Trouble On The BIGGY Departure

Because this sort of thing has a tendency to disappear I’m attaching the flight track from FlightAware.com.

USAir’s Flight 1549 made a controlled splashdown in the Hudson River this afternoon. As I type this it looks like everyone got out safely.

Weather wasn’t a problem. Light snow was gone by the time the flight took off. The winds were moderate.

Flight 1549 was cleared for a BIGGY departure, taking off on Runway 2, heading basically north with a left turn scheduled. The plane flew over the western end of Long Island Sound, over the Bronx then sharply south over the Hudson River north of the George Washington Bridge.

Because this sort of thing has a tendency to disappear I’m attaching the flight track from FlightAware.com.

03:26PM  	40.80  	-73.87  	151  	1800 level  	New York TRACON

03:27PM 	40.83 	-73.87 	174 	2800 climbing 	New York TRACON

03:27PM 	40.86 	-73.88 	194 	3200 climbing 	New York Center

03:28PM 	40.88 	-73.90 	202 	2000 descending 	New York TRACON

03:28PM 	40.86 	-73.93 	215 	1600 descending 	New York Center

03:29PM 	40.83 	-73.95 	194 	1200 descending 	New York TRACON

03:29PM 	40.82 	-73.97 	191 	1300 climbing 	New York Center

03:30PM 	40.78 	-74.00 	189 	400 descending 	New York TRACON

03:31PM 	40.75 	-74.02 	153 	300 descending 	New York TRACON

flight_track_map.rvt.gif

Rand McSteffie

Steffie’s college roommate is back at school for some summer classes. Steffie thought it might be nice to bring her their shared television and some other things we’d stored here in Connecticut. So yesterday afternoon, with her friend Sam in tow, Steffie set out for Long Island.

It’s really not a difficult trip and before long they were there.

Flash forward to departure time. By this time Sam, suffering from a headache, dozes off in the front seat. Steffie hops onto the Meadowbrook and heads home.

Everything was going so well, so smoothly until she got to the Cross Island Parkway. That’s how Helaine and I get to the Throgs Neck Bridge. The problem is, just at the point you exit to the Cross Island there’s a sign beckoning you to a different exit for the Throgs Neck!

Confused, Steffie followed the sign… and so began her great adventure through the boroughs!

Instead of heading north, into the Bronx, she was heading west toward Manhattan. Somehow she got on the Long Island Expressway, driving past the apartment where I grew up, past Queens College and the New York World’s Fair site.

Her exact route isn’t certain. She doesn’t totally remember and probably had no way of knowing anyway. I am reconstructing it from a conversation we had a little after 1:00 AM.

“You know that tunnel,” Steffie asked?

“Did you go up on a very high section of roadway with a great view of Manhattan?”

Holy crap! Steffie had made her way to Long Island City and was heading into the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

“It went on forever and was really narrow,” she said.

She’s right. The twin tubes of the Midtown Tunnel run around 1¼ miles. The lanes are narrow and the tunnel does curve. Even worse, as you leave you’re faced with three choices, “Uptown, Midtown and Downtown,” none of which would make any sense to Steffie!

She remembers Lexington Avenue and seeing Times Square on her right. She was totally lost.

“You know the glass building?”

Glass building? I looked at my toes – where all answers emanate. Glass building… uh… “You mean the Javits Center?”

It was around this time in the conversation that Steffie admitted that she knew she’d drive in Manhattan at some point, but had hope she’d wait until she was around 40.

Back in the car she pulled into a parking lot, hoping to find an attendant. No dice there. She yelled across at a taxicab stopped at a light. As he explained, the light turned green.

The time between a green light and horn honk in Manhattan is measured in milliseconds.

The were signs for the Holland Tunnel. She knew she didn’t want to be there. There were also signs pointing toward the George Washington Bridge. That sounded more familiar.

She didn’t know it at the time, but she was now heading north on the West Side Highway.

