New York vs. New Jersey
I could probably go on and on with the inner monologue that rises in me when I am walking by myself along the streets of New York, but I could do that anywhere. One of the recurring themes that keeps popping up to me is the resounding difference between New York City and its suburbs of New Jersey, where I live. People have long been asking me, "What's in New York?", when really the only logical response is, "What isn't in New York?"
Truly, the city is the largest congregation of people in the United States. That alone should speak for itself, but I will expand on it. When you have 8 million people living in such a small compact area, the amount of stuff that happens multiplies astronomically, which is why, "What isn't in New York?" really rings true.
Everything happens here. Anything you could think of. The possibilies are endless. Just when you think you've seen it all, New York throws another thing at you. Take for example, the tragic plane crash of New York Yankees pitcher, Cory Lidle. This story was all over the news. I watched coverage of it on ESPN for days afterward. And as far away as the news reached, people still had to ask me, "Did you hear about that plane crash?" Not to put it lightly, but like most other New Yorkers, I did, and I continued about my day. It was indeed a tragedy, no amount of news coverage could do justice to that fact, and as shocking and unusual as it was, it was just another day in New York.
When you have 8 million people all hustling in and out of the same space, some remarkable things are going to happen, considerably more often than in a smaller town. One of the reasons I like New York as much as I do, is because all those remarkable things are there, and I am there to witness them or even be a part of them. It is enlivening. My favorite part of it is the characters. New York is full of characters, and you get to be introduced to new ones everyday.
For example, since I have been here, I have seen two people, in as many months, who, while walking around publicly, have soiled themselves and not bothered to change their pants or cover it up. I have seen a countless number of homeless people, but none more memorable than the one guy who was so clever to be singing, "Ain't Too Proud to Beg," for his subway entertainment. I recently saw a little person, or midget, standing outside a building smoking a cigarette (all this time they told us it stunted your growth and yet nobody believed it).
New Jersey is not nearly as exciting because you don't have the wild stories or outlandish characters; as least they don't seem to occur as often. Maybe the reason I don't catalogue my thoughts while walking around New Jersey is because most of them consist of anger and loathing towards the very state I'm walking around in.
Truth be told, I actually composed a beautiful essay that was the second half of this one, but due to a computer user error, most of it got deleted and I haven't had my wits about me to finish it until now. Last night's "Lyndhurst walk", as Adam and I have dubbed it, gave me inspiration to finish my thought on why exactly New York is just that much better than New Jersey.
It could be the possibility that New Jersey is just sub-par in its living conditions than most of the other states in the union, not just New York. But because I hold New York in such high regard that when placed alongside New Jersey, as it is geographically, New Jersey just seems that much worse. The case in point of my argument is the New Jersey transit bus system. Any transit system in any city in America is far from perfect, but New Jersey's just seems to be inconvenient for me alone. In most situations, I bring the consequences on myself, because I am aware of the schedules and the routes and how to retrieve information from the website and phone line, but I feel that in some way, New Jersey owes me something for living here. The "Lyndhurst walk" is the 2.5 mile walk Adam and I sometimes have to walk late at night when the local bus is not running any more and there are no cabs to be dispatched.
This is a feat we've had to perform several times, and thankfully, it has not been extremely cold, as I am sure once it gets to that point, it will feel less like New Jersey and more like Siberia, Russia, in Dr. Zhivago when they could only film 30 seconds at a time to keep the actors' eyeballs from freezing. Thankfully, I'm luckier to be in New Jersey than in Siberia or Canada or South America. That doesn't mean I like it any more, though.
New Jersey just makes it hard on you. When I went to Newark to get my refrigerator, I fought through pouring rain, waiting for buses, standing in the wet cold, and walking through the dirty, wet streets of Newark to get to the shady, back-alley refrigerator dealer that was my refuge.
Newark is one of the crummiest cities I've ever been to. It could have been the weather and the circumstances, but like most other cities in New Jersey, Newark just seems to be a cheap imitation of a real American city. I'm not really sure why it exists, which brings me to entertain the notion that New Jersey really shouldn't be a state, either.
Geographically, it makes no sense for the land immediately west of Manhattan not to be part of New York, as so much of the land east of it belongs to the state and even the city. Why is there a cutoff? Staten Island is even part of New York, when it is so obviously closer to the land mass that is New Jersey. If New Jersey wasn't a state, the land could have been divided up very easily by New York and Delaware. Delaware is too small a state anyway, it needs some more love, and it could surely do better with New Jersey than what New Jersey has done with it.
