Cabasinos, the Conners, Egans and Akalskis, without even asking.



The prospect of losing that legacy is just too sad to contemplate, too unacceptable to even take seriously. So for now, I'll just keep my eye on the doings of the newly sprung Long Beach Surfer's Association and my ears open for hints of what's to come. Let's hope it's not a wipe out.

Super Sunday

If there were an official holiday to celebrate Long Beach, Super Bowl Sunday would be it, and the annual Polar Bear Plunge would be the official celebration. No matter how many years I go to watch (yes, watch) this outstanding coming together of our community, my heart never fails to swell. The sheer number of people who strip to their skivvies -- no matter how bitterly cold -- to raise money for Make a Wish Foundation and to share in the community comraderie is mind-boggling. Standing on a bench just west of the ramp at Edwards Blvd., it appeared that literally thousands of bathers and their cheerleaders blanketed the beach clear down to Riverside Blvd.  It was a truly awesome sight to behold!

No less enthralling was the parade of characters up on the boardwalk. There were four young athletes in black speedos (ahem) who turned heads coming and going. There was the polar bear in the bikini, topless Santa and legions of people in bathrobes, furry caps with paws and all manner of beachwear. And let's not forget the official Polar Bear uniform: Darryl and I were the ones in the sweatshirts, in case you saw us (LOL). 

After walking the water line to oggle and admire the free and the brave, we strolled to the Allegria for post-plunge libations. Sitting by the lounge fireplace was something of a return to the scene of the crime, since we had been there the night before to attend the Polar Bear cocktail party. So it was a little bit of the hair of the dog, if you know what I mean.

Moving from there to our friends' annual Super Bowl party was the perfect end to a perfect day. Great food, great friends. Oh, did someone say football? Was that on the line up, too?

Smell the Roses

My poor doggie has had a rash her entire life. No kidding. For six years, she's had a skin condition that no one can solve -- not our wonderful vet (Dr. Ratner at Island Park Veterinary Hospital) and not LI Veterinary Specialists, who whipped up a batch of allergy serum that I injected her with for weeks to no effect.

Her current regimen is twice weekly baths with antifungal shampoo and an antifungal spray chaser. She also gets twice daily antifungal tablets and several additional doses of the spray. All of this I have been managing reasonably well until this week.

Cupcake has a scab at the tip of her left ear from scratching. Every time I shower her, the scab dissolves, and when she shakes off the water, blood sprays all over the walls.  I mean ALL OVER.  I literally had to scrub the walls in the bathroom, back hall and kitchen from top to bottom, and it was true sweat labor. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just can't go through that again. So I decided to spend the bucks and send her out to the doggy salon for her next bath.

Today was the day. I called ahead to Groomin' Tails Pet Salon in the West End and was invited to bring Cupcake in at noon. What a great place!  There was cat lounging on a pedastal, next to a parrot clinging to the grate of its cage. There was a gorgeous white shepherd getting her nails trimmed and a miniature schnauzer being brushed. And everyone was happy! Not a howl in the place.

I warned them not be deceived by Cupcake's sweet face or misleading moniker. Let's just say that she is not known to be warm and fuzzy with strangers. They waved away the soft muzzle I brought with me and sent me packing. 

When I returned to pick her up a couple of hours later, she was happily napping behind the counter (not in a cage) and was clean and sweet-smelling. A pink bandana was tied around her neck - and she wasn't even scatching at it!

The good news is I have a clean, happy dog and clean, happy walls. The bad news is I can't make this a regular thing - Cupcake needs bathing too frequently for my checkbook. So it's back to the showers for us. But thanks to Groomin' Tails, I have a new trick up my sleeve: styptic powder or baking flour. Apparently either will stem the bleeding from the scab.

That tip alone has earned Tammy and Karen a place in my heart. And the next time I just can't face the job myself, I'm headed straight back to Groomin' Tails. 

Unchained

Is there anything uglier than a chain link fence?  I think not. Especially in front of a period stucco. Or a historic brick.

Chain link fences have their place, of course. On the perimeter of a car pound, for instance. But why in the world would any self-respecting LB homeowner want one on their property line, unless they have a hankering for the good old days in the Bronx?

There used to be a chain link fence around the municipal parking lot on the corner of Walnut Street and Long Beach Blvd., behind Clear-Vu Cleaners. Mercifully, the city replaced it last year with a white PVC fence that much improved the aesthetics of the neighborhood (even if they did inexplicably ground it on a bright blue cement foundation).

