THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, July 14, 1995 TAG: 9507130174
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: JO-ANN CLEGG
LENGTH: Medium: 93 lines
Our next-door neighbor, Borrowing George, leaned back on a lounge chair, popped a couple of corn chips into his mouth, looked up at the sky and uttered what has become all too common a sentiment among those of us who live west of the 23451 ZIP code.
``You know,'' B.G. said, ``we never come out here to the Oceanfront in the summertime anymore. It's too crowded and it's too danged hard to find a parking space.''
At the time he uttered those words he, his wife, Patient Suzanne, Bill and I were borrowing a North End roof deck from some friends who were out of town.
B.G., never one to turn down the opportunity to borrow something, had quickly accepted the invitation and the four of us had parked in our friends' driveway and climbed up to the deck to watch the Oceanfront fireworks show.
As it turned out, the fireworks were sort of forgettable from our vantage point that night. The wind direction was such that after the first round all we could see were a few bursts of light behind a large cloud of dark smoke, which was making its way northward.
However, George's words about never going to the Oceanfront in the summertime kept coming back to me, especially as I made my way around the Strip while working on a story about trolley cars last week.
George isn't the only person in the western part of the city, particularly in the Kempsville area, who feels that way. Part of what we feel over here may be a reaction to those living east of the Pavilion who take pride in saying things like: ``I never go to Kempsville, there's nothing out there worth fighting the traffic for.''
The way I see it, both groups are wrong.
I won't use space here to defend Kempsville, mainly because I've done it before. It took a whole column to tell the town what's nice about us and our neighborhood.
As far as the Oceanfront is concerned, however, I'd like to urge anyone who hasn't given it a try recently to do so. It is not the same strip you remember with tacky signs, overhead utility wires and filthy T-shirts.
To borrow a phrase from the Monopoly cards, take a walk on the Boardwalk. Check out the outdoor cafes - one every block, it seems - that have sprung up on what used to the backs of the Oceanfront hotels. The food is universally good (some very good), the prices are reasonable and the view of the ocean is spectacular.
Take time to check out those whimsical sea creatures that seem to have sprouted overnight in the stub streets between Atlantic Avenue and the Boardwalk.
The tourists love them; you will, too. I saw a little kid from Pennsylvania hugging a big blue molded fish last week. ``He wants to take it home with him,'' his mother said as she tried to entice him away from the statue with the promise of an ice cream cone.
``Take fishy,'' the kid wailed. ``We don't have anything like this back in Altoona,'' his mother said somewhat apologetically.
If you walk farther than you intended to, go over to Atlantic Avenue and ride a trolley back. Two days of parking my car and riding them made a believer out of me. It's 50 cents to board, $2.50 for a pass that will let you ride anywhere in the resort all day, half fare for seniors and those with proof of a disability.
Go out in the evening and catch the shows at the 17th and 24th street stages.
I ran into a family of campers from Ohio on my tour last Wednesday.
``Can you believe we got to see Frankie Valli for free right there in that park the other night?'' the mother asked me as the trolley passed 24th Street.
I told her that, not only could I believe it, but if they wanted to hear some of the best concert band music this side of the Boston Pops, they should come out to the park that same evening to catch Sidney Berg and the Tidewater Winds.
The visitors took my advice, showed up and agreed with my assessment of the Winds.
``You're lucky to have all of this,'' the dad said. ``We could have listened to that band all night. Sure wish we were going to be around for the rest of their concerts.''
I told him that I'd think about them a little before 7 every Wednesday evening this month when Bill and I plop our lawn chairs down in the park and wait for the show to begin.
That reminded me that I'll have to tell Borrowing George about the Tidewater Winds concerts, too. Which I will do just as soon as he comes over to return our hedge clippers.
And I'll have another piece of information for him, as well. Parking's a heck of a lot easier these days than it used to be, what with municipal lots on Pacific Avenue at 19th and 25th streets.
It's cheaper, too. If you've got a city sticker, it's a flat $1 per car after 5 p.m. And now you don't even have to pay a toll to get there.
Now that's a bargain even in George's book. by CNB