On family trips, we often make a decision as we approach the George Washington Bridge. If there’s heavy traffic on the bridge heading into the Bronx, we continue north and wind our way through the Bronx and Westchester. If the coast’s clear, we take the easy way – I-95, the Cross Bronx Expressway.

Steffie looked at the bridge and decided to continue. It’s lucky for her she did, because as it turns out, she would have taken the GWB. She would have headed across the Hudson into New Jersey!

Heading north, the West Side Highway becomes the Henry Hudson Parkway. She drove through the toll, over the Henry Hudson Bridge and into the Riverdale section of the Bronx.

Now nothing looked familiar! Exits came and went, but no names she recognized… until Mosholu Parkway.

Unfortunately for Steffie, she knew the name because we’d had brunch at the Mosholu, a boat moored on the Delaware River in Philadelphia. She took the Mosholu anyway.

Even with a map, it’s tough to reconstruct her trip from here. She did panic a little when she saw signs pointing to Albany. A little after that, a sign for the Hutchinson River Parkway.

Steffie headed north on the “Hutch,” finally breathing a sigh of relief as she passed the “Entering Greenwich” sign. She was back in Connecticut.

The 100 minute trip had taken her four hours. She had visited Queens, Manhattan, The Bronx and was within a few hundred yards of Brooklyn.

Steffie probably expected Helaine or me to get angry. We didn’t.

Do I wish she would have called me at some point? Of course.

It’s a great story we’ll have forever… one of those family fables grandparents will someday tell grandchildren about their mother.


Thanksgiving Recap

I am just beginning to reenter the world of the living. Going to New York was a major shock to my system because of the one day schedule upheaval. I went to work a few hours before I normally wake up.

It was well worth it. Make no mistake about that. I had a great time, in spite of the weather.

Steffie accepted my offer and came along. While I caught a few hours sleep Wednesday evening, she decided to just stretch her day. By 1:15 AM Thanksgiving morning we were getting into a town car for the ride to Manhattan.

The ride started under cloudy skies, but by the time we got to Bridgeport, it was snowing. The snow was light at first, but before the New York line it was covering the road.

The town car blasted along between 65 and 75. I was beginning to get a little panicky. I didn’t want us to be the first Thanksgiving highway statistic!

As we moved through Westchester and into the Bronx, the snow turned to sleet and quickly to rain. Now the highway was just wet.

I asked the driver to stick to the West Side because I assumed some streets would be closed for parade preparations. We headed down the Henry Hudson Parkway, past the beautiful George Washington Bridge. At night the lattice of the bridge’s towers are lit, making it look like a gigantic model bridge. It’s too good looking to be real or functional.

Traffic was light as we transitioned from the Henry Hudson to the West Side Highway. We were doing 74 mph when the cop caught us on radar!

I’ve never been pulled over in New York. It’s an experience. There’s no shoulder on the highway to safely stop, so the cop called through a loudspeaker, telling us to pull off at the next exit.

I got antsy and wanted to intercede. Steffie, wisely, kept me in check. As it turned out, the limo driver had things well in control.

Unbeknown to us, he had a small metal NYPD shield in his wallet. His cousin is a cop in Midtown Manhattan (or so he said – does it really matter). Under the unwritten law of professional courtesy, the officer acted angry, asked the driver if he knew how fast he was going and then walked away. Just like that. Holy cow – those things do work!

My instructions from ABC said to meet at 79th Street and Central Park West. There was no way to drive there, so we got out at 77th and Columbus.

IMG_3112I talked my way past a young guy standing security at Columbus Avenue, only to get questioned again at Central Park West. This person was tall, unhappy, and actually speaking into his wrist! When I asked if he was with the police or Macy’s he said, “Both.”

He was a little more thorough, wanting to see some ID. I don’t have an NYPD press pass, but I did have my Channel 8 ID. He looked at it for a few milliseconds and said OK – but he’d accompany us.

We headed uptown, past workers getting ready to march. We walked by the stately, somewhat Goth, Museum of Natural History. When we got to the next corner it was 81st Street.

There is no 79th and Central Park West! Uh oh.

