Smooth Sailing

I left Chuck’s house in Smithtown at about 12pm on Saturday. That would give me an hour to get to Mammaroneck in Westchester County for my lunch with my friend, Katie. I knew an hour wasn’t enough so I let Katie know I’d be a bit late and flew down the Northern State Parkway toward the Clearview Expressway. I always avoid the Cross Island Parking Lot.

A few minutes late turned into an hour and a half.

I was cruising in the left lane of the Grand Central Parkway when one of those ever reliable traffic signs informed me that there was a car fire on my favorite bridge, the Trogs Neck.  I’d have to jump on the Cross Island to take the Whitestone, the exit for which was coming up in less than a mile. Considering my love for my new car and the horrible reason why I got it, I just couldn’t bring myself to pull one of the crazy moves that my 17-year-old self was famous for.

I ended up taking the Clearview to the  Long Island Expressway east in order to hook up with the Cross Island a few exits back*.

*Editor’s Note: By the time I realized I could have just stayed on the GCP to get onto the Van Wyke it was already too late.

I was welcomed with bumper to bumper traffic all the way to the Cross Island exit. Since I rarely take the expressway from the Clearview anymore I was pretty annoyed to find out that you can’t actually get to the Cross Island north from the eastbound side of the LIE.

I got off a couple of exits later on a road that I could have SWORN hooked up with the Northern State/Grand Central/WHATEVERTHEFUCKYOUWANNACALLIT but didn’t. I eventually got back on to the LIE west, which crawled until the exit for the Cross Island.

So, at 1:15 I’m on the phone with Katie, who is giving me the traffic update and apologizing for the craziness. Silly girl, she’s not on the road causing traffic. How is it her fault?

After crawling past the entrance for the Throgs Neck, I hit the gas and I’m back at 70mph. It was short lived, though, as I once again found myself rolling at 5 mph along the Whitestone Bridge.

Roll. Stop. Roll. Stop.

With a tow truck and ambulances in the distance, I figured there must have been an accident by the tolls holding up the flow of the already slow moving traffic.

At sometime around 2pm, already an hour late for my lunch with Katie, I was flying at 75 mph on 95 north.

So I ask you one question, blog readers.

WHERE THE HELL WERE ALL THESE PEOPLE GOING AT 12PM ON A SATURDAY THAT IT CAUSED THIS MUCH TRAFFIC????????

The Final Straw

The title of this blog was suppose to be “On the Road Again” but considering yesterday’s events the topic has changed a bit.

Yesterday, I was in a pretty bad accident in Long Beach on my way home from covering an event. Everyone is okay, but both cars are most likely totaled. I won’t go into the details of the accident because it’s not really necessary and I definitely don’t need a lawsuit on my hands.

The accident came after an entire day of dodging bad drivers. There was the woman who cut me off to make an illegal right turn, the idiot from Jersey who used a highway on/off ramp as an acceleration lane to pass people on the highway and the douchbag Nassau Community College student who also sped up when he saw me changing lanes.

Famous last words to a couple of coworkers was, “I really feel that at some point before I leave this place, I will get into an accident.” I didn’t actually expect yesterday would be the day. I’ve been doing the commute for almost two years now, putting about 60,000 miles on my car so the chances I would have left NY unscathed were slim to none.

My fault, her fault, no matter. Yesterday’s accident was the final straw dealing with driving in NY.

I’m tired of being tailgated and watching people blow red lights. I’m tired of people speeding up when they see me changing lanes and not move out of the way for a fire truck on a call. I’m tired of people speeding down residential streets and honking when you don’t race off the line when a light turns green.

In March Chuck and I planned on heading down to North Carolina again for a job fair geared toward people who have degrees but lack a teaching certificate. We would only be there for two days, but we looked forward to a chance to speak with district administrators about our futures in North Carolina. There, Chuck could say, “I drove 12 hours to be in Raleigh for two days and to speak to you before driving 12 hours home. I am serious about making a move.”

With a natural desire to hire one of your own, it is very hard to be considered for jobs from another state. Especially a state that has been exporting North Carolina residents for years now. The fair was a chance to prove how serious we were about moving down.

Chuck said we are still heading to this fair next month, but I’d be lying if my current situation isn’t a blow to our plans and my confidence.

