Jenn Hampton’s groundbreaking work as GM of the original Asbury Lanes, which was created during the height of ruin, served as an indispensable stalwart in the history of Asbury Park. During her tenure, she created a cult of cool clubhouse that perfectly captured the potently raw meeting of music and art. In the eleven years at Asbury Lanes, Jenn helped to create anational and international fan base of performers, bandsand burlesque acts, in addition to creating an innovative galleryprogram thatfocused on young art collectors. The success ofAsbury Lanes helped to create a destination in Asbury Park for music lovers, artists and performers from all over the country. She and her partner, artist Jill Ricci, opened Parlor Gallery in 2009 featuring innovative work by some of the best emerging and established artists. Over the past five years, Hampton has been entrusted by national real estate developer Madison Marquette, one of the leaddevelopersin Asbury Park, to create and curate the Wooden WallsProject, a public arts program that showcases murals andpublic art on theAsbury Park Boardwalk. Wooden Walls has beenthe recipient of international acclaim and isAsbury Park’s greatest social media calling card. Boy Scout talked to Hampton about psychological puzzles, basement shows and social media soul.
Boy Scout: If you arrived in Abury Park in 2019 filled with great ambition, how might you ascend to your artistic summit?
Jenn Hampton: Asbury Park. I like “Howwould I ascend to my artistic summit?” Does anyone ever have a summit? I feellikethat's the beauty of being a creative. You don't know where you ever getto? So, I guess if I came to Asbury Park in 2019, I wouldlook at the historyof the culture, and all the wonderful things that have happened musically, andI would jar to try to put AsburyPark on the map or other creative endeavors. So,I would focus on art, I would focus on performance art, and theater, and try toelevate what people think of New Jersey… and I know that that's a huge,daunting task… but I think that if I got here today, thatthat would be thefirst thing I would do is try to show people that there's a whole bunch ofcreative endeavors that have beenovershadowed by that history and people arelike “Where’s Asbury Park? What's that? Isthat where Bruce Springsteen's from?”that should not be the only thingthat lies in the history of Asbury Park.
Boy Scout:In a time of faltering news platforms, transient facts and generations who opt for digital currency over great literature, how will the stories of those that came before us survive?
Jenn Hampton: I have say about “fakenews” and “false narratives,” and sadly Asbury Park suffers from all of those things…Ithink that it's a small microcosm of a national sort of crisis that I thinkthat we have. What's interesting, that not to diverge to goforward, there's awoman in town who started a temporary museum, and when you walk through as acreative you see thatyou're long and a line of lineage of people that you'venever heard of because there was no technology then. There was a writtenrecordbut only so many people have had it and a lot of people have died off. So, Ithink that the only thing that we have in thissort of platform today is whatwe do to inspire others to create.
Boy Scout: With the eradication of many of Asbury Park’s cultural landmarks through hyper-gentrification, an act that seems to be eroding the soul of many cultural capitals, will our artistic heritages henceforth be confined to yellowing newsprint and the libraries of the past?
For instance, I worked on a project called Asbury Lanes with my friendsand we had a decade of creative endeavors. And then,when it closed, I realizedthat without that platform how will the true story go on? Of course, there arethe myths -- and we alllove myths -- and so the myths turn into this othernarrative (that may or may not happen) so that's also the flip side. It can goboth ways. It can be this grand thing that happened, and people remember itbetter than it was (or tried to knock off and knockout that history). But the onlything you really have, are the people that take that experience with it.
I think that the challenge with hyper gentrification is that “falsenarrative” that people have to spin to create the hypergentrification for theenergy of money. Basically, being a creative that's in it and seeing other creatives go through it in otherplaces likeDetroit, and downtown Los Angeles, and obviously New York, you do feel hopelessto some degree because youdon't know how you can combat big business. I thinkthe best way that any creative can stop it, is to continue doing what theydo. Followtheir own path, and their own trajectory, and everything comes around becauseeverything's a cycle. So, for instancein Asbury Park, where many feel likethis is the Renaissance, I feel like it's the Dark Ages. Everything is the same.If you look atthe hashtags of Asbury Park it could be anywhere in the country.Asbury Park will find its way back to that sort of fun status quo,so to speak,and I think that I just might take a while because it was the un-status quo forso long, that the status quo now seemsunfamiliar to many. For the creative,it's really important to stay the path, and trust in the path, and trust in thecycle, and knowthat you just do your part to be honest to yourself in yourcraft, and it will others will catch up.