I called Chika, my producer. She too was on her way. She asked me to stay put until she got there. Steffie and I stood under my umbrella in the rain. We were next to the Manhattan North command post and there was a constant buzz of activity.

When Chika got there, we realized not only was there no 79th and CPW – there was no live truck! I was standing there wondering if we’d get on the air at all. That thought only lasted a few seconds, because this type of logistical miscue happens all the time. Somehow, it always works… well almost always.

IMG_3014The truck ended up on Park Drive South, with a long cable run to the parade. The photographer, Mark, set up and we were ready to go.

Before leaving Connecticut I had cut the audio for a package on the parade. That track was for timing. Now, in the truck, using the strangest looking microphone I’d even seen, I recut it with better audio.

Along the curb, camera after camera after camera set up. All the local New York stations were there, as was GMA (ABC, but separate from us) and Today.

As shot, each reporter stood with the street behind him. Truth is, we were all shoulder-to-shoulder-to shoulder.

IMG_3083Let me take a second to apologize for anyone near me Thanksgiving morning. I project… OK, I am loud. It must have been tough for the reporters next to me, because I’m sure they heard me. Disconcerting, no doubt.

I cut a tag for World News Now, ABC’s overnight show, and then the live shots began.

It didn’t begin smoothly. The IFB system (IFB for interrupt feedback, describes the communications system that allows me to hear both the TV station in another city and its producer) was flawed. I was hearing a few syllables at a time and then silence. Something was there, but it wasn’t usable.

The first few live shots ended up being me fronting my package without interaction with the local anchors. I couldn’t speak with them, because I couldn’t hear them.

It wasn’t long before the IFB was squared away and we started ‘servicing the affiliates.&#185’

IMG_3090Here’s how it works. Chika speaks to the producer via cellphone. My IFB gets switched so I can hear their ‘air.’ We go over the names of the anchors and who I’ll be speaking with. Sometimes, if while waiting to go on I hear a weather forecaster mention local weather, I’d ask Chika to get his/her name.

Once on, I ad libbed a little about what was going on and then tossed to the package. On the way out I’d talk about the forecast of wind or let the anchors see the new Scooby Doo balloon resting across the street.

We did live hit after live hit after live hit. Sixteen separate shots over the morning. It was great!

I suppose you might say I’m a live TV slut. It’s a rush – a seat of the pants experience each and every time. I have called it crack for middle aged white guys.

IMG_3030After it was all done, the folks at ABC NewsOne thanked me. I appreciate that. But, the truth is, maybe they were doing me the favor. It’s a job I enjoy doing and they gave me the opportunity to do it from a great location, on a fun story, on stations all across the country.

The icing on the cake was going there with Steffie. I introduced her early on as my daughter. As the morning wore on, and other people came and went, she was just accepted as part of our crew. It’s nice to see her as a grownup and to see other people see her that way.

Liveshot rundown:

-- 0430 World News This Morning

-- 0515 WFTV - Orlando

-- 0545 WJLA - Washington

-- 0550 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0615 WFTV - Orlando

-- 0620 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0640 WCPO - Cincinnati

-- 0645 WJLA - Washington

-- 0650 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0705 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0720 WLS - Chicago

-- 0740 WTNH - New Haven

-- 0800 KABC - Los Angeles

-- 0820 KXTV - Sacramento

-- 0840 KNXV - Phoenix

-- 0900 KABC - Los Angeles

&#185 – When I ran into Al Roker and told him I was there ‘servicing the affiliates’, we both smiled. It does have that stud horse implication.

The Subway Threat

Yesterday in New York all hell broke loose. Word came there was credible information suggesting a possible attack on the New York City Subway system. Mayor Bloomberg and other city officials gathered for a news conference spelling out as much as they wanted to spell.

Later word from the federal government played down the threat… or not. Who knows? We’re only being told what we’re being told and my guess is, that’s far from everything.

The problem isn’t that someone wants to create terror in the subway system, the problem is that’s one of a zillion targets in New York.