The lot on Edwards Blvd. behind Gino's has not been as fortunate - or should I say that we who live down that block and pass the lot nearly every day have not been as fortunate. The lot itself is perhaps the worst blight in all of Long Beach, especially since the garbage dumpsters from behind the Park Avenue restaurants have outgrown the alley and have migrated into the parking area. That atrocity  has occurred on our city's main thoroughfare, the traverse that connects the train station with the beach. It is the garden spot that "welcomes" legions of visitors and affronts local residents daily.  And the affront is thoroughly compounded by the chain link fence that finishes it off.

I'd like to think that a white picket fence is in the cards for our poor, bedraggled Edwards Blvd. Just like the lucky lot on LB Blvd.... which BTW is not looking so lucky right about now.  The city snow plows broke through the fence!  Can you believe it??  

Talk about two steps forward, one step back!

LB North

If it's winter and you don't see the usual faces around town, chances are better than even they're at Hunter Mountain. If you're not a skier, you might not realize that Hunter is home away from home for a sizable number of LBers. Colonel's Hall (the mountain lodge) is a virtual melting pot of seasonally displaced surfers and sunbathers from the barrier island.You just never know who you're going to run into, especially during the 11:30 AM rush, when the ski schools and adult groups break for lunch. In addition to the regular vacation-home-owning cast of characters who have generously taken the Gelfands under their wings for many years now (you know who you are), we have encountered classmates, teachers and camp friends.

It's a close knit group that has found the perfect pastime between summers. But skiing is more than that. It's really the perfect sport, if you stop and think about it. When the kids are small, teaching them the ropes is high quality family time spent in a gorgeous natural setting, breathing pristine air while enjoying exhilerating exercise. When the kids get old enough to be embarrassed being seen with you and take off on their own (as long as you load them up with lunch money), skiing is quality alone time with your honey, followed by happy hour in the lodge :-) and then family regrouping over dinner. You really can't beat it, especially as a segway to Memorial Day... when the ritual migration reduces from 3 hours on the NYS Thruway to 3 blocks on National Blvd.

Ah, summer!

Bully for Long Beach

The front page story in today's Newsday is about the epidemic bullying in Long Island schools. It features four kids willing to speak on the record about their torment, and two of the four are from Long Beach High School. Reading it made me just want to cry.

I can easily imagine that for a teenager, being bullied at school could well be worse than being bullied at home. Teenagers identify more closely with their friends than with their families, and peer-rejection must be a pain that traumatizes a teen like no other. It is a kind of sociopathy that is unforgiveable, because it robs its victims of their last few years of childhood and scars them for life.

Each of the kids who spoke for the article alerted their schools to their problem, and despite the schools' policy-appropriate actions (detention for the bullies, workshops for the student bodies at large), the harrassment continues. The family of one of the kids decided to withdraw him from school altogether until they can move to another district. The two 10th graders from Long Beach are starting an anti-bullying club together. Good for them!  But in the meantime, the torture continues.

Who gives these torturers their power? Who allows them to perpetuate their singular cruelty?  We do. We tsk, tsk and applaud the schools for acknowledging the problem and their efforts to sensitize students and faculty to this insidious form of gang-war. What we don't do is demand drastic and immediate action.

The first line of defense for parents of kids being bullied is certainly to allow the educational system to exert its influence. But the kids profiled in Newsday describe literally years of abuse that the schools have been powerless to stop, despite their best efforts. It seems to me that families in this situation should be willing to endure ineffectiveness for only so long before taking matters into their own hands.

A formal police complaint would be one way to let the bully's parents know that you are not willing to watch your child suffer in silence.Civil action against the bully's family would be another way to get their attention, and potentially hit them where it hurts most -- in their checkbook. Criminal action would be entirely warranted, in my opinion, if only bullying were officially classified as a criminal act.

Since unfortunately it's not (yet), we are still reliant on the schools to put a stop to this wholly unacceptable behavior. Instead of ineffectual lectures from the dean, bullies should be segregated from the rest of the student population in class. Instead of after-school detention, they should be suspended. Bullies should not be permitted to circulate among our children, and as evidenced by the four brave students willing to share their stories in Newsday, drastic action is needed to turn the advancing tide before the land is flooded.

Home Sweet Home

San Francisco has hills you could ski down, mist-ical views of the Bay, and beautiful, quirky streetscapes populated by beautiful, quirky architecture. Long Beach has a magnificent boardwalk you can stroll, run or ride; world-class views of the Atlantic, and beautiful, eclectic streetscapes populated by beautiful, eclectic homes.

