It was late summer 2021; that blissful, post-vaccination period a friend referred to as “shot girl summer.” We were finally able to leave the house, cross state lines, and go on our first vacation in years. In our early days as a couple, we bonded over our shared love of amusing kitsch and sleazy beach towns, later seeking out heart-shaped hot tubs, jungle-themed hotel rooms, and places you can drink piña coladas out of souvenir cups in the street. We did a little research and came across the town of Wildwood, NJ. After binging three seasons of Jersey Shore, we had been dying to get down there. Wildwood looked like it would have it all: neon lit balconies steps from the beach, a historic district of mid-century modern architecture, a bustling boardwalk selling regional delicacies and novelty entertainment… the list goes on.
Aaaaaaaand our yuppie asses got a big wake up call. We pulled up to our digs: The Pink Champagne Motel. We were steps from the beach, but also the expo center hosting a packed convention of those decked-out 2000s sedans with backfiring exhaust systems. Hundreds of them. The architecture of the
city, affectionately known as “doo wop architecture,” was giving less “googie” and more Johnny Rockets — which is honestly still a pretty good vibe. Our fluorescent lit hotel room looked like it was cleaned by a dude in his early 20s: little curly hairs in the drain and in every corner (in the bed, even!). We have a habit of spending money on things for a laugh, but this time, the joke had gone a little too far.
We decided to go for a stroll to the Doo-Wop Museum and immediately heard the theme song of Wildwood blasting out of a couple of rock-shaped speakers at the intersection. The singer, Bobby Rydell, claims “every night is Saturday night,” baby!! And they don’t let you forget it in Wildwood. That song plays on repeat and it rules. We spent the next 36 hours checking out the boardwalk, eating crap, getting tired, and roasting in our motel room before we decided to get out of dodge from our own vacation.
Long story short, we head out south on the shore, Travis takes us to an estate jewelry store to scope out engagement rings, we see an old ring with birds on it (we are birders), Carrie weeps profusely, and Travis buys it on the spot. The shopkeepers give us a discount because we are covered in sand and wearing our flip flops (we must have really looked like shit). Travis promises to propose at a later date. We celebrate at Menz Restaurant (highly recommend), stuffing our faces amidst the shelves of taxidermy. He proposed a month later, and that is what our song “Diamond” is about.
We’d like to thank Alex Bliss, a great filmmaker and friend of the band, for making this amazing video for us. Shout out to Lena Englestein for movement direction, and Ian Faria for ADing.
(Photo Credit: left, Steph Rinzler)