For no more than a threat, it is possible for a terrorist to create enough uncertainty to cause New York City and the United States, a significant amount of money. Cops get paid for those extra hours. Tourists stay home when they’re scared.

I’m not a security expert, and I won’t begin to say what should and shouldn’t be protected, or how. Still, isn’t everything in New York a target? Along with the subways there’s the George Washington Bridge, the Holland and Lincoln Tunnels, Statue of Liberty plus reservoirs, gas storage facilities and… well, you get the idea.

When it comes to targets, New York City has no shortage.

Is it even possible to keep a city safe? Does it make sense to concentrate resources in one spot, leaving the others vulnerable?

The September 11, 2001 attacks were accomplished in a way that wouldn’t be possible today. In fact, after the first three planes, it wasn’t even possible on 9/11!

That being said, we have built up a huge, clumsy, cumbersome infrastructure at hundreds of airports as if airplane hijackings were the only viable way to get at us. I wish I felt more secure because of it. I don’t.

I’d like to end this post with some uplifting ending, but I’ve got none. I just don’t think it’s possible to stop everything, all the time. That’s a problem if we have enemies willing to do everything all the time.

The Rest of Our Philadelphia Trip

One of the prime reasons for going to Philadelphia was to go the see a Phillies game at Citizens Bank Park.

Before we go on, let me say how displeased I am with naming rights to stadiums and arenas. It’s a shame there’s no longer a Veteran’s Stadium in Philadelphia or Oakdale Theater near me in Wallingford, CT. Maybe there is a benefit to me by having Citizens Bank or Chevy (in the case of the Oakdale Theater) kick in some cash… though I don’t see it.

I am tilting at windmills. It’s never going back.

My friend Peter picked us up at the hotel and it didn’t take long to drive to South Philly and the stadium. Citizens Bank Park, Lincoln Financial Field and the Core State Arena (it’s hurting me to write this) are all located on the same tract of land that held the Vet, Franklin Field and the Spectrum (still there, but now with a corporate name preceding the word Spectrum).

I paid the $10 to park and we found a space fairly close to the entrance. Helaine had bought four tickets from a broker – though they were only marked up $4. We walked into the stadium.

Since this was my birthday trip, Helaine had arranged for my name and age to be flashed on the scoreboard with the other 11 year olds. We went and signed in. There was a charge, but I got a very nice Phillies hat.

The ballpark itself is a very nice place. Whereas the Vet was all concrete and steel with no thought of aesthetics, there’s lots of exposed brick and other warm touches now. And, Vet Stadium’s turf – possibly the worst playing surface in all of professional sports, has been replaced by beautiful real grass.

Beyond the outfield is a huge food court – Ashburn’s Alley. That’s where we headed first.

Steffie wanted to have a genuine Philly Cheesesteak, and Geno’s of South Philadelphia fame is represented. This is not ‘old school’ baseball food. It wasn’t soggy. It was hot. It was delicious. We found a place to sit and ate our lunch.

The game was scheduled for 3:15, so we headed down and took our seats. I was surprised that there had been no hassle when I brought my camera and two lenses in. The Phillies web site said it would be OK, but I had a sneaking suspicion there would be scrutiny over any camera with a removable lens.

These were probably the best baseball seats I’d ever had. We were behind the Phillies dugout, in the sun, 25 rows from the field. We were in foul ball territory. We were very close to the action.

The Phils were playing the San Diego Padres… and the Phils had gotten hot! The night before, Chase Utley ended the game with a walk off homer. Is there a more macho act?

For us, the game began slowly. It seemed like Robinson Tejeda, the Phillie starter wasn’t in control. I say ‘seemed’, because when you see the box score, you see a pitcher totally dominating the opposition. It’s funny how those two elements don’t always match up.

I took a lot of pictures at the game. Some might say I took too many pictures. Here’s my favorite, Bobby Abreu ducking out of the way of a Pedro Astascio fastball. Judging by the catcher’s glove, this pitch was traveling where it was aimed.

