by Christine Bruness

Created on: June 03, 2008

Essays: Conflict

"SAVING OUR SEAS, ONE JELLYFISH AT A TIME"

Observations on Beach Behavior at the Jersey Shore

"That thing is ugly!" A tan, blonde, woman with a prominent gold cross around her neck yelled. She and her two blonde, tan children joined in the "festivities" of using broken sea shells to stab a jellyfish that the tide washed to shore. "Yuck! Take that!" She said as she drove the shell into the creature.

In a society where statistics have proven time and time again that cruelty to animals exhibited by children often leads to violent behavior towards humans in later years, I could hardly believe what I had just witnessed. I was also horrified that this "beautiful" woman felt the need to annihilate a living creature simply because it was unappealing to her.

I ran over to the jellyfish and scooped it into my hands. I threw it into the ocean and hoped that its last moments of existence would not be of having some Christian family stabbing it to death.

"You should teach your children to respect nature!" I scolded the woman. She looked aghast. She grabbed her children and ran away. I would imagine that it is not every day that someone who looks like the offspring of Keith Richards and Vampira successfully aborts a Christian-family's jellyfish-killing-fun-time.

Later in the day, a super-hairy, extra-large Joey Buttafucco look-a-like in red, French-cut Speedos (I'm not kidding, folks) loudly burped and announced, "I'm
done." He crumpled his fast-food wrappers and threw them at an elderly couple in front of him. "You like that?" He taunted the elderly man who turned his way to see why garbage was thrown at him.

Equally disturbing to me were the amount of able bodied males who clearly appeared unhappy with the situation but were too cowardly to act - mostly aging Baby Boomers who, no doubt, have mastered the art of keeping their mouths shut and kissing the right hides in hopes of getting a promotion to pay for that BMW they always dreamed of parading around in; men who trade their integrity for gadgets they don't need. Yes, there must have been a Boomer-professional-do-nothing-convention nearby because they were all on the beach with me that sunny afternoon.

I looked over at the newly installed police substation. The young male officer was laughing it up with two scantily clad female teenagers. Certainly that type of personal bonding took priority over the dismal situation on the beach. Incidentally, the taxpayers of this particular town not only had to

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