It does, however, enforce the goal to move as soon as we can to a place that is far away from the Long Island lifestyle.

Where tumble weeds grow

About two years ago I attended a New York Islanders – Pittsburgh Penguins game. Dynasty era coach, Al Arbour, was back on the bench for one more game. The Nassau Coliseum was packed. It was a hell of a game and every time the crowd got riled up the building shook adding to the passion and fire the fans and the players felt that day.

Me and my friend Christine pregame at Champions in the Marriot before heading over to the Coliseum.

That feeling of a crumbling Coliseum is something I love about that old battered building. It just seems to add something to being a spectator. I’ve sat behind the glass and against the back wall and no matter where you are, there isn’t a bad seat in the house.

Okay…I take that back. Sitting behind the camera crew blows and I recommend heading up a couple of rows if possible.

Compared to the arenas of our rival teams, the New York Rangers (Madison Square Garden) and New Jersey Devils (the Prudential Center), the Coliseum looks sad and pathetic. But, unless you’re one of those corporate a-holes that attend Rangers games, forget getting a good cheap seat at MSG (I’m convinced this is why D-bag Rangers fans come to Islanders games. They can’t afford tickets and train fare to MSG so they just come to the Coliseum and start fights).

The Devils have a great home at The Rock, which was built relatively recently. The sight lines are great as we had awesome seats even though our noses were bleeding. I don’t know if it was the crowd or the arena, but the place was quiet. Maybe I can blame it on the Islanders shut out and some pissed off Devils fans, but it was eerie how quiet the arena felt compared to the Coliseum.

I’ll admit, I can’t remember the last Islanders game I was at that warranted any type exuberance and I think that November 2007 game was the last time I recall the Coliseum being full at all. Frustrated fans are staying home instead of paying high prices for a night of disappointment. If I want to be depressed I can do it at home, on my couch with a cheap beer in my hand.

I think the fact that DP is actually in net proves how old this photo is.

The Lighthouse Project is also a depressing story that I think shows the sheer incompetence of Long Island politicians.

I agree with those that say the project is too big. Anyone that drives on Hempstead Turnpike knows that the road is a nightmare even on a good day. Add more commercial and residential property and you have a nonstop traffic jam. Route 24 might as well be a parking lot since those will be nonexistent.

Ready to pay $20 to park near the arena, like at The Rock, or possible a couple of bucks to wait for a trolley to drive you over from the office buildings across the street? The Coliseum is the only place in Nassau with ample parking and personally, I like leaving my car at the Marriot for free, grabbing a bite to eat and walking over to the game.

Too worried about holding on to power, the Town of Hempstead has kept this project tangled in red tape for longer than I’ve been a hockey fan. Unfortunately, the people that are ultimately affected by the project are the ones casting ballots and the people that really want it done have no say.

Now the Town talks about picking up the ball and getting it rolling to finally get something done about the desolate area. It was only after Islanders owner Charles Wang all but dropped the project and the media frenzy that followed that the Town said, “Well let’s get moving on something because it’s important for Long Island.”

How do Long Island politicians think they can attract new businesses if they’re going to be put through the wringer before anything is even built? “Well, we’d love to look at Long Island, but who wants to deal with those people?”

It’s this kind of bullshit that keeps Long Island from progressing and the N.Y. Islanders and us islanders will suffer.

Some links for your reading pleasure:

Not that I want to send anyone to Newsday’s crappy-ass site:

NHL Commish Slams Hempstead Over Lighthouse Project

These were published in the East Meadow Herald:

Town OKs plan for ‘scaled-down’ development

Issues galore for the town of Hempstead to tackle

Exploring other options

Still room for ‘Smart Growth’

Life is a Highway

My first car was a 1999 Ford Escort. It was hardly the sports car, but with my lead foot I certainly drove it like one. In high school I was one of the few that had my license and a car so I was responsible for toting everyone around.

I put 53,000 miles on my 2007 Toyota Corolla since purchasing it in Sept. 2007

Back then I would volunteer to drive on all road trips. I wouldn’t hesitate heading into the city or out to Montauk on a whim. My friend Christine and I would get in my car and just drive around Long Island for hours with no destination in mind. I got my first taste of rush hour traffic as I would travel 20 miles to my job as a lifeguard in the summer.