We stayed until the very last out, anticipated the worst when Real Cormier was called in, but getting a one inning gem instead. Billy Wagner picked up the save.

After a short stop back at the hotel, the four of us (Peter included) went out searching for dinner and the sights. We hit South Street first, but realizing that wasn’t the right spot for dinner, headed to Market Street and the Penn’s Landing area.

Again, we found Italian food. Again, it was very good. But we were very tired.

Our walk back to the hotel was uneventful, but left me uneasy. There were too many places which seemed sinister.

Tonight, I sent an email message to Mayor Street. It’s attached to the link at the bottom of this entry. Whether this kind of message makes any difference or not is beyond me, but I am always willing to write and make my opinions felt.

We finished up our stay Sunday with brunch on the Moshulu.

Since the launching of the Moshulu (pronounced Mo-shoe’-loo) in 1904, she has had a long and exciting career on the seas working the ports of Europe, South America, Australia, America and Africa. She was confiscated by the Americans in one war and by the Germans in the next. She has traveled around Cape Horn 54 times. She has hauled coal and coke, copper ore and nitrate, lumber and grain. In lesser days, she has served as a floating warehouse. In grander days, she won the last great grain race in 1939. Today, the Moshulu is the largest four-masted sailing ship in the world still afloat.

I once heard someone say you should never go out to dinner at a revolving restaurant. I think the same applies to converted sailing ships. The food was OK – nothing special. The ship was OK too… but just OK.

The interior of the ship was larger than I expected. I know that because of the schlep from our table to the buffet!

By 1:30 we were heading home. We headed north on I-95, over the Delaware via the Betsy Ross Bridge (A white elephant when it was built, I hope it’s more useful now), Route 90 to Route 73 to I-295 and then the New Jersey Turnpike.

We waited as long as we could before getting off I-295 and onto the Turnpike. It made no difference. We were stuck in stop-and-go traffic for the better part of an hour before things opened up. The rest of the trip was uneventful.

Oh – there was that sign on the George Washington Bridge that I captured. I’m hoping it’s legal to take photos before you get to the sign, as I did.

So, what have we learned? We were surprised and pleased that Steffie enjoyed the game. Yes, she got a shirt and excellent junk food… but she bought another shirt with her own money and seemed to be interested in the game.

We also enjoyed visiting Philadelphia, the place where we met 25 years ago, as tourists. There are rough edges that need to be smoothed for Philadelphia to become a better tourist destination, but so much is in place right now.

Continue reading “The Rest of Our Philadelphia Trip”

Destination Revealed

I woke up today waiting to go on my mystery birthday trip. Helaine held the secret.

We headed south down I-91 to I-95 and then turned toward New York City. I asked if we were taking the Cross Bronx Expressway? We were. We headed onto the George Washington Bridge. We weren’t going to New York.

I turned to Helaine and asked, “Are we going to Philadelphia?” She said, “Yes.” So, here we are.

We’re in a very nice hotel on the Delaware River, across from Camden, NJ. Camden looks very nice from this distance.

There’s a lot to tell, but I am totally bushed. There will be lots of photos. That much is already established. And, tomorrow we’re seeing the Phillies play San Diego.

How cool is that?

The Collapse Along The Henry Hudson Parkway

At the moment I’m watching New York’s Mayor Michael Bloomberg conduct a press conference about a collapse in Upper Manhattan this afternoon.

A retaining wall holding back a steep hill gave way, allowing the hill to tumble onto the Henry Hudson Parkway and its access road. Debris was piled up at least 25 feet deep and you could see partially buried cars at the edge of the slide area. This all took place in the shadow of the George Washington Bridge.

I have driven by this particular spot dozens, maybe hundreds of times, over the years. It is a physically impressive part of Manhattan, because of the steep rise of the land adjacent to the Hudson River.

A little farther south of this site are buildings, seemingly perched on nothing but spindly columns. Their front entrances are at street level. The backs of the buildings are way above the ground. Underneath, the ground plunges away from the basement.

