OCEAN CITY — In the spirit of Jerry Seinfeld and Samuel Beckett, the Quiet Festival in Ocean City celebrates the lack of activity during the lull between Halloween and Thanksgiving.

The irreverent event, sponsored by the fictional National Association of Tired People, features a snoring contest, a ceremonial pin drop, a lettuce eating competition and a yawn-along of the Bing Crosby ballad, “Beautiful Dreamer.”

The Quiet Festival is one of many quirky gatherings held year-round in Ocean City, a hub for the odd and the unexpected along the Jersey coast. Every spring, kazoos sound off during the Doo Dah Parade and in May, a prognosticating shellfish called Martin Z. Mollusk predicts whether summer will arrive six weeks early.

Mark Soifer, director of public relations in Ocean City, said that the Quiet Festival dates back 18 years.

“After a busy season at the Shore, we thought it would be nice to celebrate quiet things,” said Soifer. “Things like enjoying nature, taking walks, looking out at the horizon. We developed it into a quiet pet contest because there were no contests for hamsters and gerbils.”

The quiet pet contest is Ocean City’s answer to the Westminster Dog Show, with an array of tiny critters in decorated crates performing tricks. The competition culminates with a lettuce-eating contest for the pets.

This year, there was a new twist, as I asked for permission not only to cover the festivities but also to square off against the animal that won preliminary rounds. I’ve been a vegetarian since age 13 and my salad-devouring talents are legend at the diners of New Jersey and Long Island. I figured that competing against a pet might inspire the kids in the crowd to eat more veggies.

Soifer told me I was the first person to express an interest in munching lettuce for glory at the Quiet Fest.

“The fact that a human would even challenge a rodent boggles my imagination,” said Soifer. “It’s another earth shaking event for the Quiet Festival.”

My opponent was a guinea pig named Skyler from Upper Township. I towered over the animal yet Skyler didn’t appear intimidated. She seemed downright dismissive as I sat across from her and attacked a head of iceberg lettuce. She neatly nibbled pieces of romaine while I nearly choked on a leaf that got stuck in my throat.

I was a lettuce-eating Icarus, overestimating by ability to consume food on a timeclock and I went down in flames, or in this case, leaves.



My first foray into the world of competitive eating was something less than a triumph. The judges named Skyler the champ while I was still struggling to swallow the last few chunks of lettuce. They didn't give me a trophy or even a commemorative ribbon but I still feel like a winner. My act of utter silliness made history and befuddled spectators in one of New Jersey's weirdest towns.

“People are going home shaking their heads because they still can’t believe what they saw,” said Soifer.