Through the Jersey City Looking Glass

Manhattan often come across as physically and even mentally exhausting. The neon lights that make you squint at night, walking through the canyons of concrete and yet…raw excitement that can elicit the most agoraphobic individual to start dancing in the street.

Grove Street was bustling this morning as I walked to Dunkin Donuts for a cup of coffee, donning my running shorts, sneakers, a white t-shirt and my Native sunglasses. Contrary to Weezer’s early morning ditty that rang reverberated through my skull, the workers were not “going home.” The Grove Street PATH Station was ingesting rider after rider like a hungry frog devouring bugs on a humid night.

I did not mind strutting through the most highly trafficked area with my hair appearing like a punk rockstar. Jersey City silently proclaimed that it is a city outside of New York. It accepted all kinds and proudly stood side-to-side with fair Gotham. However, this morning it felt more like a quaint suburb, shuttling its children to the nearby school.

At the conclusion of a long day of work, I found myself in a unique position of freedom with no responsibilities whatsoever. In lieu of gluing myself to a lounge chair and popping a fresh cigarette in my mouth, I opted to take a run from Grove St., all the way down Columbus Drive to the Hudson River. In contrast to the previous night’s run-in with the vast river, this evening brought a brighter vantage point before the sun crashed through the wood and concrete roofs in west Jersey City.

From this view, even Manhattan reflected a shade of innocence…a hue that had not previously made it on to my canvas while painting throughout the big city.  Acting as a courier, a ferry slowly streaked across the river, mixing in this new shade with the pre-established colors of Jersey City as it passed by the Hyatt to that stood beside me.

My cell phone shrieked as a cohort pinged me via an instant messaging program. I retrieved my phone and read the correspondence. My hands dangled over the cool metallic railing lining the edges of the pier. A shiver shot down my spine as I pictured my phone slipping through my long fingers and into the dark liquid abyss below. I took a step back and smiled at the now unimposing city across from me.

As I turned to head back to Grove Street, I noticed the pier was quite full and happening. Runners had their choice of the land…they did not dodge slow-moving pedestrians like they must in the city. Young couples pushed strollers around the dock allowing their offspring an peek at the metropolis across the way. Everyone seemed content. Three policemen sauntered passed a 9-11 memorial, respecting the remembrance, serving and protecting without intimidation.

Life was calm and peaceful in Jersey City tonight…and so was I.