Blogs Belmar's latest weapon in battle with rowdy renters

Blogs Belmar's latest weapon in battle with rowdy renters
Posted by the Asbury Park Press on 07/30/07
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

BELMAR — Belmar Benny sat down at his computer and tapped out his prediction of what the summer of 2007 would be like at the group rental he shares with his buddies by recalling last year.

"Partying 'till daylight, banging pots and pans together, tossing the kitchen table on the roof, hanging the furniture upside down from the ceiling, waking up the neighborhood with a contraption called The Horn On A Board, smashing glassware over each other's heads," he wrote.

But Belmar officials were reading his blog as well, promising to counter "Horn On A Board" with their own favorite: "Cop On Your Porch."

Monitoring blogs is the newest tactic in Belmar's long-running effort to keep its notoriously rowdy group rentals under control in one of the Jersey shore's last true party towns.

The borough's efforts are led by a bike-riding mayor who patrols the street looking for trouble, and backed by stiff fines that can easily reach into the thousands of dollars. Police officers hand-deliver lists of do's and don't to renters, and a Web site in which troublesome rentals are plotted on a map and marked with icons showing the face of Police Chief Wiggum from "The Simpsons."

"It's all about peaceful coexistence," said Mayor Ken Pringle. "We're not trying to make Belmar into a sleepy town. We just want it to be able to sleep."

But that's easier said than done in certain neighborhoods here, where large groups of young adults drink, party and generally raise a ruckus with little regard for the fact that not everyone on the block likes or wants to hear the Beastie Boys fight for their right to party at 4 a.m.

It's a battle that Belmar has been winning over the past two decades. Located five miles south of Asbury Park, Belmar has 7,000 year-round residents, but its population swells to 60,000 in the summer.

In 1990, there were over 1,200 summer rental units here; now there are just over 300. Lots that once held ramshackle party huts now boast $800,000 homes whose residents are not shy about calling the police to complain about noise.

"This past weekend it was nice weather, and you want to sleep with your windows open, except for all the people yelling and screaming," said Esther Spivak, who has lived for 21 years on a street with some of the worst group rentals. "I said "forget it' and put the air conditioning on. And even then, when the bars let out, I still got woken up with all the people yelling outside, and the taxis pulling up and slamming doors. I woke up exhausted the next day."

This summer, Pringle started writing a weekly online newsletter that was also printed and distributed to summer renters. Besides information on city ordinances and services (garbage pickup and recycling dates, among others), the newsletter also smacks violators with a different type of trash talk from the mayor.

One particular cluster of renters received their fifth summons of the summer less than a month after moving in. Pringle wrote that they give "new meaning to the term "

slow learners.' Or maybe they're just extremely wealthy. Whatever they're thinking (or more likely, not thinking), we'll be more than happy to keep taking their money at the violations window in Borough Hall."

The newsletter also points out many of the tough measures Belmar has taken in recent years, including hiring off-duty sheriff's officers to stand directly outside the rowdiest houses — at $1,000 per weekend, billed against the landlord's security bond. There are 78 Category 1 "Animal Houses" in Belmar, the scenes of repeated quality of life convictions.

Not everyone appreciates the humor. Kevin Fay, who owns two rental properties, said Pringle's tone is insulting and is scaring away tourists.

"Instead of saying, "Welcome to Belmar, please obey our laws and regulations,' he hits them over the head with a sledgehammer and says, "Leave your money at the curb and leave town,' " Fay said.

Pringle said the real estate market has made it more profitable for landowners to knock down party shacks and build year-round houses, a trend that is sweeping Belmar. Conversely, rowdy rentals can bring down the property values of an entire block or even a whole street, he said.

To prevent that from happening, Belmar can be quick to slap a summons on someone who violates one of its many rules, including not having a summer rental do's and don'ts poster hanging on an inside wall, playing "beer pong" or having an inflatable swimming pool on the front lawn, putting trash or recyclables out too soon, or in the wrong type of container, or without a borough-supplied orange tag affixed. Fines run from $250 to $2,000.

Any house that was the subject of a noise complaint gets a dawn visit the next morning by a code inspector. And Belmar assesses higher fines for noise violations as the hour gets later — a borrowed idea from a local bar that raises drink prices with each passing hour on "Beat The Clock Night." So, a shouted curse that costs $350 at 11 p.m. would cost $750 by 2 a.m.

Despite the blizzard of summonses falling down on his neighbors, 23-year-old Josh Seery of Robbinsville and his housemates are having a blast this summer, mainly by following one simple rule.

"Just don't be stupid," he said. "Have fun, but be respectful. We know not to have too many people over, especially people we don't even know. That's when things get out of hand."

Belmar Benny realizes borough police are serious about locking up troublemakers.

"A friend of mine once got arrested and spent the night in a municipal court cell," Benny wrote on his blog. "He said it was the quietest night of sleep he ever got in Belmar!"