Driving in New Jersey

The one thing I don't think I'll ever get used to is driving in this state. Particularly on the Garden State Parkway. The posted speed limit is 65. Now, I am not some sort of puritan who insists at going at or below the speed limit. I'll admit it, I'll sometimes push 5 to 10 miles over.

I follow the "use the left lane for passing only" style of driving and sometimes when I am doing my 10 (ok 15) over in the left lane to pass someone in the right lane, I get nosed. Okay, that's fine. some people go faster than me. But when I am going OVER the speed limit in the right lane and people are nosing me, I get angry. First of all, go in the left lane and pass me if you think I'm going to slow. Second of all, seriously? You are nosing me to go faster when I am already going over the speed limit? As if your speed is the correct speed? It's just some of that selfishness and self-centeredness and entitlement...um, entitlementness (it's now a word) that I find lately.

Perhaps this is all magnified by the tourists here. I sort of want to wave out the window and yell "HEY! you're on vacation! It's okay to relax!" There is a light that has two lanes before the intersection and one lane after. It stands to reason that you would merge every other car--just makes sense, doesn't overly slow down either lane. But I always get these people who gun ahead to get in front of me, before their turn, as if they need to win. People. It's 35 mph. On an island. We're not going anywhere.

Another thing I struggle with is the lack of signage. This is a state built for GPS systems. Because sometimes the street sign for a major intersection either won't appear (frighteningly common) or will appear almost after the turn. This is especially frustrating with the New Jersey jughandles, where you turn right to take a left. I thought I had it all down, major intersections have jug handles, less major do not. But then there is an intersection in Brick where its a straight up left turn and I was in the right lane. I missed the turn, obviously, and had to drive a few blocks before I could find a place to turn around. Confusing.

All of this is probably compounded by the fact I drive a lot, so I get frustrated a lot.

I think I'll take my own advice and relax!

Warren Grove fire

William Gallagher surveys what's left of his Barnegat home.

Today I wrote a wrap-up story on the Warren Grove forest fire, which is now considered 100 percent contained. It is 90 percent controlled, the subtle difference being that contained means it is not going to move forward and continue burning new areas and controlled meaning some hot spots are still burning, but they are not going to leave that area. I hope that makes sense.

I feel odd writing the recap, as if I am taking the story from the reporters who were, literally, in the trenches for this one. But since some of them are taking a well-needed day off, and others resumed their regular beats, it fell to me. And I was glad to do it.

The story I wrote for the paper didn't contain everything I wanted to put in, like the fact that Janice Murray, seen below sifting through a wheelbarrow of china fragments, felt she had to do it for her mother's sake. Her mother, who died 7 months ago, always planned to give Murray the collection of china accumulated over three generations. Murray said she hoped to find at least a cup or a saucer or at least one piece. The family is taking the broken pieces and making it into a mosaic, while Murray's kids are perusing eBay, armed with the names of the china collections Murray's mom had stored.

I didn't put that the National Guard managed to find a wooden cut-out of a bear with a honey pot, inscribed with "a bear and his honey live here" in the remains of William Gallagher's home. Gallagher said his wife would be pleased that the sign, a souvenir from a trip to Smithville, survived the blaze. National Guard members also found the remains of a 35mm camera in the home, curtains Gallagher's wife sewed and remainders of a recently purchased daybed.

The shed's behind the mobile homes both survived the blaze, as did the plastic flowers in front of Gallagher's home. Oddly, several candles in the homes did not burn in the blaze.

Murray said she will always remember summer evenings at her dad's place, where he would pipe in music as everyone sat in the backyard, at a table or on a wooden swing, which also survived the fire. Les Balkie taped music from his travels around the world, and Murray said he had speakers hidden in the woods, so sometimes the sounds of the rainforest, like macau's chirping, would come from the green woods, now black sticks in scorched earth.

Murray found it odd and disheartening that random books, such as a guide to managing diabetes, was found in the home, but books filled with mementos of her mother were lost.


Here are a few more shots from today:


A bonfire grill sits in the middle of once-green woods, burned by a 17,000+acre wildfire. The wooden adridondack chairs survived the blaze.




An American flag taped to a pole by members of the 177th National Guard, in front of a home decimated by the Warren Grove fire.




A member of the 177th National Guard shovels ash from the remainders of a home in Barnegat.




Janice Murray sifts through a wheelbarrow full of china fragments, all that is left of her mother's heirloom china collection.




William Gallagher said his firesafe worked after his home in Barnegat was decimated by the Warren Grove Fire--it saved the insurance papers and mortgage papers he and his wife stored in there. Gallagher said he bought it at a local Staples, several decades ago.

Lies I told

I totally lied to you guys because I promised to tell you what potachos were on Friday, and here it is Monday and you STILL don't know.

Like all good liars, I have an excuse. This weekend was GOR-GE-OUS and any time spent in front of a computer was a total waste of time (aka work on Sunday.)

So what are potachos?
Like nachos, thick potato chips, covered with cheddar, bacon, tomatoes, onions, ketchip and chives with sour cream. In other words, perfection. They were just as delicious as anything with bacon can and should be. Forget how strange they sound and fly/drive to New Brunswick and eat them!

So let's get back to this past weekend thing. What a taste of life to come. Though, life to come will probably be considerably warmer than this, the idea of eating lunch in a sunspot on my back porch, grilling dinner, having a beer on my front porch and leaving all the windows open is definitely part of my future.

Of course, its only a taste as its going to rain the rest of the week, but I do plan on grilling again on Saturday (and tonight for that matter), so I hope it stops raining.

In more other news, this was one of those weekends where I loved my job. First I went to the top of Forked River "mountain" (its more like a tall hill), which is a private area. It was beautiful. Then I went in a rescue boat in a lagoon for a water drill.

Here are a few views from this weekend:

Diversity

This weekend I am heading to New Brunswick for my book club meeting and then to the city to meet with some friends. Since Friday is my day off and I'll already be in Central/North Jersey, I think I'm going to drop by Edison, N.J.

People here always recommend Edison to me as an Indian spot and seem surprised that I already know about it. Are you kidding? Growing up in Minnesota, I knew all about Edison and Jackson Heights (and Devon Ave. in Chicago, but that was closer to home) and all these other "mini-Indias." It seemed mythical and awesome to me at the same time. New Jersey! Crawling with desis! Indian publications in mainstream media! Indian advertisements in train stations!

What I never realized is how big of a state this small state is. I wrote earlier about the subsections of New Jersey and how distinct they are from one another. Part of that is that the majority of this huge Indian population is clustered around major metropolitan areas, like North/Central Jersey (aka NYC) or Cherry Hill (aka Philadelphia). In a sense, I am even more cut-off from the Indian population than I was in Minnesota.

I've always been a little behind on movies/music/styles from Indian, especially compared to my East Coast cousins, but without occasionally overhearing the Hindi satellite my grandpa watches at home or going to Desi parties where they are spinning the latest music and someone just came back from the "motherland," I am REALLY behind on things.

All of this is because I watched a movie yesterday which, up until a few weeks ago, i thought was fairly new. When I mentioned it to my (Dobbs Ferry-dwelling) aunt, she was like "oh that's not new, we saw it in the theater months ago."

oops.

I might try to do a better job of keeping up, but I also don't necessarily care that much about the music/movie/style aspect. I guess that is the only aspect that is lacking because I am keeping up on the more pertinent (and intellectual) issues via blogs that I frequently read.

But damn, I love me some Bollywood music.