SF has great shopping, great eating and great access to the natural outdoors, just over the Golden Gate Bridge. LB has limited (but improving) shopping, mediocre eating, and the best natural playground on the East Coast, just up the block. No driving, no trudging uphill required. And we're a stone's throw from the best city on the planet.

San Fran has its charms (just got back, in case you can't tell. Birthday surprise for my sister - the look on her face was priceless!).  But Long Beach has magic.


I love them both, but LB is home.

Let's Play Ball!

There's been a lot of arguing lately about the proposed new sports complex at LB High. Last week, a fellow football parent asked us to sign a petition expressing support for the project, which we did and which was presented at a school board meeting overflowing with both opponents and advocates.

The project has polarized at least two camps: families of children who play sports (most of whom presumably do not live adjacent to the school) and channel-side Lido Beach homeowners. At a stop sign one morning after dropping my son off at Middle School for practice, I overheard two neighbors on the sidewalk complaining to each other about the traffic they expect  the complex to bring to the neighborhood. To which I say, true, but only on game days. And isn't that a small sacrifice for the betterment of the community as a whole? Why should LB kids be prevented from utilizing and enjoying the HS field that is presently so sub-standard that it can be used only for practice? Why should all of the district's students be permanently penalized (even on non-game days) to satiate the selfish motives of the handful of homeowners whose properties border the school grounds? And what did you expect when you bought your home on the periphery of the school field anyway? 

All I know is, last night we attended our first home football game at the new Middle School field and it was blissful sitting there in the sparkling stands, cheering on our boys (who BTW massacred the other team) and taking in the waterscape of the Lido Beach golf club behind the visitors' stand. It was fabulous to see the kids play on a clean, well marked, well lit field under a scoreboard that actually kept score!  I can only look forward to more of the same when my middle schooler starts playing for the HS team.  Let's hope the field gets built before he graduates in 2015.

Incidentally, the football parent circulating the petition in support of the field is that rare exception to the rule: a Lido homeowner willing to put the best interest of the kids ahead of his own.  We need more like him.

The Bad Old Days

Now that summer is over, my antennae seem to be taking a break. I'm not feeling as tuned in as usual to the detritus that detracts from our LB experience. With one notable exception that's been on my mind since I started walking the boardwalk again after my knee surgery... the Hoffman Manor. 

Has anyone else noticed the cluster of men who began congregating on the boardwalk in front of the Hoffman Manor last summer? It doesn't bode well for a city that has spent 30 years pulling itself out of the depression that characterized our metropolis in the 60s and 70s.  SROs, section 8 housing, nursing homes... does that sound familiar?

Most people will agree that the Hoffman Manor is a far cry from a "seashore resort" or a "luxury retirement community," which is how it bills itself. But until now, it has not been any of the antisocial iterations that once populated our boardwalk. In my observation, the new residents of Hoffman Manor so far appear to be well mannered. But something doesn't feel right. There's been a change, and I'm not sure it's for the better. I'll say this much...it better not signal a return to the bad old days in good old LB.

Singin' in the Rain

Could any true LBer possibly ask for a better weather pattern?  Hot, sunny and gaw-geous all summer, then M-F rain in the fall with dry weekends.  Who could ask for anything more?

Wrong Way Street

We live on a one-way, east-west corridor. Theoretically, that should make traffic a little less treacherous than on a two-way thoroughfare. But the theory goes out the window every time a north-south driver turns onto  our block the wrong way, which happens more frequently than you might think... and not only after the West End lets out for the evening (or should I say, morning?) on Fridays and Saturdays. I can't even tell you how many times my husband has chased a wrong-way driver literally up the middle of the road to set him/her straight. 

When the kids on the block were little, we all chipped in for those neon plastic figurines that you put out on the curb to warn drivers about children playing. These little guys became something of a theme for our block, and one neighbor family even came dressed as the neons one year at a Halloween party (hint: spray paint your disposable hazmat suit). Unfortunately, our neons had a short lifespan, as they were soon stolen.

If these temporary warning posts didn't do the trick, a more permanent solution might. Our standard-issue "one way" intersection signs should have a "wrong way" plaque posted underneath, like the more fortunate corner Cupcake and I routinely pass during our neighborhood constitutional. Dollars to donuts that the people on that street have far fewer wrong-wayers barreling down their block than we do.

For another thing, drivers should simply slow down, look both ways and read the subtle signals, even if they can't read the signs. If the parked cars are all pointed in the same direction on both sides of the street, IT IS A CLUE that traffic only goes one way. If you can't figure that much out, you should be sleeping it off safely at home, not operating a motor vehicle.

And, for the record, if you suddenly discover that you're headed the wrong way down a one way street, do us all a favor: stop, pull into the next driveway, and turn around!