At the moment, it seems no one was injured. That’s pretty amazing considering the traffic this road handles (there’s actually significantly more traffic just south of the collapse where traffic can exit from the George Washington Bridge or Cross Bronx Expressway – I-95).

It’s possible the hill gave way slowly, or possibly in a few disjointed slides lead to the major crash at the end. It couldn’t be blind luck that no one was underneath.

From the photos I’ve seen, there are construction ‘canopies’ where the slide took place. Undoubtedly there was work going on – maybe trying to prevent what ended up happening.

In a situation like this, the most obvious culprit will be water. Unfortunately, there’s water seeping all over Manhattan. The water mains, some well over 100 years old, leak like crazy underneath the streets. No one really knows how much, but it’s substantial.

I heard the mayor say there might have been seepage from a park on the top of the hill. More will come out with time.

As a frequent driver in New York City I have seen other signs of water damage and seepage that have worried me in the past. Portions of the brickwork along the side of the Cross Bronx Expressway have eroded away. The mortar is still there, but much of the brick is gone.

Some underpasses show the same or similar problems. There looks to be water flowing and carrying away parts of the facade.

You always hope this damage is superficial, that New York City has a handle on it. Maybe not. Hopefully, this is a wake up call that the water has to be put under control and damage repaired.

One mile south, this same slide would have been a huge catastrophe. The potential would have been there for casualties in the hundreds, or more. Tonight it’s just a head scratcher.

Back From New Jersey

Sunday was beautiful. The sun was out. The wind was down. The temperature was up.

The highlight of the afternoon was a walk up the boardwalk to Atlantic City. Once we got to the casino end of town, the boards became very crowded with an unsavory mix of everyone you’d meet at the DMV or an arraignment.

Actually, walking the wooden boards and even the metallic ones they have for part of the distance in Ventnor City, is very comfortable and relaxing. I often wonder about my sedentary life and its effect of my health. It’s reassuring to take a very long walk with no noticable physical consequences.

We left the shore and drove back to Cherry Hill. I was undecided when to leave, so I went online and checked the live cameras from the New Jersey Turnpike. Everything looked fine. I took off.

It is only now that I realize all the cameras are north of the biggest potential tie-up! The trip that took about three hours Friday night, took four and a half hours tonight.

To add insult to injury, a sensor light came on in Steffie’s car. It’s a picture of a cutaway tire with an exclamation point in it. This is supposed to signify bad air pressure in a tire, though I never would have guessed without the manual. I pulled the car to the side of the road to look.

I’m so petrified of being hit by oncoming traffic (even at the walking pace it had tonight) that I pulled past the shoulder and onto the grass. The car was so far into the grass I could only check the tires on the driver’s side.

I got back in and drove to the next service area, about 5 miles up the road. There, a mechanic pulled out his trusty gage and checked the pressure on all four tires. They were each about 10 pounds high! He adjusted them to the indicated 29 psi, but the light stayed on.

Great, another car that needs service. I’m thrilled.

There was one good part of the trip. I was able to listen to the Phillies beat the Braves, pulling off a come from behind victory in the 10th.

I do have one question I’m left with after the trip. As you get on the George Washington Bridge, on the roadside, there is a sign admonishing drivers (and passengers too, I suppose) that picture taking is not permitted on the bridge.

What, exactly, will I find that hasn’t already been posted on the web? Google has hundreds of photos of the GWB already indexed. Is this another example of good intentions beng carried to an extreme, and with no real positive result from the action? Probably.

Cherry Hill and Back

We had to make a rush trip to Cherry Hill, NJ earlier today. Google’s new maps program says the round trip was about 354 miles. That seems right. It’s about the limit for driving and getting anything accomplished before heading home.

Luckily for us traffic wasn’t too bad. We missed morning rush going into New York City and afternoon drive coming home. The only real snag on the trip was here in Connecticut, around 6:30 PM, traveling through Fairfield County.

I have no idea why went went slowly… but it did. It was worse than anything we saw on the Cross Bronx Expressway, if you can believe that.

