Yesterday Was Once Tomorrow

We, at least me, are halfway though a weekend that's been equal parts driving, family fun and nostalgia. We rolled on down the highway from The Land of Steady Habits to Whatchew Lookin' At? (Connecticut to New Jersey) as Margaret and Adam's son, Rob, wed his true love, Jess.

It happened, as so many Jersey romances do DTS, down the shore. We even had enough time for me to half-heartedly search in a target rich environment for a watering hole from my youth, The North Pole Bar, in Point Pleasant that had a 364 day Santa who greeted customers (you can guess what day, or more specifically night, Santa was off), but some things are not to be, and the North Pole Bar was one of them. (Unless maybe it was in Point Pleasant Beach and if you don't think there's a difference in that distinction you don't get DTS).

It's been four decades since I spent that much time on the Parkway and it can be another four before it happens again and I will not complain, but driving the Parkway is like revisiting an old house you lived in along ago, and all the uneven floors and squeaky doors are still where you remember them.
I was half expecting the view out the car windows to be in black and white as the Parkway has always struck me as more ancient than timeless.

We're drifting back north today, in no especial hurry, I confess. I think I drive slowly when I'm home mainly because New Jersey isn't my home anymore, no matter how much I like to think otherwise. I realized I always expect to come upon myself as I was in my years at Rutgers, maybe buy myself a beer and tell the young me stories of the Great World beyond George Street.

I'm an expert now, too late, but not too far gone. I don't think he'd believe me. When I was his age then I didn't know anyone my age now-come to think of it, I still don't and I'm not sure that's a bad thing. What I lack in photographs of those back-in-the-day days, I make up in memories, so clear and detailed they frighten me as they steal up on me, usually as the long, late afternoon rays of the sun are relinquishing the light of the day and things often seem to be what they are not.

"It must have been summer...The Beatles were singing 'Love Is All You Need.' I held her hand as we walked through the arcade, two young believers on a three dollar spree."
-bill kenny