Saturday, September 21, 2002
JFK, Canarsie, and New Jersey
Today, I drove from M&S’s house in Livingston to JFK to pick up my Grandmother. I really wanted to see her before I left for Europe, and she wanted to see M&S’s new daughter.
I decided to drive through Staten Island and Brooklyn to get to the airport, knowing full well that I’d get a view of Manhattan as I crossed the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge. The skyline still looks very, very wrong. I also knew that I’d be driving past Canarsie, the neighborhood where I grew up. The funny thing is that it’s still hard to drive past Exit 13 on the Belt Parkway, even though I haven’t lived there since 1992.
I got to JFK and successfully negotiated the construction to get a good spot at the JetBlue terminal, which turns out to be the old National Airlines (I’m Brenda, Fly Me!) terminal. I had lots of déjà vu walking through there. When I was a kid, that was where I went to to go to Florida, or to meet people returning to Florida. And there I was, waiting for my Grandmother to arrive from Tampa.
She looked great, especially since she just turned 93! She is a very special person to me, as she has been the one source of stability and continuity in my life. And, she is a very kind and giving person, so she has a lot of friends. M&S were very happy to see her too.
On our way back to NJ, she asked if we could drive down our old block in Canarsie. She moved to Canarsie as a little girl, and moved into our old house at 1036 East 94th Street at the age of 9, in 1918. She sold the house in 1988. The demographics of Canarsie have changed dramatically in the past 10 years, When I lived there, the neighborhood was predominately Jewish and Italian, with some Hispanics and Asians mixed in. Today, it is mostly African and Caribbean-American. The census tract had one of the highest racial shifts in the nation between 1990 and 2000.
Rockaway Parkway, the main shopping drag, looked a little rattier than it used to, but our block was relatively unchanged, although many of the houses now sport bars on the windows. Our house was in pretty good shape, with plants on the ledge of the porch and a well-tended garden plot in front. The neighbor’s houses, though, badly needed a coat of paint and had messy-looking sheets hanging in the windows, instead of the tidy blinds and curtains that were the norm when we lived there. The whole thing was a little sad, but not nearly as depressing as it could have been. I will say that the quick drive through knocked all of the nostalgia for the old neighborhood out of me. I think what I have been missing was the sense of community – growing up there was like growing up in a small town, everybody knew everybody else, and you’d never know you were actually in New York City – but I was not really nostalgic for the place, which is full of old, ugly, and architecturally uninteresting houses. I have the means to live better than I did when I was in Brooklyn, and I will take advantage of the opportunities that I have that I didn’t then.
My Grandmother handled the whole thing very well, and kept a good sense of perspective. Again, this was helped by the fact that the place was a bit rattier, but not burned out, which is a common outcome when one goes back to one’s old neighborhood. S was surprised that we went at all. He grew up on the other end of the neighborhood, on the corner of E. 78th St. and Farragut Rd, and was pretty upset by the condition of the neighborhood the last time he was there.
Gram was absolutely delighted to meet L, who is one of the most adorable babies on the planet (not that I’m biased or anything). L did some of her tricks, and completely refused to take her afternoon nap. We all went to a local diner, where L proceeded to wave at and high-five with everyone at the nearby tables. She is one highly social 10 month old.
After we got home, S put L to bed, and she fell asleep pretty quickly. We chatted for a while and all turned in early. I guess none of us are as young as we used to be (except, of course for baby L).
2:43 PM
Wednesday, September 18, 2002
From California to New Jersey (via Michigan)
Unfortunately, I’m writing this from memory – my Mac was in the shop and made the trip east without me.
Friday, September 13, 2002
Belmont, CA to Evanston, WY
I suppose that Friday the 13th is a slightly inauspicious day to start a cross-country drive. Then again, I didn’t have too much choice in the matter. I rolled out of Marcum’s apartment at about 6:30 AM, before dawn’s first light, secure in the knowledge that Peet’s would already be open and serving up my favorite coffee. I also made a pit-stop at the adjoining Safeway to buy still more band-aids. (I tore a nice little strip of flesh off my right index finger while cleaning my fridge.) I figured I’d try the antibiotic kind and see how the worked.
The truck was *totally* full. There was no seeing out the back window, but I had cleverly arranged my stuff according to the following considerations:
* Nothing should be able to slide forward and hit me in the head
* Heat-sensitive stuff (my cooler full of cigars) would be in the middle, furthest from any possible heating
* Easy access to important stuff (travel clothes, camera) was vital
* Valuable things should be covered and hidden
Aaah, there’s an art to this stuff!
The day’s discoveries:
* My cruise control turns itself off if the truck cannot maintain the desired speed. (Disconcerting the first time, cool thereafter)
* Nevada remains full of mostly nothing.
