Identity Aplenty To Go Around

I keep hearing from locals, “Oh you’re new here? Just you wait until it slows down. Pretty soon you’ll be able to roll a bowling ball down Route 9. I’m telling you, it’s like a ghost town during the offseason.”
Though I’ve absolutely seen a significant decrease in traffic and an extreme minimizing of bike riders and beach goers since Labor Day, I have to be honest, it still feels like your average, thriving, run-of-the-mill type, slice of Americana community out there. The way some people talk though, I have to wonder when the tumbleweeds will roll in to replace the tourists.
I do like the fact that there seem to be more year-round residents down here than I originally thought. I also appreciate that the towns put on a festival or three each weekend. Selfishly, the continuing activities get me out of the house but more importantly, they drive the “second season.” I’ve now attended the Irish and Italian festivals in Wildwood, Oktoberfest at the airport, Harvest Festival in Court House and the Seafood Festival in Avalon. For the most part, they lived up to their names (with apologies to Deutschland and the boot) but I have to wonder, what happens when the festivals end?
I understand that the holiday (third?) season is pretty huge down here as well and Cape May turns into Christmas Village, more or less. I’m not incredibly religious but I do enjoy a grand spectacle of colorful lights and merriment as much as the next guy.
OK so next up is New Years but that’s just one long night and one longer day. When the opening weeks of 2014 spread themselves out toward MLK day, is that when we can go bowling in the streets? Or is there some grand Valentine’s parade in February where all the tourists come back again to catch a glimpse of the scantily clad Cupid?
The reason I ask is not to be difficult. I’m only trying to get a sense of the year-round structure of living in an area that prides itself on being a desirable vacation destination for much of the Northeast and beyond. Catering to friends from afar is obviously a large part of the identity here—but that can’t be all. You can’t define yourself by those who come to visit. Can you?
Bird watchers are fascinating (stay with me). I have little interest in the pastime myself but a great respect for those who enjoy it. No doubt they find peace often in the solitude of the marshes as they spot the rarest of rare of their fine-feathered friends. Could this ornithological niche be a secondary characteristic of Cape May’s identity? In an article the Herald ran on Nov. 6, Tormod Amundsen, a birder from Norway, enlightened readers that there is an untapped market here. In England, he said, one yellow-rumped warbler would attract thousands of bird watchers. He mentioned this because on the previous day, Cape May was host to a flock of over 15,000 of this special breed. And that’s just one example of the great variety of bird species we have to offer. It doesn’t take a math whiz to do a quick estimation and realize the insane amount of Euros a little global marketing initiative could bring in.
But wait… I’m still talking about others visiting and encroaching on our as yet unnamed distinguishability. If we go and shout across the pond that anyone interested in taking wing and making a big dent in their “big year” should fly post haste to Exit 0 then we’re moving even further away from having an identity unto our own. Who are we if not gracious hosts?
I heart golf (and non sequiturs, apparently). Never before have I imagined myself striving for par and perfecting my putts. But since recently making my home here I find myself making my way slowly but surely through the woods and the rough most weekends. As frustrating as it can be as a beginner, I feel a certain serenity once or twice a round that has more to do with the crispness of the air than a long, solid drive from my 3-wood (though that certainly doesn’t counter the calming effect either). But do you know what attracted me to the golf course first? It was the fact that there are so many of them down here that I found it hard not to stumble onto one! Golfers seem to be in a league of their own — a community within the community. They have their own identity and their own language and the public courses are open to anyone from near and far. Locals share the greens with tourists and get to know different people from all over and… oh… there’s that shared identity again.
Is Cape May County’s identity destined to be shared with those who don’t live here? I don’t think it’s so awful to be viewed as a prime vacation spot. We should feel thankful to reside here and be able to share our beaches, festivals, birds, and golf courses with all who make the trip down. I mean… they are just visiting but we get to live here!
I suppose I’m still somewhat of a tourist as I ooh and ahh over the multitudes of activities but as I see it, whether the population is jumping in July or frozen in February there seems to be plenty to do for an average year-round citizen if you don’t mind sharing the fun with one and all. There’s identity aplenty to go around.