Summer in the City

I’ve moved. For the last 41 years I lived in Montclair, New Jersey. Raised my kids, commuted to work, fully immersed myself in community and synagogue life. I loved it, loved walking around town, the local shops, chatting with neighbors. A burger and a beer at Tierney’s, coffee at Bluestone, the Watchung Booksellers. I even kind of loved the crazy board of education and town council, on both of which I served, meetings that went on long into the night. I thought I would never leave. But I left.

It's all about time, I suppose. A desire to try things while I still might have time. I left Montclair and got an apartment in Manhattan. I will be able to walk the neighborhoods of the city, go to many museums, theaters, concerts, readings, etc., etc. I won’t have to match my schedule to the bus or train. I can change my life.

The idea of moving came to me slowly. A day-to-day exploration of “what ifs.” I seem to make most decisions that way. I think about something for a long time, in this case several years, then I act. But to others those actions sometimes appears spontaneous or impulsive. I’m just not much of a sharer in a lot of ways. My children no longer live in Montclair (and love the idea of Grandma being in the city). Many of my closest friends live in NY. It felt right.

NYC is like Montclair writ large. That might be the first time anyone put it that way, but I’ve been following the mayoral election as a mostly outsider, and the underlying issues of race/religions/ethnicity/gender and, mostly, control of power remain sadly similar. A primary winner not in the in-crowd. Refreshing, to me at least. Meantime, policy wonk that I am at heart, it saddens me that the earnest conversations are not around plans for garbage pickup, recycling, composting, public transportation, clean and safe streets, excellent schools from pre-school on, except for a fear that free bus passes might somehow, difficult to say how exactly, bankrupt the city. I am going to love New York, much like I loved Montclair.

Meantime, I’m still at the Jersey shore, with no plans not to spend my summer and weekends and other opportunities here. It’s my happy place. Each little town has its own distinct personality. Walking along the beach in the fall and winter is one of the most relaxing and meditative things I do. A dozen years ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to get a place in Ocean Grove. W.S. Merwin wrote a wonderful poem about the town. https://merwinconservancy.org/poems/one-summer-by-w-s-merwin/ My desk overlooks Asbury Park, and summer is in full swing. Some things in my life change. Some remain the same.

Las week, as the bombs were dropping, I was on the phone with a friend and talking about how this could be “it.” And by “it,” I do mean “it,” and that I glad we had a chance to say, “good-bye.” We never know, and the current administration has a real talent for bringing that home. But we really do never know. So, I moved. I won’t have the regret of not having tried

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