Boy Scout: As a seminal figure in Asbury Park, where do you find your motivating heartbeat? Is there still a living, breathing musical and artistic culture?
Jenn Hampton: “Seminal figure” is a funnyword, a funny phrase. I think that what happens, as I kind of reference tocreatives,because I think they all kind of are fed by the beat of their own drum...
The sad part, for me currently, is that for a very long time (andnote I've only been here for 14 years… It's not a very long timebut it feelslike a very long time in Asbury Park) The challenges were always, we have theland, we have the enthusiasm, there'speople here that want to make stuffhappen. In Asbury, It would just take one person to inspire two people, to getfive peopleinterested and say “Hey, myuncle has this building...” and I feel like that could happen at any time. Yousee little things that popup and do that could be something…
The challenge is, you're facing so many things that sort ofcontradict, you have to focus on the ones that you have. You have tolook atyour own environment, and your own tribe, and your own community, and say “Okay,where can I go to get the supportthat I need to do these things because I seewhat we need?” Sadly, or not sadly, I've hit the point in the road where I needsomebody that knows how to be creative in business, and go to toe withdevelopment and make the understand that the artisticpassions and endeavors ofa town being sold-on needs to happen and needs to be present. I do believe thatperson exists butwhere there used to be large peaks of inspiration and doers,there are now just consumers. As a doer that is dependent onconsumers, it's achallenge for me currently in the status quo of Asbury Park. I need to surroundmyself by doers because thoseare the people who inspire you. I always say, it'slike you're at a party and there's nobody in the room that does something betterthan you… you're at the wrong party.
If I was in development, I would be surrounded by my peers, andthis would probably be a really lovely time to be here. But as acreative,there's not anyone, sadly right now, that’s inspiring me… except kids who throwbasement shows… and when I saykids, I mean anybody under 50… Or, people thatdo art in the dead of night. Or, people that are like “Hey, let's go into thisabandoned place and throw an art show…”and that does still happen from time-to-time …so, I think the trick is alwaysaligningyourself with people that push you to do the things that you neverthought you could do.
I used to be inspired by the peopleof Asbury Park, because those were the people that lived here 15 years ago, becausetheydidn't want the same thing that others sort of wanted. A safe town by theshore. They liked the decay. They liked the emptycanvas or blank canvas, so tospeak. Obviously, the creative I find inspiration in is the ocean, and that'sthe mother of all….
Boy Scout: The late Harry Dean Stanton believed “Everything is predestined. Nothing is important. Life is an illusion. It’s all a movie. Nobody’s in charge” which is lovingly referred to as his Appreciation of Nothing. Do you have a guiding life philosophy that keeps you on the path?
Jenn Hampton: I find it verynecessary to my experience on this planet to surround myself with the creativeforces that makepaintings and sculptures. You know, do graffiti and put up a wheatpaste,but at the end of the day, if you want to get, like, deepinto the spirituals….“What do we need? What is real? Is any ofit real?” It's really interesting to the psychology -- and this is asortof off the point-- but the psychology of art watching people pick art. Learningthat these are just things that we surroundourselves, feed our narrative ofthe story that we give ourselves for this lifetime. What's challenging to me aboutthat is like“Everything is nothing.” I used to think “Well, destiny is preordained… and if I sit in a room… I mean by thistheory, I could just sitin a room and the universe will find me.” I realize,getting older, is that's not necessarily true. There are things that I believearepre-ordained. I do think that everything seems to be like a puzzle. I usedto be very challenged by doing puzzles. Growing up inwestern Pennsylvania whenit would snow, a lot of people would sit around and do puzzles, which isterrifying to me.
I would watch how people would sit there and stare at thispuzzle. They'd stare at these little pieces “No, it’s this one!” andthensomeone would interject and say “No, it'snot. That's the wrong piece!” “No! This is the piece!” and then an hourlater theywould find the right piece, which was not the first or second, andthen they'd be on their way. They would finish like a wholesection of thepuzzle. So, I'm realizing that if you pay attention, you see how people, andplaces, and things, and experiencesare these pieces of puzzle. You might meetsomebody that you think is life-changing, and yeah, they might be life-changing,butnot in the experience that you want them to be. Whether it's a love interest,or a business interest, and you see how peoplecome in and out of your life toadvance you, or you to advance them.
