Contentment

I am happily ensconced in central NJ, at the home of Kim and Bob, friends I’ve known for some fifteen years. They took me out to dinner at a restaurant I had previously admired, where I ordered the prime rib, and we bantered with the waiter who was from Brooklyn, making jokes about my being back in civilization again. I thought he had me cornered after I told him I can distinguish southern dialects fairly easily.

“Then you can tell where I’m from,” he said.

“I don’t do New York dialects.”

“C’mon, try.”

[pause]

“Brooklyn.”

I was right. He told me to answer “Brooklyn” anytime anyone wanted to test me, and I’d be right half the time. Then he said that people from Lawn Guyland weren’t really New Yorkers. (Sorry, Michele, he said it, not me.)

I’m quite proud of myself today. Last night, I sat down with a map of Maryland and plotted out a way to avoid I-95 completely. If possible, I’d like to avoid Delaware completely. I prefer not to think of it at all, really. Delaware has the most traffic, the most cops, and charges the highest tolls on the east coast, and we’re talking per mile. Delaware reeks. Normally, I take 301 until it merges with another road that brings you into 95 south of the rest stop, which puts you into the middle of the worst of the traffic. This time, I veered off on Route 40, which put me into Delaware on the ramp to the Delaware Memorial Bridge. So I didn’t pay Delaware one red cent this time around. I may take 301 every time, Thanksgiving or no Thanksgiving. In fact, I didn’t pay a dime to the state of NJ, either. I took 295 to 130. No tolls. The only tolls I paid were the fifty cent toll for the Powhite in Virginia, and the Bay Bridge toll in Maryland.

Speaking of bridges: I am never going to take that bridge again. I’ve changed my mind about taking 301 every time. I forgot about the bridge. My fear of heights is back with a vengeance, and the Bay Bridge is 186 feet at its highest, and 4.3 miles long. Stop and think about that a minute: 186 feet is nearly nineteen stories high.

I suppose the good news is I’d be dead the second I hit the water. The bad news is it would take me a while to fall 19 stories.

Have I mentioned that I am afraid of heights?

Thinking about it now, I can’t believe I snapped pictures the first time I went over that bridge. I put them up in a post some time ago, I think. If not, perhaps I’ll dig them out and post them so you can all see how friggin’ high that bridge is.

Nineteen stories. Geez.

I need to stop obsessing over this.

Anyway.

Except for the bridge, the ride was uneventful. I’ve learned how to avoid all the major traffic areas by now. I never go near D.C. on holidays, and I have a few alternate routes if need be. Funny, I didn’t see many cops on the road today. They’re usually all over on a holiday. I saw maybe two or three cop cars, that was it.

And that’s it for this post. My eyes are starting to close. I think I’ll call it a night and really rest up for tomorrow.