Banner ads at the beach are the worst part of the Jersey Shore

Recently, I went to Asbury Park, my favorite place for a day trip to the Jersey Shore. And while enjoying what I love about the beach — ducking under waves, lunch on the boardwalk, and sweet, sticky treats — I also experienced what I hate about the beach: airplane ads.

In just a few hours, my stunning view was interrupted by ads screaming about a local business school, a children’s hospital, a landscaping business, and a wedding planner. Like anyone is going to pick their wedding planner based on a flyby they saw for a couple of minutes at the beach.

These ads have bothered me for years, and always take away from my enjoyment of the Jersey Shore. Why do we let this go on?

Imagine you drive 1.5 hours to get to your favorite hiking trail, something you’ve looked forward to all week, and 20 minutes in, a lawn mower whines past you, dragging a sign for a new hard seltzer.

Granted, I’m one of the most crotchety people when it comes to advertising. I spend money to avoid it. While other people use their disposable income on takeout or clothes, I use mine on satellite radio and ad-free subscriptions to Spotify and TV streaming services. (I recently spent more than $100 on a yearly subscription to Paramount+ just so I can watch one show — RuPaul’s Drag Race — without ads.) I don’t have live TV anymore, but when I did, I always paid for a DVR and would start local sports events late so that I could fast-forward through the ads.

Like my TV and music, I prefer my beaches ad-free.

The beach is a great equalizer, a place for everyone — young and old, no matter their race, creed, or political orientation — to disconnect from what’s bothering them on land, look out at the horizon, and remember how beautiful the world can be.

All of that is interrupted by the nasal drone of an old crop duster telling me about a happy hour special at the local bar. (And don’t get me started on the boats that drag digital ads along the waterline.)

I get that beaches are rarely quiet places, between the crashing waves, squealing kids, and distant bass thump from your neighbor’s speaker. But all of those sounds are instantly drowned out by the much louder, annoying buzz of the ad planes. Noise pollution is a real thing, people, and can pose health risks.

Speaking of pollution, airplanes are a major source of greenhouse gas emissions. Why on Earth would we choose to add to that for something as frivolous as a piece of fabric reminding you what play is on Broadway right now?

Most importantly, no one should have to risk their lives to slap an ad in front of our faces. Anytime someone gets into a plane, they might not come back, and there are several crashes of banner-towing planes every year. Just a few years ago, a pilot flying a banner plane in Ocean City had to make an emergency landing.

Plus, I suspect these ads are a supreme waste of money. A single beach ad costs hundreds — if not thousands — to actualize. I can’t imagine businesses always get more from it than they spend, as few people are going to make purchasing decisions based on what they saw fly past them at the beach. (And some, like me, may try to boycott any products they see, because they find the ads so annoying.)

I wonder, sometimes, why the people who are so upset at the prospect of wind farms dotting the Jersey shoreline aren’t more up in arms about banner ads, which are way more intrusive. The wind farms, at least, are quiet, pretty, and don’t push any products on us. They are helping, not hurting, the planet. And no one has to risk their lives every day to put them there.

I’ll take a distant wind turbine on the horizon over an in-your-face reminder to switch my car insurance.

A ban on aerial banner ads at the beach isn’t so outlandish — Huntington Beach, Calif., did it in 2002. And if all of the Jersey Shore can’t be ad-free, why not create designated spots the planes can avoid? Maybe, like Paramount+, the Jersey Shore could offer beaches where people can pay more for day passes to guarantee the horizon won’t be interrupted by a massive mechanical mosquito dragging a banner.

I guarantee I wouldn’t be the only customer.