Strolling down Bright Street I spotted an end-of-fall red- and gold-leafed tree interspersed among solar-paneled poles that power the street lights. I’m impressed, never seen that before. Jersey City has a splendid boardwalk bordering the Hudson River with the most awesome view of the New York skyline. If the weather holds out tomorrow we’re taking the ferry to the World Trade Center stop before heading uptown on the subway.
Jersey City is much closer to Manhattan and all its glories than where Brook used to live on 207th Street. Jersey City isn’t as crowded as New York City. Okay, there aren’t many folks roaming the streets on Thanksgiving. One grandmother tried mightily to get her tiny granddaughter to walk more quickly, but recalcitrant Emma wouldn’t budge. (“Emma, what’s wrong? Comon’ Emma,” she repeated).
I didn’t much like Emma’s grandmother either (if I’m ever a grandmother I’d be a lot nicer).
Now I’m happy sitting in Brook and Gianmarco’s loft apartment in their Jersey City historic industrial building. Wish Ethan and Dan were here too.
We’re going to have the most luscious Thanksgiving dinner ever. A turkey just off the farm, Brussel sprouts sauteed in garlic butter, tons of other fun veggies, mashed potatoes with real gravy, homemade biscuits and apple pie lovingly created by Gian. And the best olives I’ve ever had.
Jersey City rocks because the yuppy Hudson Green market by the river had peach ginger sorbet and jalapeno chocolate sorbet that I bought as the Southwestern contribution to our dessert bonanza.
Am I “grated full” of joy to be here? (A student once wrote in an essay that she was “grated full.” Not joking. Those silly high school students.)
Thanksgiving reverie. I’m already sipping a glass of Malbec from Argentina, looking out at the NYC skyline in that sublime light that illuminates Mount Desert Island in September and spectacular Tucson sunsets. Here I am in Jersey City, which so rocks because Brook and Gianmarco live here.