I think the hardest thing for me is being passive in thatexperience and trusting that everything has its past, and it's time, and itspurpose. Because the timing is everything. To reference back to the Asbury Lanes,would that experience and the way that weran a performance space, work in aworld where we are now surrounded by corporate music? The answer is “No!” Unless,wehad somebody that would back us financially because we couldn't compete withthe guarantees... Unless made a relationshipwith the band that they loved usso much, and I do believe that could be true. But, timing is everything. Wewere just around at atime where no agents were paying attention. Bands were payingattention. Now, agents pay attention. They realize there'smoney to be madehere. And so, the music changes…
My mom and dad wereBuddhist so they tried to instill two things in me. I love them dearly, but itdoesn't helpyou learn to live in this world. The two things that theyinstilled in me were “you should always follow your bliss” and “the onlythingthat's worth for any currency in the world is love.” Giving to people and receiving,and treating people how you want to betreated, and making sure love goesaround and around. So, those are the things that I try to remember when doinganything anyendeavors that I do.
Boy Scout: Was there a moment in your artistic life where you took an out-of-character risk and it transformed you?
Jenn Hampton: Forever, and ever, andever, I just assumed, and was pursuing, and was trying to manifest being anactress. So,many times I would find myself in situations where I was trying to,sort of, fake my way into workshops. For me, that was out-of-character to nottell the truth. You know, “I'm going to do it my way! I'm going to work withDavid Lynch! And I'm not going to quituntil I work with David Lynch!” You thinkthat by making that act of defiance, thinking that you're going to do it some waydifferentthan anybody else did. I say that because there's no way the personJen was 14 years ago would have said “yes” ... “Hey, doyou want to run a bowling alley that we turned into a performancevenue?” There was something inside of me that was like “Well,you've beentrying to get yourself connected to David Lynch for seven years now… This kindof sounds like it could be the plot ofa David Lynch film. A person who stumblesacross an empty bowling alley that has magical sort of transformative qualities…”Using the bowling alley referencing as if it's a character in a movie and forthose who have ever seen the Asbury Lanes, it was acharacter in a movie. It wasits own character, the structure.
And so, at the time when I was offered this opportunity, to dowhat you want and see where it leads (without any thought offailure, orsuccess, for that matter) was probably the most transformative thing becauseyou are so focused on making it becomesuccessful in your mind (whatever successfulmeans), not for yourself, but for a whole community of people. Because you wantto see a place where performance art can happen. You want to see a place wherethere isn't structure in terms of “Here's thesecurity guy at the door who'sgoing to be all gruff and make you feel uncomfortable.” I wanted a place wherethere's an all-female staff that accepts candy is currency. You want a placewhere it's so ridiculous that you can't believe it exists.
I think for me, it was a decade of not listening to the inner partof your brain, for better for worse. “Thisis a bad idea, this is agreat idea, this is a bad idea this is a great idea.”I sort of made peace with that inner struggle and just started saying “Yes, sureyeah let's do that. Yeah! Let's dothat. Yeah, I can run this place. Yeah, I know how to do an LLC! Yeah, I can dothat!” Withhaving no clue… The girl that walked in those doors was not necessarilysomebody that would like get down on the bathroomfloor and scrub it becauseshe wants Kathleen Hanna to be happy. Taking on new risks: i.e. paying bandsreally high guarantees,going to the town to fight about why we need to do “Sex,Toy, Bingo,” or why burlesque needs to happen in a town that has ahistory of burlesque.It's an out-of-body experience. Because you become this person, that when you stepback and you look atthat person, you're like “Who is that?”
If anybody has an opportunity in their life to do something thatseems absolutely ridiculous, you should say “yes” for as long asyou can.
Boy Scout: The last couple of years has seen a country divided. Has the current political climate inhibited or infused your work?
