A pristine home with freshly cleaned linens on the bed in the guest room, carefully tucked into each corner of the mattress. Freshly cut strawberries on top of whole grain waffles, with a sprinkle of powdered sugar. The powerful aroma of just-brewed coffee dancing from the top of a small, but appropriately-sized cup of delicious coffee.
“Amazing,” I mumbled to myself, pondering the possibility of one day living in this kind of world every day.
The final dab of paint from my first stroke came to a halt on my new canvas. Princeton Junction, NJ delighted me in only the way “home” truly can.
SWOOOOOOOSH!!
An Amtrak Acela train rushes by the NJ Transit train station in Princeton Junction. My ears ring with child-like excitement as the Dinky sings its proud song on its return trip from Princeton. New York City’s amazing, yet vile arm finds a way to stretch down into the nicest of New Jersey suburbs like a virus through a newly-obtained host. Like duped, white-blood cells, New Jerseyians flock to the northeastern hub in search of culture and excitement.
I sought a new hue for my canvas.
Like swimming through the air, I walked down 33rd St. forcefully admiring the humidity that clogged even the widest open areas of New York City on July 5, 2008. Rain fell providing a cleansing, aerial assault on the Big Apple, but did not provide the relief needed to break the city free of its shroud of humidity.
The wheels of my 50+ pounds of luggage shrieked as they held their breath, submerging themselves along the gutters of every street side. They re-emerged, took a beep breath and dove back down again. Eventually they found themselves roughly tossed into the dirt-coated rear compartment of a bright yellow taxi.
Meanwhile, a recently sealed New York Giants Super Bowl Champions memorabilia set skipped unknowingly in sync with the 50+ pounds of luggage. Unlike the luggage though, the Super Bowl memorabilia did not shriek. Although it was unable to fully comprehend its new surroundings, it felt a sense of calm and “home.” The same sensation I felt only hours before, while sitting down to my freshly cut strawberries and powdered sugar.
Would I react like the memorabilia, or more like the luggage?