Truly, the city is the largest congregation of people in the United States. That alone should speak for itself, but I will expand on it. When you have 8 million people living in such a small compact area, the amount of stuff that happens multiplies astronomically, which is why, "What isn't in New York?" really rings true.
Everything happens here. Anything you could think of. The possibilies are endless. Just when you think you've seen it all, New York throws another thing at you. Take for example, the tragic plane crash of New York Yankees pitcher, Cory Lidle. This story was all over the news. I watched coverage of it on ESPN for days afterward. And as far away as the news reached, people still had to ask me, "Did you hear about that plane crash?" Not to put it lightly, but like most other New Yorkers, I did, and I continued about my day. It was indeed a tragedy, no amount of news coverage could do justice to that fact, and as shocking and unusual as it was, it was just another day in New York.
When you have 8 million people all hustling in and out of the same space, some remarkable things are going to happen, considerably more often than in a smaller town. One of the reasons I like New York as much as I do, is because all those remarkable things are there, and I am there to witness them or even be a part of them. It is enlivening. My favorite part of it is the characters. New York is full of characters, and you get to be introduced to new ones everyday.
For example, since I have been here, I have seen two people, in as many months, who, while walking around publicly, have soiled themselves and not bothered to change their pants or cover it up. I have seen a countless number of homeless people, but none more memorable than the one guy who was so clever to be singing, "Ain't Too Proud to Beg," for his subway entertainment. I recently saw a little person, or midget, standing outside a building smoking a cigarette (all this time they told us it stunted your growth and yet nobody believed it).
New Jersey is not nearly as exciting because you don't have the wild stories or outlandish characters; as least they don't seem to occur as often. Maybe the reason I don't catalogue my thoughts while walking around New Jersey is because most of them consist of anger and loathing towards the very state I'm walking around in.
Truth be told, I actually composed a beautiful essay that was the second half of this one, but due to a computer user error, most of it got deleted and I haven't had my wits about me to finish it until now. Last night's "Lyndhurst walk", as Adam and I have dubbed it, gave me inspiration to finish my thought on why exactly New York is just that much better than New Jersey.
It could be the possibility that New Jersey is just sub-par in its living conditions than most of the other states in the union, not just New York. But because I hold New York in such high regard that when placed alongside New Jersey, as it is geographically, New Jersey just seems that much worse. The case in point of my argument is the New Jersey transit bus system. Any transit system in any city in America is far from perfect, but New Jersey's just seems to be inconvenient for me alone. In most situations, I bring the consequences on myself, because I am aware of the schedules and the routes and how to retrieve information from the website and phone line, but I feel that in some way, New Jersey owes me something for living here. The "Lyndhurst walk" is the 2.5 mile walk Adam and I sometimes have to walk late at night when the local bus is not running any more and there are no cabs to be dispatched.
This is a feat we've had to perform several times, and thankfully, it has not been extremely cold, as I am sure once it gets to that point, it will feel less like New Jersey and more like Siberia, Russia, in Dr. Zhivago when they could only film 30 seconds at a time to keep the actors' eyeballs from freezing. Thankfully, I'm luckier to be in New Jersey than in Siberia or Canada or South America. That doesn't mean I like it any more, though.
New Jersey just makes it hard on you. When I went to Newark to get my refrigerator, I fought through pouring rain, waiting for buses, standing in the wet cold, and walking through the dirty, wet streets of Newark to get to the shady, back-alley refrigerator dealer that was my refuge.
Newark is one of the crummiest cities I've ever been to. It could have been the weather and the circumstances, but like most other cities in New Jersey, Newark just seems to be a cheap imitation of a real American city. I'm not really sure why it exists, which brings me to entertain the notion that New Jersey really shouldn't be a state, either.
Geographically, it makes no sense for the land immediately west of Manhattan not to be part of New York, as so much of the land east of it belongs to the state and even the city. Why is there a cutoff? Staten Island is even part of New York, when it is so obviously closer to the land mass that is New Jersey. If New Jersey wasn't a state, the land could have been divided up very easily by New York and Delaware. Delaware is too small a state anyway, it needs some more love, and it could surely do better with New Jersey than what New Jersey has done with it.
posted by Leland J. Fischer at 1:44 AM
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