23-07-2025
How 'benny' became the Jersey Shore's favorite dirty word
SPRING LAKE – The party never stopped.
Watching from her home in Spring Lake, June B. Rozniak grew more and more resentful of the group renting a neighbor's home for the summer, making a mockery of what she saw as a 'lovely seaside community.'
They partied during the day, 'cavorting in the golden sunshine' stinking up the air of barbecue fluid. They partied at night, returning home from the bars after 2 a.m. to 'hearty cries of welcome and the festive sounds of man at play echo through the night.'
Richard Nixon had just resigned from the presidency less than two weeks before. But at least he'd been able to shed his 'albatross,' as she called it. She was stuck with these…these…out-of-towners. Tourists.
Bennies.
After complaining to a myriad of township officials, Rozniak put her complaints in writing in a biting opinion column for the Asbury Park Press.
That column, published on Aug. 18, 1974, was the first time the Press published any reference to 'benny' or 'bennies,' at least as far as this reporter could find in an online archive, searching back to the 1940s.
'One of the first rules of the house is to go native. This means stripping to the barest possible dress, going barefoot and wearing a jaunty hat. Unfortunately, this uniform appearance has the reverse of the desired effect and they immediately become 'Bennies,'' Rozniak wrote. 'The next rule is to affix one's hand to a beverage of some sort, not to be removed until Sunday evening before departure.'
While Rozniak's essay was the first time the Press used the word, she didn't invent it. Later articles quoted longtime residents who said they'd heard the term used by locals as far back as the 1940s — long before MTV sent its rag-tag group of "Jersey Shore" partiers to Seaside Heights.
The caricature of the "benny" has become weaved into the culture of the Jersey Shore, the mental image of a fake-tanned, gold-chained New Yorker snuffing a cigarette out on the beach as iconic as Tillie's smiling face or a seagull stealing a french fry.
Even the Shore's minor league baseball team got in on the action. This summer, the Jersey Shore BlueClaws rebranded themselves as the "Locals" for three games against the Hudson Valley Renegades — renamed the "Bennys," with a fanny-pack-sporting, cooler-toting pigeon as their mascot.
The Bennys are here: Why the Jersey Shore can't deal with it
Part of the term's staying power is the lexicographic mystery behind it. "Benny" has become the Jersey Shore's favorite dirty word, but its origins remain just as elusive as they were back when Rozniak included her own definition in her 1974 column.
"Even my grandkids today, they'll refer to them as bennies," Rozniak, now 87, said in an interview from her home in South Carolina. "I don't know where I ever heard it from, but I certainly can't say I made it up. I wish I did!'
The divided state of New Jersey
While the term 'benny' might be unique to the Jersey Shore, people have been identifying and shunning outsiders since the dawn of humanity itself.
'It's very common for cultures to have ways that are a little bit inside baseball to define who's a member of their group, and who's an 'other,' who is different from them,' said Monmouth University provost Richard Veit, who teaches history and anthropology – including New Jersey history. 'Using language like 'benny' and 'shoobie,' those are pejorative terms but that's part of a culture working to define itself.'
In short: It's human nature.
Finding a pejorative for summer tourists is even commonplace. Coastal Long Island locals will dismiss the 'citiots' (city + idiots) who come to the Hamptons from New York City, for example.
And year-round residents in the coastal South still use 'snowbird' as a pejorative for the folks (including many from the Jersey Shore) who live in Florida or the Carolinas during the winter months.
'Using this pejorative language is a culture working to define itself,' Veit said.
What makes 'benny' special, however, is the mystery. After all this time, nobody knows when it started or what it means. Not really, anyway.
When Rozniak used the term, she thought it referred to the tourists coming to the Shore for the 'benefits' of the sunshine and salt water. Veit buys into the theory that 'benny' comes from an acronym, referring to Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark and New York – where the bennies might have traveled from.
Some believe it has to do with the $100 bills — the 'Benjamins' — flaunted by gaudy tourists. There's an apocryphal story about an umbrella rental stand – Benny's – favored by day-trippers to the beach. The first definition I ever heard referred to the expensive Mercedes Benzes clogging up the Garden State Parkway.
For every theory out there, there's some evidence that debunks it. The early trains to the Shore didn't connect to the B.E.N.N.Y. cities, and $100 in 1940 would have been equivalent to nearly $2,300 in today's dollars – far more than any visitor would carry when boardwalk concessions and rides cost a few cents.
