People come to Atlantic City for the casinos, such as they are. For the entertainment, such as it is. To walk on the boardwalk. For the history? Probably not so much. Does anyone come for the minor thrill of driving, or walking, on streets as familiar as Atlantic Ave., Ventnor Ave., Mediterranean and Baltic? Virginia, Pennsylvania and North Carolina avenues? St. Charles Place and States Ave.?
Somebody must have done that. Yes, and of course put it on YouTube. Still, spotting Monopoly properties while in Atlantic City isn’t going to be a priority, or even a passing thought, for most people. I didn’t have a methodical approach myself, but if you drive around much in Atlantic City, you will see some of the streets.
For the city, it’s a missed opportunity. The street signs are white on green, as street signs usually are. More artful honorary signs could acknowledge the game, including the appropriate colors. Or would Hasbro object? Could Hasbro object, legally speaking? A question well beyond my abilities to answer, but object? That company, owner of Parker Bros.’ intellectual property, ought to share the cost of the signs. Ought to pay for them, considering the long-lasting and absolutely unique form of advertising that would represent.
City of Missed Opportunities. There’s a nickname that suits Atlantic City. Not that I didn’t enjoy my early spring walk along the Broadwalk or, for that matter, the long drive down a lightly traveled Atlantic Ave. The town might not be the louche upmarket place it was when Steve Buscemi ran it, but here in the 21st century, it still has its tattered charms. And unexpected sights, such as Batman on the Boardwalk.
There I was, resting a bit on a bench, and along came the Caped Crusader.
He was an anomaly. The thin ranks of passersby that day on the boardwalk pretty much blended in with each other. The walk itself is impressively long and wide.
Like a lot of things, the boardwalk is always under construction somewhere.
Steel Pier. Counts as an amusement park.
There’s an actual beach out there, though the chill of the day left it even emptier than the boardwalk.
I didn’t venture very far out on the beach myself, though far enough to enjoy views of the skyline, such as it is. Mostly casinos.
Vestiges of earlier Atlantic City iterations still line the boardwalk.
This one had a special flair.
The Boardwalk National Bank? Known as the Arcade Building. These days, HQ of the New Jersey Casino Control Commission. The commission’s web site tells us: “The Boardwalk Arcade Building was built in Atlantic City’s roaring heyday before the Great Depression. The bustling Boardwalk National Bank had outgrown its space in a local hotel and decided to build a new headquarters at Tennessee Avenue and the Boardwalk. It was a time when the boardwalk was a major vacation and entertainment hub – the place to see and be seen.
“The two-story high, barrel-vaulted arch at the boardwalk entrance defined the building. The bank’s name is permanently embedded in the terrazzo and if you look closely, you can also see the coat of arms with the initials ‘BNB,’ held by two figures that could be King Neptune.”
More.
The boardwalk is only a part of Atlantic City, a fairly small place (pop. 38,400) that — away from the boardwalk — manages the ragged, urban look of larger places. Actually there’s a bit of that on the boardwalk itself, but at least the place isn’t overrun by mall-suitable chain stores.
Headed for the causeway out of town, I made a stop at the Absecon Island lighthouse.
I might have known it, but I’d forgotten the city is on a barrier island, like Galveston: Absecon Island. At 171 feet, the lighthouse, dating from the 1850s, is the tallest in New Jersey. Not used for navigation any more, but a museum. Closed for the season.