I would guess a large park of our traffic free passage had to do with the advent of E-ZPass. Having this RFID tag in your car eliminates making the trip unnoticed, but it sure does speed things along.

The toll booths near Meadowlands Stadium were always a choke point. With E-ZPass we breezed through at highway speed. Same thing for the George Washington Bridge.

My only concern was a cryptic message at NJ Turnpike exit 4, when we saw a sign that told us to go – though our tag hadn’t been read. Honest officer, it was on the windshield.

It will be a surprise to find out what the toll actually is. I have no idea. It wasn’t posted anywhere.

This is a trip we used to make all the time while Helaine’s parents were alive.

I remember stopping on the Jersey Turnpike, driving our Mazda 929. When Steffie was an infant, the 929’s trunk made the perfect open air changing table.

The rest areas are still named after famous New Jersey residents like Joyce Kilmer, Vince Lombardi, Grover Cleveland and Thomas A. Edison.

Is Grover Cleveland’s family proud to know that this former president’s most conspicuous achievement in the 21st century is having people mention his name when they need to make a pit stop&#185? It would probably be defensible if he were still on the $1000 bill.

Speaking of the rest areas, it looks like they’ve been rebuilt, adding additional outward ugliness to what were ugly buildings to begin with. There are flowers near the sink (and loud music) in the mens room. The restaurant section is a medley of your favorite fast food joints in a food court arrangement.

New Jersey continues to lead the nation in “Full Service” gas stations. From a National Review commentary:

It is illegal to self-pump in New Jersey. You must have a gas-station professional pump your gas and ring up your purchase. This might have made some sense in 1949 when the law was passed and when most of the population still smoked and stupidity could conceivably kill at the gas station. But times have changed and pumping gas is a safe activity that almost everyone but the handicapped can perform with the greatest of ease. Pay-at-the-pump technology is standard at gas stations coast to coast. Motorists fly through stations with the breathtaking efficiency only Americans can take for granted. That is, except in New Jersey and Oregon

Greetings from Atlantic City

The trip down wasn’t that bad. Helaine and Steffie attempted to sleep, but it was nearly futile. A car is not a bed in so many ways.

We left the house around 12:30 AM, stopped quickly at Dunkin’ Donuts and headed out. As we approached I-287 Helaine asked if I was going to take the Tappan Zee? I wasn’t sure – so I did.

It always seems longer to go over the Hudson River with the Tappan Zee, but there were rumors of construction on the George Washington Bridge and a problem with one of the smaller bridges connecting Staten Island to New Jersey which was backing up onto the New Jersey Turnpike.

Real True Honest to Goodness Fact: The Garden State Parkway’s northern terminus is actually in New York. I can’t explain it, but it’s true.

As we headed south on the Garden State Parkway, I was glad to have E-ZPass. The New Jersey Turnpike has a toll booth when you enter and exit the highway. On the Garden State, there’s a toll booth every 20-30 feet! OK – it only seems that way.

The first toll plaza had something I had never seen before. There were a few lanes segregated to the side where EZPass drivers could go through the toll area at full speed. Wow.

We headed south on the Parkway, through Newark and the urban areas of the north and then down, along the shore. As we hit mile marker 72 something strange started appearing by the side of the road – deer. I’m not talking about a deer or two. There were dozens and dozens of deer, all on the right shoulder. Most had their heads down, grazing on the shoulder of the road.

As I buzzed by at 75 mph (slow for me, but I didn’t want to get a ticket in New Jersey where the speed limit is a reasonable 65 mph) I realized that any of them could dash into the road for no apparent reason. I turned to Helaine and told her, should a deer dash into the road, he was lunch meat. I would not swerve at that speed while driving an SUV.

The more deer I saw, the more scared I became. It was eerie with their eyes glowing from the headlights like a road reflector.

We got to my friend Peter’s house at 4:00 AM. He lives in a nice apartment building (it’s condos… but it’s apartments) in Ventnor City. Peter and Elisa have spent the last year or so re-doing their place, and it’s really nice. He said there’s only one or two original walls left!

