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The Bus from Zone 5
February 12th, 2009 | Stephen Bailey
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This wasn't meant to be a 'trip' of any real kind. I was simply dropping my car off for repairs and needed to get to work. My nephew Scott and his buddy Damien work on cars. Rebuilding, repairing customizing and racing Hondas to be more specific.
So I felt completely confident about leaving my 1996 Civic's repair needs–oil, plugs and (gasp) front/rear axle replacement–in their hands.
It's been a while since I've taken a bus to NYC. A couple of months at least. It's been a whole lot longer since I've taken the bus from way up in this neck of Bergen County, NJ.
Twenty five years in fact.
NJ Transit's less-than-logical zoning practices places this area in Zone 5. All that means to me is it will cost $5.25 to get to NYC and will probably take about an hour. I planted myself in the first seat so I'd have a good view. Of what, I wasn't sure.
Meandering thru these suburbs, I jealously ogle the mansions on Kinderkamack Road until an unsettling series of flashbacks began further up the road. I felt a cold, dark pit in my belly as we crossed over Oradell Avenue. Vivid memories of walking up that mile-long hill to a school filled with bullies and unbearable expectations.
I got into Bergen Catholic High School based on scholastic merits. Something I was proud of. That is until I met the rich brats and assorted legacies who resented this poor kid from 'that part' of Jersey coming to their school.
This area does not hold many (or really any) happy memories for me. Thankfully, we soon passed thru the town of River Edge where I saw an Italian restaurant called Sanducci's. I had my 30th birthday party there complete with a tombstone cake and black frosting. We all had black teeth in the photos. It was nothing a little beer and hearty laughter couldn't rinse off.
My friend Susan owns a flower shop nearby. I built her website.
The bus I'm on happens to be an express bus, so we're nearing the highway. At the intersection of Kinderkamack Road and Main Street, nothing looks the same. Except for a handful of places, most everything is new or gone. I used to spend a lot of time in this area. Haven't been around here in years and I don't recognize much.
Ah, progress.
On the highway, the traffic crawls and the woman next to me transforms herself from sleepy housewife to stylish business woman. Precisely painting the coming day on to her face. This despite the efforts of many bumps and swerves from the road below to create abstract art. How do women do that?
As we exit onto Teaneck Road, I'm reminded of my first job in a recording studio. That was in the summer of 1986. Oh what was the name? Alpha? Apex? I can't believe I don't remember. Well, the anxious ambitions of that 19-year-old kid have been long buried beneath the rubble of unfulfilled goals.
I should rediscover that part of me.
Not so much the part that wanted to be a recording engineer and sound designer, but the part that was willing to take chances. It saddens me to think that, by the time I was in my early 20s, I had already lost that sense of adventure.
There's Holy Name Hospital. A lot of time spent there. Some good. Most not. I went there after totaling my van and cracking my head on the windshield in 1995. It's the reason why I have my 1996 Civic that my nephew and his buddy are working on.
Ah, connections.
We pass the Glenpointe Marriott on Frank W. Burr Blvd in Teaneck. I've been to my share of fun parties there. Wait, was that always the name of this stretch of road? It's not Fort Lee Road? It connects to Fort Lee Road. Doesn't it? Anyway, we hop on to the NJ Turnpike and finally there's the sense that this is in fact an express bus.
Passing thru our famed swampland and rumored final resting place of Jimmy Hoffa, I see the Meadowlands Sports Complex which has been growing even more complex of late. I remember when it first opened. A racetrack, a football field and an arena. Now I can't imagine what half these structures are or will become.
Closer in my view are the many hotels and corporate headquarters that line our approach to the twisting ramp leading to Route 495. They come in all shapes and sizes. More are coming all the time. When will it end? Or will it ever end?
It's very unsettling how we are now in a temporary lane running against on coming traffic. But this is how we get to the tunnel and it's done everyday with only one major incident that I can remember. Some poor bus driver (and passengers) found himself in the wrong lane, going the wrong way, at the very, very wrong time.
Thankfully, that is rare.
Despite the near 50-minute ride, I'm actually ahead of schedule. Once at the Port Authority at Eight Ave & 40th Street, I decided to take the long walk to my office on Park Avenue and 32nd Street.
The exercise will do me good. As will the continued reflection on all of these emotions stirred by a simple bus ride. But first…
Um, Zero Water Flush urinals in the Port Authority? Yeah, I'm not really sure how I feel about that. I know they conserve water but the puddles of strange urine were hard enough to take even with water to dilute them just a bit.
Related Topics: bus, career, Cars, travel
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The Bus from Zone 5
(via Facebook, MySpace, Digg, email and more)
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