What the stink? Why tourists are called 'bennys'
Op-Ed: Bury the word 'benny' in the Jersey Shore sand
(While no one can agree on where 'benny' comes from, there is general consensus that 'shoobie,' a more common pejorative along the southern Jersey Shore, comes from day-trippers carrying their supplies to the beach in shoeboxes. Personally, I always preferred the definition popularized by the 1990s Nickelodeon cartoon 'Rocket Power,' which referred to people wearing shoes and socks on the beach as 'shoobies.')
The debate is what makes 'benny' a uniquely Jersey thing, Veit says. After all, this is a state where arguments are a part of the culture, where nobody can agree on the name of breakfast meat (it's pork roll) or whether Central Jersey exists (it most certainly does).
'New Jersey is one small, united state divided,' Veit said. 'It has all these different regional cultures. When folks at the Shore are calling someone a 'benny,' that person may only be coming from an hour or 90 minutes away.'
Benny go home?
But beyond the definition, there's a more existential quandary about bennies: At their core, they're tourists – and tourism is the lifeblood of the Jersey Shore.
According to the Tourism Economics research group, the tourism industry generated $8.6 billion in Monmouth and Ocean counties last summer. While some of that spending undoubtedly came from the people who are here in the sweltering July heat and the icy December winds, the effect of tourism on the Jersey Shore economy is undeniable.
"I've always welcomed the bennies. I was one for many years. They're down here to spend money. That's why they came, they're on vacation -- and when you're on vacation, you let loose," Jersey Shore Chamber of Commerce president Danielle Wolowitz said. "Tourism is the bread and butter of what a lot of businesses at the Shore rely on, and it's really only for 90 or 120 days."
Bumper stickers imploring 'Benny go home' first popped up in Point Pleasant Beach in the late 1970s. And just like today, officials implored people to stop driving away the Shore's main economic driver.
In an August 1978 Press article about the bumper stickers – the first time the Press printed the phrase – a Point Pleasant Beach councilman said 'it ought to be 'Bennies welcome' instead of 'Bennies go home.''
A month later, New Jersey Hospitality and Tourism president William Clegg asked, sarcastically: 'Do we need tourists? Does a tree need roots?'
The Shore got a little taste of what happens when bennies go home.
After Superstorm Sandy ransacked much of the Jersey Shore in 2012, tourism spending in Monmouth and Ocean counties slowed to a halt after years of growth. And when social distancing restrictions were in place at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, tourism spending dropped by nearly a quarter.
"The locals definitely stepped up and shopped local, but they can't make up that volume," said Wolowitz, who owns Top That! Donuts in Point Pleasant Beach. "There are maybe 5,000 full-time residents here, and that's not carrying you for the whole year. The residents may not like the added traffic or the added waits at restaurants but, for the small business owners, this is our Super Bowl."
MORE: How the Shore economy sustained amid COVID-19
But that doesn't mean they shouldn't show a little bit of respect.
Perhaps the one agreed-upon definition of a benny is that not every tourist is a benny. For every extra in MTV's 'Jersey Shore,' there's a family of four enjoying a much-needed getaway on the beach and boardwalk.
When Rozniak drew the distinction in 1974 – they became bennies when they stripped down to their bathing suits and started drinking, 'properly dressed and refreshed' – she was onto something.
But even the litterers, partiers and left-lane-hoggers are part of what makes the Jersey Shore the Jersey Shore. Without them, what else would we have to talk about – the weather?
Besides: Labor Day is almost around the corner. Time flies when you're grumbling about the bennies.
Before long, we'll enjoy the 'local summer' as we always do – whiling away one of the last good beach days of the year, when the beach is free and the water is warm and the scene is quiet, save for the occasional snicker from a laughing gull.
The seagulls are a welcome visitor, no matter the time of year. We all know who they're laughing at, anyway.
Mike Davis is an investigative reporter with the Asbury Park Press, where he's covered local news, politics, transportation and the cannabis industry. His work has changed laws, prompted government investigations and even won a few awards, which make his parents very proud. Contact him at mdavis@ @byMikeDavis on social media platforms or send an encrypted message via Signal @bymikedavis.22.
This article originally appeared on Asbury Park Press: What does benny mean, anyway? Jersey Shore locals love to hate their tourists
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