They have a nice view to the south, looking toward Cape May. They are on the ‘ocean block’ with the boardwalk and beach at the edge of their building.

We were all asleep sometime before 5:00 AM

My next post is from the Borgata.

Unusual Evening

I am behind on my schoolwork. Well, actually I’m ahead, but with plans for the weekend and little time to catch up, I’m behind.

Have I come close to explaining what I mean?

I took a 4th quarterly homework test in my Applied Climatology class this evening. It wasn’t too bad, and I squeezed it in between our 8:40 PM newsbrief and the 10:00 PM news.

I still have the corresponding test on my Radar Meteorology course. It will be significantly more difficult and end up eating into the weekend… when we have plans.

As soon as I get home from work, wash my makeup off (that’s still strange to say), and change into jeans, we’ll be heading out to the Jersey Shore. When Steffie was a baby, this was the type of trip we made all the time.

You would think traffic would be light at this time of night, but the Connecticut

Turnpike, New England Thruway, and Cross Bronx Expressway are in a constant state of disrepair. There are some areas that seem to have been work zones since I was a little boy.

So we’ll be taking the Merritt Parkway (lower speed limit, chance of running into a deer) and listening for traffic on the George Washington Bridge that would force us onto I-287 (I can’t spell Tappan Zee Bridge).

Since our hotel room won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be spending a few hours with some friends – though how friendly can you be when you get there at 4:00 AM!

It’s been a long time since we were in Atlantic City. This will be Steffie’s first trip. We’re hoping to walk the boards in front of the casinos with her. It’s a very sleazy, honky tonk type atmosphere, but thoroughly enjoyable. Most of the boardwalk strollers have the physical beauty of a person in front of you in line at the DMV… or the clerk behind the counter.

We’re also hoping to see my friends Barry and Neal and their respective spouses. It’s been a really long time since I saw them.

So, all in all, rushing my schoolwork and driving through the night should be worth it. I’m not sure I believe that, but putting it in type might convince me.

I Wish I Had Known Jerry Nachman

Jerry Nachman died overnight last night at his home in Hoboken, NJ. If the name isn’t familiar, you might remember seeing him on MSNBC. Nachman was a large man physically and a giant in the business. He was 57, but could have passed for older.

I didn’t know Jerry Nachman. – only met him briefly one night here at the TV station. I had some minimal contact with him while he was editor of The New York Post.

It was a major holiday – probably Easter – at least 10 years ago. Helaine, Steffie and I had driven to Philadelphia to visit Helaine’s parents. On the way back, we waited an eternity to cross the George Washington Bridge. As we approached the toll plaza, I saw some of the booths (on this incredibly busy travel night) weren’t open. I asked, and the toll booth operator offered up, not enough people had been scheduled. The seemed very uncaring on the part of the Port Authority, who runs the bridge.

This was costing people untold hours, and costing businesses money. It wasn’t a story for my station, but it did seem like something for the Post. I wrote Jerry – and he responded. It felt like he was listening, interested and involved… and all because he took 10 seconds and put pen to paper.

I know of Jerry Nachman because of his reputation. He was a radio newsman, TV newsman and manager, newspaper editor, writer… you get the idea. If you look at all of his jobs, you get the feeling that people met him, realized he was really smart, and knew he could do whatever he set out to do.

There is a story that I’ve heard more than a few times. He was news director at WNBC-TV. There was a break in a big story, but no reporter to cover it. Jerry was in an off-the-air position – a management position. But, he told the crew to stop by his apartment on the way, pick him up, and he would report. It’s tough not to respect that.

Nachman seemed like the kind of guy you’d want to work for. Aggressive in his approach to the business, as if it were sport to him. Smart enough not be threatened. Skilled enough to command respect because he knew how to do his job… and your job too.

He was not a coiffed pretty boy with a ‘ripped’ body. In fact, his face had taken on the shape of a canned ham – not uncommon when you’re physically immense. He was all skill and little glitter. He died too soon.