My Hometown + Guidos = MTV’s Easiest Show Ever
By Jeff on Nov 11, 2009 in Daily Distractions | 7 Comments
First off, LOVE the giant pit stain, sir. Okay, I wish I could say this is not a fair representation Belmar, NJ, or that the network must have hired actors because these 20-somethings seem more like broad-based characters than actual sentient human beings, but no, this is the real dopey deal.
MTV producers did not have to stage any antics or coax any performances out of these always-animated, fist-pumping gorillas and perma-bronzed, high-heeled guidettes. Just watching them in their natural habitat, performing the ritual dances and aggressive mating habits is entertainment enough.
I grew up in Belmar and have witnessed the guido lifestyle from a safe distance, usually a block or two away. (“Guido” once a derogatory term used by the locals, has now been embraced by those who partake in the culture.) I lived on Tenth Ave. (the unofficial dividing line between year-rounds and rentals) and we had our fair share of rental properties crammed with these roid-enhanced interlopers from North Jersey and New York. Wiffle ball and Yankee caps all day, D’Jais and confrontations all night. Miller Lite $3 Bottles.
Oddly enough, out of all my years at the Jersey Shore (I still spend many weekends there in the Summer), I have only made verbal contact with the male species once or twice. The females wanted no part of a skinny Irish kid and I am pretty certain I have never spoken to one. The townies and the overly-tanned tourists rarely mixed, different bars, different beaches… very S. E. Hinton.
One time a giant guido grabbed me in the water and asked me to teach him and his buddies how to body surf. I obliged out of fear. An hour later only one of the three picked up the tricks and proper technique (I was amazed they were even buoyant), but they were having more fun busting each other’s balls in a very boisterous manner (read: generous amount of F-bombs) and not caring how silly they looked. I had a good time as well. They were funny guys.
Way back when, when I was always bothered by these overly-muscled miscreants,, I thought it would be fun to go to Mike’s Pizza around 4:00 am on Saturday with my friends and capture a real live guido (promised slices, a club and a large net) and then chain it up in a garage (think “38 Days Later” with the zombie captured by the evil army guys) and poke it with a stick for a while. Good clean fun. We’d release it back on to 17th and B Street the next morning. Safe in Sound, porkroll and cheese in its hand, cigarette too. Oh, and it would be tagged for later research… and maybe neutered.
My feelings have changed over the years and I have grown to enjoy them. Sure they can be a real pain in the ass — they aren’t the tidiest or quietest bunch and they can make a Sunday morning coffee run to Freedman’s or Belmar Bagels an aggravating adventure — but they keep to themselves for the most part, and the males usually only fight other males of their ilk. Usually.
Like most young people, they are just looking for some fun and a place to let loose. And dance. Their sweaty asses off. Belmar just happens to be their Shangri-La. Yay Belmar!
Sure they look ridiculous to the average “shore” person (especially the new orange-skinned breed with the Gotti Jr. haircuts, yikes!) but they make for great people watching and I will actually tune into the 24-hour horror show known as MTV for the first time in many years to gawk at the shenanigans and hum a few bars of “My Hometown” in honor.
(Thanks to fellow Belmartian Wave of The Present for the video link.)
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