Jenn Hampton: As an observer, I meanit's hard in this day and age not to engage in political feelings one way orthe other. Ican just share an experience that was super moving to me. WhenDonald Trump got elected, Asbury Park was one of the fewcommunities that allvoted Democrat. Very many tears that day. I remember I was like “I should just open up the gallery becauseIwant to be around art. I want to be around things that make me feel good.” Somany people, as a community, stopped by, andjust silently walked through thegallery, like “Thank God you're open.” And they would just cry, and I realizedat that time that art,and music, and things that make you feel good, are goingto be a really important part of this presidency, and the world that welive ingoing forward. Because, I do think it's like the Dark Ages. I hope that what's goingto come out of it is like theRenaissance. Whether that be intellectually,spiritually, artistically, creatively for good or bad. These things happen. Andwhenyou get comfortable, as a creative, it's a very scary place, and sometimesuncomfortable feelings, and thoughts, help to reallyspark.
In some creatives it's a thing that can become a catalyst for new bodiesof work and new ways of thinking. I feel like that theworld we live in it canbe a very scary place but you have to trust that this is part of the process toget us to a better place.
Boy Scout: Does a world of hyper social media intrude on your ability to be your artistic self?
Jenn Hampton: What I see beingaround younger people whether it's at an Art Fair, or at a show, there isn'tthat being in themoment. There are many times in my life that I probably wishthat I had social media, or technology, to help me remembersomething. Sadly,our society will be over documented to this point of like “false narratives”and “fake realities.” What I see fromyoung people is this lack of curiosity. Peoplewill only go to a show if they know they could buy a ticket pre-sale at thedoor. Likebuying a ticket at the door, and interacting with people, is aforeign notion at this point. Then getting into a show, seeing yourfriends,taking selfies, and you watch the show and you're videotaping the whole show,and you're watching the show throughyour phone.
Now that the iPhone gives you your screen time, it's terrifying. Becausefor me, it used to be a source of inspiration. Because Ican't get to LA to seean art show. I can't get to Berlin to see the opening of this collective. I can'tsee the new mural in Brazil byone of my favorite artists. But now, from the businessside of what I do, I see how it could take away from the experience. I feellike aging is going to be terrible for a whole subset of people. There arethese things in the world that maybe shouldn't bedocumented. They should besecret. Think about indigenous cultures that think that the camera takes awayyour soul. Now we'reliving in this generation where nobody isn't doinganything that isn't on camera. So, what does that mean about us as a spiritualuniverse? I don't know.
Jenn Hampton: I'm growing backwards,I think. Maybe not physically, but mentally. I feel like I was way more fearfulas a kid. I'mnot as fearful of the things I was, like “Oh, I don't know if Ishould do that. That seems crazy. What will people think?”
I realized that you are your own worst critic. You might be a topicof conversation for fifteen seconds but then after that… Thatwould be the bestthing I would tell young people. Don't care what others think because it'snever going to help you get to whereyou need to go. Caring what people think,for many years, I would say “no” often because I didn't want to let people down.Irealized that was just my own fear. I feel as I've gotten older I just say “yes”to everything. I feel like if you say “yes” it creates anenergy that othersaround you will say “yes” you will become a positive fearless person that willbe able to accomplish things thatseem crazy to others because you don't see itas crazy.
Boy Scout: Has your bravery grown through the ages?
Jenn Hampton: Yes, I would say thatI am getting braver as I get older. I just missed a physical and mental wouldmatch. That’sgotta be the shitty part about life. You get all this knowledgeaging, but then you have to deal with like looking at your facing andbeinglike “Who is that?”
Boy Scout: In a media mad world, can sincerity still be a virtue?
Jenn Hampton: I'm like the biggest sapin terms of human nature... I find myself very emotional about the human spirit.Itcreates this reaction for me that results in tears in the most uncomfortableof spaces. It could be when I'm hearing a song, orwhen I see a kid screamingin the middle of the pit at a singer. It happens many times and I realized thatthere's others like methat still feel that energy of sincerity, andtruthfulness, and passion.
You can find people to align yourself with who are more sincere,and don't necessarily care about the narrative. I feel like thathappensthrough daily interactions with people, we just don't notice it anymore, andwhen we do notice that, it's sooverwhelming. I do believe that if you payattention you can see sincerity in lots of forms. There are people that wantnothingfrom you except to be kind and it's always really heartwarming to findthem. It just seems it's harder to find them in this day andage for somereason.
I am in a constant state of questioning. I try very hard to onlydo things that make me feel good, and make others feel good.However, that cango awry. I try very hard to be as authentic as I can be, and to be as open as Ican be. I mean I love people. Ilove their stories. I love, you know, the weirdothat comes in off the street to the gallery that wants to just talk at me for two hours.