* The Great Salt Desert makes Nevada look lush
* Wyoming sells fireworks during peak fire season
* Motel 6 has no little bottles of shampoo.
Saturday, September 14, 2002
Evanston, WY to Des Moines, IA
All I can say is that while Wyoming along 80 is nicer than the Great Salt Desert, we could easily eliminate about 80% of it. A hundred miles of pure nothing would be OK, 350 is a sick joke. I stopped in Green River, WY for gas and to find some coffee – it’s a surprisingly cute town.
Nebraska is as wholesome as ever. I find Nebraska and Iowa oddly compelling. Perhaps it’s because it’s all so big and so green. I stopped in Cabela’s in Sidney, NE, just to check the place out. They have a terrific display of North American game animals. Really amazing. I refrained from buying anything, though.
I didn’t really intend to go as far as Des Moines, but I had to in order to find a room. Not sure why everything filled up so fast, but it did.
Sunday, September 15, 2002
Des Moines, IA to Ann Arbor/Ypsilanti, MI
Breakfasted at Perkins – a conscious decision to indulge in a sit-down breakfast. I had the cinnamon roll French toast. Very tasty, but more than enough to feed two hungry people – I could barely eat half!
I figured that I could take it relatively easy driving, as it really isn’t too far from Des Moines to Ypsilanti – or at least not too far by the standards of the distances I had been driving.
I had to pull off the highway to visit Brooklyn, IA. It’s a cute little town with nice houses and a fairly depressed downtown. It seems to be, surprise, surprise, mostly populated by people who support the local industry, agriculture. They take pride in having lots of flags of many nations flying downtown – a nice idea, but the flags are small and flown indifferently.
Crossing the Mississippi is something I always look forward to. I stopped at the very nice Illinois welcome center to add to my collection of complementary state maps.
I got to Guy’s house at about 7:30 PM. We met at a local restaurant, Paesano’s, which was really quite good. Guy seems to be more or less settled in for the duration. We caught up as best we could, as he was tired from being sick, and I was tired from driving.
Monday, September 16, 2002
Ann Arbor/Ypsilanti, MI
Guy invited me to sit in on one of his classes. I must say that it’s a little odd to be in a classroom that convenes with the Lord’s Prayer. In my opinion, the school is home to a population of radical Catholics, although the term they prefer is “orthodox”. (Which I find somewhat offensive – in a more Catholic than thou kind of way.)
It was a contracts class, which I thoroughly enjoyed, as it covered ground from B-school, only in a different context. I made certain to thank the prof for allowing me to attend. Aside from the weird conservatism, I found that I mostly liked the people there.
After class, we hit the gym and then got lunch and cruised over to the Michigan campus. Guy wanted to check out the law library and the bookstore. I wanted to take a peek at the business school. Simon is smaller and much nicer.
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Ypsilanti, MI to Livingston, NJ
This was the hardest leg, because I wanted to get there so badly. After all, 10-month-old Lauren was waiting for me. I underestimated the distance, and found myself driving through far too much of Ohio – another state that should be smaller.
Pennsylvania was beautiful and green. Quite a change from California. I got to my friend’s house at about 8:30 PM, just in time for Lauren’s bedtime. I’m happy to report that she came right to me and wanted me to hold her. She really is a treasure.
4:49 PM
Friday, September 06, 2002
Packing Packing Packing
It's absolutely amazing how dust can pile up in little-used corners. Especially around computers. Perhaps there will be a cure for household dust one day, other than hiring an extremely driven cleaning person.
Missing California?
The past few days have been kind of melancholy. I'd like to be spending them fixing the Bay Area in my mind. I will definitely miss riding my motorcycle along the San Mateo coast, and up into Marin. I'll miss seeing the local hills, many of which would pass for mountains on the East Coast. I'll miss the sweeping vistas of San Francisco, and the Autumn that fades seamlessly into Spring.
Unfortunately, I've been spending my time packing, calling utilities to cut off various services and researching California housing law (so my landlord will have a harder time ripping me off.) When I gave notice on my apartment, the first thing they did was try to overcharge me by 10% per day (which they claimed to be an accident) and insisted that the day they received the mailed copy my notice started the 30 day notice period, adding four or five days to my rental. (I had dropped a copy in the managers drop box the day before I sent a copy via certified mail.) Well, it turns out the CA law says that the date of the postmark is the one that counts. I attached my final rent check to a letter citing the exact section of the civil code that specifies this. Hopefully they will take that as a message that I intend to fight them tooth and nail for every dime that is mine.
That, of course, plays into the things I don't like about California - the cost of living, and the hateful, anything for a buck (legal or not) mentality that prevails.
I suppose that I'll miss the good things about California once I get home. But there is a silver lining - California remains a great place to vacation, and I will probably visit at least once a year.
1:58 AM
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