Literary Works By Bradley Beach NJ Writers.
The High Five + One By Milton Edelman
The High Five + One
Count them, five men who meet regularly for the sole purpose of comradeship and belly laughs. The five, + one of course, diverse from one another as humanly possible, provide ingredients for a total insanity stew.
Rules of the "club": Interrupt at will. Say anything outrageous, unspeakable, hilarious, crazy ----otherwise just shut and listen!.
The five are Wayne, Patrick, Bernard, Andy and Me Milton and The Plus One in Anthony.
Wayne, Minister, Bishop as well, talks endlessly on all subjects, divine, profane or fire-brimstone holy hell.
Patrick, Capitalistic writer, moralist, an artist vulnerable to feminine allure, interrupts the discourse with his own special agenda.
Bernard, Capitalist as well, a passionate Gaulist, more tolerant, laid back, tries to keep this mutinous crew from sinking the ship.
Andy, wild card Artist/Sculptor/Philosopher apprentice Exorcist, comes up with subjects nobody understands ---voo-doo, religion, eroticism, causing group pandemonium..
Me(Milton) Renegade Deity, romantic interlocutor a creative Photographer par-excellence,maintains semblance of order interjecting subtle blasphemous utterances mixed with bliss-phamy, sustaining a turbulent ferment..
+one Anthony was a add on after the writing of this story so I will have to tell you more later but he is also a capitalist and Photographer par-excellence, as well as the expert on Picasa photo system.
It is but a pity these mangled encounters are not taped or recorded by a Secretary. Such would provide X-rated morsels for the internet blogs--- unfortunately none of these vigorous dinosaurs know mush about computers. with the exception of Wayne and Anthony
After two hours plus of unrelenting madness, they return to lives of fantasy, hoping to survive until next session. This incorrigible geriatric insurgency longs for feminine intellectual stimulation of their proceedings.
By Milton Edelman
February 5767
The Unsung Heroes of Fourth Ave.
Photo of James Gorman He is Doing The Dance of The Drums
The Unsung Heroes of Fourth Ave.
By James Gorman
Fourth Ave. and Ocean Ave. in Bradley Beach is where I spend my summer days. I endure
a long cold winter, dreaming of hot summer beach days. I usually sit on the beach
five yards to the left of the lifeguard stand. Sooner or later, we all become creatures of habit.
I would not consider myself an avid ocean swimmer, but I am a person that understands the power
and beauty of the endless surf. A fifteen year old boy drowned in a riptide before Memorial Day
when there were no lifeguards on duty. It’s a reminder that resonates with you and stays in your
thoughts. Lifeguards are specimens of good looking tanned youth in physical shape.
Guys ogle female lifeguards while girls check over the male lifeguards. Much of the time
is spent blowing their whistle and flagging swimmers to move over to the designated swimming area.
They have to answer a series of questions that run the gamut from “Are there any sharks in the
water today?” to “What kind of tide is it and when is it going to change?” Or ,they may have to
help a crying lost child find their parents.
If you go to the beach on a daily basis, one day you will see it happen. Far off in the distant surf someone waves their hands and yells for help while trying not to swallow the salty water. A
lifeguard’s whistle goes off and almost like a knee jerk reaction, two lifeguards simultaneously jump 6 feet from their chair. They run from two 45 degree angles 75 yards through the thick hot sand. Within seconds they are swimming 150 yards out through the cold pounding waves. In what seems like a blink of an eye, a body filled with fear and panic will get another chance at life.
Make no doubt about it this is the time, when all the teamwork and rigorous trainings to meet the
high standards their job demands pay off.
In closing, I would like to raise a toast to the lifeguards of Fourth Ave and all lifeguards who risk
their lives so your life won’t be at risk. The next time you are sunning or swimming at the beach
make it a point to walk up to a lifeguard’s chair and say
“Thanks for doing a great job and watching my back.
The End