Boy Scout: Abraham Lincoln said: “To summon up our better angels.” What are the words you live by?
Jenn Hampton: There are energieshidden in people that make you see yourself. I don't know if there are wordsthat I live by,but there are activities that I live by. I try to giveeverybody the same respect as I would give to a peer, or a teacher, or a mentor,if I can. There is a soul in there that is trying to tell you something thatyou might need to know. I want to go away from thisexistence knowing that Imade a mark, and that mark inspired other people, and then that inspirationinspired more people, andthen they made their mark. That sort of energy justgrows, and grows, and grows.
Boy Scout: Your groundbreaking work as GM of the original Asbury Lanes serves as an indispensable stalwart in the history of Asbury Park which was created during the height of ruin. During your tenure, you created a cult of cool clubhouse that perfectly captured the potently raw meeting of music and art. As an early Asbury cultural revolutionary, are you ever wistful for an older, grittier Asbury Park?
Jenn Hampton: I'm trying very hardto still make peace with how our experience with Asbury Lanes has ended. Andthrough thatmourning I've learned a lot of things. One of the things that Irealized the other day, and it was like the first time in a couple yearsthat Ifelt… like, hopeful, or at least proud. When people talk about the Asbury lanesis almost like they're talking about this sortof dreamy place that looks a certainway. It felt a certain way. It operated a certain way. When I read my notes, Iget very proud ofthe work that we did there. “Revolutionary?” I think in termsof what we were trying to do, in a time, in a place that seemedsurreal. Therewas nobody here which made it really easy to not fail. There was no one toplease except for ourselves. It's hardto think of myself as the conductor ofthat. There was a point where I looked and I was like “I don't know what I'm doing” but thenwhat happens is somethingreally magical. You say this is bigger than me and it feels great to know thatI'm doing something thatis influencing, and changing my environment, and otherpeople's environment.
When people say I moved to Asbury Park because of Asbury Lanes,it's not necessarily for the building. I think that peoplebelieve that if thiscould happen here, anything can happen here. To give people hope is such a coolsort of gift that I was givenfrom the universe. I was just the vessel. Throughmy energies, and my sort of guilty pleasures, I could inspire other people todothe same. It’s infectious. Art is infectious. When you see people making art,you want to make art. Even if you don't make art.When you see people makingmusic… like, we would have people get up to do their first show at the Lanesand nobody laughed,or booed…. I get choked up thinking about the community of AsburyLanes. People that supported us whether they came toshows, or came to eattater tots, or bought a piece of art… they were buying into a different way oflife. They were buying into “Iwant to be part of this. Whatever this is, thisfeels good.” We were the place that if you were a singer girl, you felt safegoingthere. We had lots of divorced dads that just felt really lost. Theywould go there and be like “I feel part of something.”
And to make people who don't feel comfortable in the world, feel partof something, it's such a gift. Now what I'm mourn is notbeing able to give thatgift to people. I see so many people displaced. Everyone says to me “Jenn, there's nowhere to go. I don'tknow anybodyanymore. This towns full of people that just want to get drunk.” The factthat you the new Asbury Lanes hastelevisions says it all. One of our rules wasthere are no TVs. We don’t want you to experience what you do at home, we wantyou to step outside of your comfort zone and experience something different. Whetherthat'd be fearful to walk in a door of anold, falling down bowling alley inAsbury Park on 4th Avenue when people would get shot … you get inside andyou're like “Oh,okay. I can do this.” Success was when I would look over theaudience at a burlesque show and there'd be an 18 year old with amohawk andthen, a 70 year old woman that used to see burlesque shows when she was that 18year old. We were a space forpeople to come to experience in Asbury Park. Idon't know if it's because it looks gritty that people were more open toexperience. Sadly, it's becoming like anywhere else in the country. Gentrified.You know, it looks like an Instagram filtereverywhere.
The challenge for me is find those energies in a town that wantsto look like everywhere else when it's not like everywhere else.There arestill characters here. There's still people that believed in this idea thatthere is something different here. What I realizedas I've been mourning the openingof the new Asbury Lanes… it's not just a club that someone took, it was acommunity. I thinkthat the karma of a company that takes a business (I saythat in “quotes”) and uses that history to fortify them to sell luxurycondos…is like the most shameful thing that you could do. Because, I think that thereis nothing sacred anymore. I can mournthat experience but be very proud thatlike no songs will be written about the new Asbury Lanes.