Dog Days of LB

I love my dog. She is an itchy, allergy-ridden, balding mutt; she barks at strangers and sometimes has accidents in the house. But I love her love her love her and she loves me back. I also love other people's dogs. My across-the-street neighbor has a Brittany Spaniel that hugs (awww). My next door neighbor has a magnificent German Shepherd that could represent the species.The people on the corner have a gi-normous Great Dane that makes me go ga-ga (she's white and pink like my Cupcake.Yes, pink). But you know who doesn't love dogs?  The City of Long Beach.



Yep. Long Beach is an anti-dog town. No dog runs. No dog parks. No dogs on the beach. No place to let your canine off the leash and just let loose, like dogs are meant to do. Fortunately, we have a backyard just big enough for Cupcake to exercise herself chasing airplanes and squirrels, but not everyone is that lucky.

A few years ago I got together with a bunch of other people to petition the city to establish a dog run. At this point I don't remember who they were or how we connected, but we shared a noble goal. We drew up a proposal for establishing, maintaining and policing a dog run in Long Beach, and we presented it at a City Council meeting. We even included a recommendation for charging a user registration fee to fund the run, but to no avail. I have no memory of what happened after that, because in fact nothing happened. When our 3 minutes of fame were up, the Council went back to its regularly scheduled agenda without further ado. And that was that.

Wouldn't it be great if we had a place to call our own, where dogs could frolic and owners could socialize and the friendly, lovin'-life culture of Long Beach could percolate? Sigh. I don't know if it will ever happen, but a girl can dream, can't she?

BTW, if all the dog owners out there who don't respect other people's property and don't clean up after their dogs would start respecting other people's property and cleaning up after their dogs, we might have a better shot at getting a public dog run one day.  You know who you are.

Sidewalk Splendor

Many of the businesses on Park Avenue do a great job of maintaining the sidewalks in front of their establishments. Quite a few of them keep planters on the street to dress things up. Unfortunately, not everyone follows their lead. Nu-Clear Cleaners, in particular, is an affront to all who enter Long Beach through our main north-south artery. They operate a virtual billboard of advertisements that dominates the corner of our largest and busiest intersection, with nary a tree or flower in site.Welcome to town! Let us box store your winter quilt! 

Nu-clear Cleaners need only look across the street to Pier One or the Mobil station for examples of how to do it right. Both of those businesses do an excellent job of maintaining an appealing facade that contributes to Long Beach's image as the thriving community that it is, without detracting in any way from their visibility or accessibility to customers. The Long Beach movie theater, too, is a model Nu-clear would do well to emulate.


I can't claim personal knowledge of the city code that governs maintenance of the streetscape in Long Beach.  But it would be a great thing if we undertook to extend the tree lined curbs such as between Edwards and National Blvds. to the east and west limits of town. And it would be wonderful as well to enforce an ordinance prohibiting storefronts from using their windows as billboards.

Nu-clear Cleaners, it's time to clean up your act.

Comin' Up Roses

One of the things I love best about Long Beach is the landscaping on the center medians along Park Avenue. It was one of the first things I noticed when we first arrived in LB 21 years ago. We came here from Brighton Beach in Brooklyn (once beach people, always beach people - we met on Fire Island), so you get the picture. My regular route home from the city back then was the Gowanus Expressway, perhaps the ugliest, filthiest road in North America (followed closely by the Van Wyck). When we moved to Long Beach, I began traveling the Loop Parkway to my new office in Woodbury, and I remember, like it was yesterday, driving home on the Loop, heading into the sunset and listening to Springstein on the radio, thinking: this is why we moved here.

That's how the landscaping on Park Avenue makes me feel. It just makes me happy that we all think it's important enough to preserve the line item in the city budget in order to beautify our community. It just makes me smile every time I see it. It sure beats hell out of the Gowanus!

Trashing the Beach

Problem:
Trash on the beach is an affront to everything that makes Long Beach Long Beach. So today, when three guests of the Allegria Hotel left their valet-assembled chaise lounges and headed back to their rooms, I called the concierge desk to complain about the newspapers, water bottles and other refuse they left behind on the sand. It took only a minute for two hotel staffers to head down to survey the damage, but instead of cleaning up, they about-faced and left the mess to bob on the incoming tide.

Solution:
Along with beach towels, sun shades and umbrellas, the Allegria should provide trash bags, or even designer receptacles, to make sure that their guests leave our beach in the same condition in which they find it.  And they should train their beach staff in the common courtesies that will enable the hotel to thrive as a welcome and valued member of the community.