of the river.
Last night, I watched the pink tones of a sunset outside my Madison loft window.
Today, I took the scenic road from Newark Airport to NYC. (Yes, it's the Empire State Building nicely framed by NJ industrial parks.)
When I was young and lived in New York, there were only two reasons to ever go to New Jersey: to splash in the bahtub of a pool with a million other kids at Bare Mountain on a hot Sunday, or to hold your nose and zip on the NJ Turnpike to D.C. I never ever went to New Jersey for any other reason that I remember. I crossed the river to Queens, Bronx, Staten Island, Connecticut -- any place, any place at all. But not New Jersey. Somehow Manhattanites had a thing for that state.
So it is no surprise that I have never in my life flown into Newark.
Today I am declaring a new affection: Newark, I love you. While planes are circling over troubled (weather-wise) La Guardia, I came in smoothly, early, without a glitch.
Oh, New York, New York! So crowded, muggy, loud. It's great to be here.