I had such a deep love of driving that I would often travel far distances only to return a day or two later. Like when and old friend and I hopped into my car and drove about 10 hours from Holbrook to Norfolk, Va. to pick up my ex-boyfriend, only to turn around and come back less than 24 hours later. Another ex-boyfriend lived in Pennsylvania so I spent many hours driving on Interstate 80 only to return after a day and a half.

That all changed two years ago.

My 90-mile commute to and from work each day has officially broken my love of driving. Driving in Nassau County is one of my most hated tasks. Thanks to my proximity to Ocean Parkway, I sit in minimal traffic, but it is still enough to suck the life out of me. My back hurts, my hips hurt, my knees hurt, all pains that I attribute to sitting for long hours.

Each day I come home tired, irritated and cranky. I’ve come home crying and incredibly angry. Now, I avoid driving whenever possible. I still do my long trips, but I do them with some resistance. I know it’s the only way I will see many of my friends and I can usually focus on how happy I am to see them rather than how irritated I am driving through Nassau and the city.

Two years ago a road trip down south would have excited me. Now, I’m dreading every minute of it. We considered flying and renting a car, but the cost was so high, neither of us could spend the money in good conscious.

For as much Chuck loves driving, he has little patience with people on the road and can quickly become angry. He starts driving like a jerk and I yell at him and before we know it a fight has erupted because some guy didn’t signal before changing lanes. He is also no Magellan as he lacks an internal compass. He still gets lost going to the sushi place we go to at least twice a month if we go from my house.

In order to keep the peace, I already drive for most long trips. As irritated as I become, I have more patience and in the end, my sacrifice keeps us happy. Because of that, I anticipate driving 99 percent of the time down to North Carolina, through all the cities we plan on visiting and back north to New York.

This makes me feel kind of resentful, but I’m not as angry at my boyfriend as I am for the long commute that caused me to feel this way about something I used to find so enjoyable. Two years of traffic, rude and  incompetent drivers has made me hate stepping foot in my car.

My Escort finally broke down in 2007 with less than 89,000 miles on it. I now pay an obscene amount of money for a 2007 Toyota Corolla that  has 67,000 miles.

If life is a highway, these days, I’d rather take the train.

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I Heart Long Island

Three years ago I had an argument with my ex-boyfriend who was from Pennsylvania. I told him that I wasn’t leaving Long Island and if I did at any point, I would have to move back. His lack of understanding my passion for the Island was one of the many reasons we broke up. Looking back on it now, I may have been subconsciously using my passion as an excuse to avoid taking the next step with him, but that’s neither here nor there.

Words can’t describe how I feel when I drive on the Robert Moses Causeway and see the sun rise over the Great South Bay and catch a glimpse of the never ending ocean on the horizon. I love our small towns, vineyards, farms and, when I’m feeling like a college student again, the local bars.

I love the change in seasons and how it never gets too hot, but never gets too cold. I don’t venture into Manhattan often, but I like that I’m just a train ride away when I feel the need to meet up with a city-living friend or visit a museum.

I love the pizza and a good bagel.

Sometimes I forget about all the things that I love because all I can think about lately are all the things I hate.

I hate that I work 35 miles away from my job, but it takes me an hour to get there because of traffic. I also hate that I have to plan my entire existence on Long Island, and leaving Long Island, on traffic. I hate that when I’m in Nassau County I have to ask questions like, “If I park here, am I going to get towed?” or “Does it have a separate lot or do I need to park on the street?”

I hate that people aren’t polite enough to say thank you when you hold the door open for them or let them cross the street without running them over. I hate that one person will cause 20 minutes of traffic just to get someplace 10 seconds faster. I hate that gas is 10 cents more expensive here than other places in the state.

I hate that property taxes cost more than most mortgages. I hate that the cheapest rent in a complex in a decent area is $1,100 a month plus utilities. I hate that the cheaper option is living in someone’s basement.

Most of all, I hate that the cost of living is so high and the salaries are so low that in order to take the next step in a serious relationship, I need to ask my parents to convert part of their house into a separate apartment or move away.

In the past two years I’ve been hit with a hard dose of reality. One day I’m going to have to leave.