We had people that wantedto celebrate there not because it was a nice space but because the energyinsidefelt good. So, it's a very good cautionary tale. What I can only hopefor Asbury Park is that there's enough of us that will continuemaking it feela certain way. You know, that whole energy “Whatis never created, is destroyed” is a true statement. For me thatcame inthe form of the Wooden Walls. The Baronet Theater was a beautiful vaudevilliantheater that was once a sex theater,and then a Disney theater, and had thisbeautiful history. It was falling down. The same development company thatacquired theAsbury Lanes also acquired it and ripped it down.
Before they ripped it down, we would have craft night where wewould write signs as if we were speaking for the Baronet, so theywould be akinto something like “Please don't hurt me, I'm a pretty lady.” and we would putthose all over town. People wouldn'tget them. “Those are the weirdos over it at the Asbury Lanes they had craft night…”I feel like art has always been a componentfor the Lanes and that's over thething that I missed the most was how can I affect as many people's lives as Ican, being oneperson.
Boy Scout: Your artistic urges continue at Parlor Gallery, the Wooden Walls project on the Asbury Park Boardwalk and in expanding city murals. Given the intersection of art and commerce today, are you still hungry to explore the bleakly beautiful?
When I would walk the boardwalk after Hurricane Sandy I saw allthese boards up. It sort of reminded me of when you seeprocess from artistsand you see a work in progress. So, I took that concept of how I feel when Iview people making art and said“We should do this up and down the boardwalk.” You know, music has a home everywhere here, whydoesn’t art? I went toevery developer starting in 2010 till I got a greenlight from Madison Marquette to fund a mural program that would encompassallof Asbury Park. “How can I affect themost people?” Well, the boardwalk gets the most amount of traffic in thistown.
I want people to see the beauty of the architecture so I thoughtif I go to different blighted areas on the boardwalk that have thesewoodedwalls on them, and I put art on them, maybe people will start to pay attentionto the building. We're in our fourth year,and now I realize, again, I had noclue. I assumed that there would be a certain percentage of people that visitedthe boardwalkthat would appreciate it. I didn't realize that, like Asbury Lanes,if you give people inspiration it changes them and they take thathome withthem. Even as simple as public art can be to all of us that sort of engaged inthe arts, too many it's like the coolestthing they've ever seen (for lack ofbetter words) because they don't see art. And when I say they don't see art,they're not thetype of people that will walk into a gallery, or go to a museum.They have an experience that I might have going to the Whitney.Their Whitneyis public art. Makes you feel familiar, and akin to this energy, and AsburyPark, and then you want to come back,and then you want to --- I don't know, maybeyou want to invest in Asbury Park in a creative way--- or maybe, you want to getmarried here, or whatever the case may be. I realized that it's that sameenergy of inspiring people, through art and performance,that changes your lifeexperience. it elevates you, even just for a moment, taking a selfie. I wantedpeople to have a freeexperience that made them feel good.
Parlor is an untraditionalgallery in a traditional gallery set up: White walls, openings, every four tofive weeks.Parlor is a platform to try to bring artists into Asbury Park becausethey will, eventually, just like music musicians, change ourlandscape.
Boy Scout: What is your greatest regret?
Jenn Hampton: I guess my greatest regretwould have been… I let it on some level get taken away from us. I felt helplessin notknowing how to fight a billion-dollar corporation. I'm this one littleperson how could I fight lawyers. I think my biggest regret is notfiguring outhow to parlay that energy into another building.
Boy Scout: What is your greatest fear?
Jenn Hampton: My biggest fear is becauseI come in a certain package, that people won't take me seriously, and understandthe gospel that I'm preaching is true. And they'll look back and say “Dammit! Iwish… we should have had a place. Jenn said thiswas going to happen.” Yeah,you can you can exploit the arts, but guess what You have to do? You have togive back.
Boy Scout: How would you like to be remembered?
Jenn Hampton: People have such shortmemories, I just want to be remembered. I've been trying to find a location anddeveloper that would help me create an Arts Club, where you could go and buyart, make art, eat art, feel art, listen to art, drinkart and therefore we wouldbe surrounded by like-minded people that would want the same experience. Like AsburyLanes butgrown up on some level. A little bit more grown-up.