Being back in New Jersey for summer has been a time traveling experience. The hazy, hot and humid days make my skin sweat and never dry. The thunderstorms that come every few days can wake me in the middle of the night or make driving home from the shore quite exciting. Sitting down to eat Jersey corn and tomatoes brings a smile to my face. Fireflies provide fireworks every night. I love it.
I am transported back to my childhood at every turn. As my feet burn on the flagstone sidewalks near the beach, I am again seven years old. As I shuck corn to cook and eat, I am eleven and sitting with my grandmother on the back porch doing the same task. As I see the fireflies I am five and chasing them – hoping to catch one and keep it in a jar to see its light up close. I have time these days to feel the summer as I did as a child – long and lazy.
Another part of me though is right here in 2007. Folks in New Jersey and New York seem to enjoy complaining – it seems to be a form of entertainment. Talk radio is made up of talk about corrupt politicians and “terrible” laws being passed. When I am in New York City, I am newly overwhelmed with the size and the crowds,the noise and the dirt. Everyone is very busy, even when it is very hot. The real estate section of the New York Times seems only to have homes that start at over a million dollars. The stores on 5th Ave are very expensive and so are the cab rides.
Having lived in Seattle for 26 years and then so recently driving across the country, I see the Northeast with different eyes. I used to think everyone in the country aspired to living somewhere between Boston and Washington D.C. Surely it was the best part of the country, the most sophisticated and lively place to be. Now I see a place that seems so very different from the rest of the country as to be almost out of step with the regular world. Or perhaps it is just me as I interact with the Northeast. Perhaps it is me who is out of step.
There is so much that is a part of my roots and heritage here and yet it is no longer me. I had to come back to the east to see if it was calling me back and now I know that it is not. I yearn for more the more open spaces of the west and the attitudes of tolerance that I know in Seattle.
And yet… I want to be here when the corn is ready and the tomatoes and red and the lightning bugs come out at night.
