Bus rules for commuters...

There are many more items in the "pros" column then there are in the "cons" column when making the list of why Hoboken is a great place to live. In a matter of minutes I can be in Times Square using the 126 bus. I have a path stop that takes us to my Mother-in-law's apartment on Christopher Street in minutes and goes all the way to MSG. The teachers and workers at the Brandt school have been nothing but amazing to my 2 little guys. Ever heard of Elysian Fields? The Chairman of the Board? That's right, both are Hoboken. There is always something to do or somewhere to go.

Oh there are cons too. I'm not going to get into the endless amount of nonsense that drives me crazy about Hoboken. I will leave that laundry list of corruption and community clown college for another day. What I can't stand are folks that squeeze themselves into the smallest spot in the back of the bus during my morning commute. I used to feel sorry for the folks that live uptown and have to stand on the way to Port Authority after watching countless packed buses pass them by. I don't anymore. Witnessing an argument between a couple of Hoboken's finest young professional elitists makes me despise them all. I was one of 4 people sitting in the back of the crowded bus this morning when Mr. Metro-sexual squeezed himself between me and Chris Martin's twin. There was not enough room and of course these two dopes next to me start arguing. Not a real man's argument where it would get physical it was more of a cat fight of verbal diarrhea with - I live in the "x" building and my bank accounts are bigger than yours, and I have "x" cars and assets.....blah, blah, blah... I start hoping that the bus driver will take off his disguise and Boogaloo Shrimp would emerge and settle the strife like it was 1980.


Being the joyous person that I am and never one to shy away from confrontation I interjected a question to these two Bill Gates wannabees, "If you have so much money and everything the world has to offer, why are you on this bus? Go take the ferry or call a car service but please shut the fuck up". It is one of the few joys I get in life is dropping a verbal bomb on someone and watching them calculate a response. A few of us in this world are blessed with the gift of being able to see this thought process. The facial muscles twitch and contort while the brain rapidly goes over the checklist of how this altercation is going to turn out. Is this guy serious? Will he hurt me? Do I need this to escalate? It is better than watching any Oscar winning movie. It reminds me of those which way books I read when I was a kid. If you want to stand up and make room and act like nothing happened for the next few minutes while the bus goes through the Lincoln tunnel please turn to page 142. If you told the large, unstable man to bring it then please turn to page 244. It was at this moment when the older woman sitting on the other end of the back seat declared there wasn't any room and Mr. Metro- sexual stood up and gave out a large huff.


The back of the bus should not be squeezed into. If you are reading this and you are a person that would squeeze yourself onto the crowded back seat of a commuter bus then you need to see a Doctor. Just stand the 10 minutes it takes to get to NYC....you never know what you are squeezing yourself into.


Until next time....

Here we go...

Welcome to the world according to me. This is my first attempt at making a blog. I'm not sure why I am a tad nervous or hesitant about doing this but I am. Sitting here and trying to get this started is making me feel like my first day in junior high when some 8th grade girl sprayed me in the face with her hair spray while we were in the cafeteria waiting for our bus. Yeah that's right she was on my bus. There I was, an insecure, husky 12 year old being sprayed in the face with aqua net by an extra from Square Pegs. Everyone laughed AND I had to get on the bus with them. Great day in life of prepubescent me. It surprises me that I can't for the life of me remember her name. At the time it was mortifying and made me beg my folks to move and now I can't remember her. I guess that goes with age. Although I still have a brain of useless 80's and 90's facts my ability to remember names is not as sharp as it was pre kids.

I grew up on the Jersey Shore and will occasionally recall past people (for all those I have forgotten, some are still in the data bank), places and events as they pop to the fore front of my brain. Today I live in Hoboken, NJ and work in Manhattan. I recently visited my parents and made a wrong turn trying to find the house. How is that possible? Seriously, I grew up in the town and spent over 20 years living down there. How do I not remember the street? Mess. I think the years my wife and I lived in Brooklyn erased some of the Point Pleasant memories. I am a firm believer that if you want to get tough you go into the military or you do time in Bensonhurst. I'll save the story of the street brawl on my 29th birthday for a future blog. Hoboken is great but the yuppies occasionally make me long for the grittiness and the edge of Brooklyn. Ah if it weren't for the kids...

I'm not going to get too carried away with my first post. I hope you come back and read my future rants and recollections. See you all next time...