Transit

Today we are departing from a hotel or motel (I never can tell which is which) from an undisclosed location in New Jersey where we've spent most of the weekend as part of a surprise organized by my brother, Adam. I'm always surprised I can find his house since I'm not especially discriminating in my dotage and I don't see him that often so after awhile all these forty-ish white lawyer guys look the same so it was nice to be on the side of the surprise equation.

Every time we go to Jersey I'm always disappointed that there's not more of  a sense of homecoming for me and then I remember it's been almost forty years since I lived in the state and aside from seeing my callow youth self somewhere in a dream sequence what do I hope to have happen?

There's a great bar perhaps in Point Pleasant Beach, or Point Pleasant, I forget which, called the North Pole with a guy out front dressed in a Santa Claus outfit everyday of the year (except Christmas, who says irony is lost on Jerseyites?). I wonder if for my last act, or close to it, if I'm supposed to end up there. Every once in awhile I'll have a dream I can remember after awakening and it always seems to have something to do with that bar.Gotta admit if that's really the finale, I'm setting the bar sort of low.Bar. Get it? I missed my calling as a stand-up comic.

Remember to tip your waitress. Anyway, we're racing Hurricane Sandy up the Eastern Seaboard and though the fireworks aren't hailing over Little Eden tonight I have the sinking feeling it will be dark enough soon enough when something wicked this way comes.
-bill kenny