Road Game: Central New York
Road Game: Central New York
Pepi's Pizza, Wing Night at the American Legion, Utica Club, Soft Serve, Pineapple Cream Pie...
Why Don’t We Steal Away
I love living in Brooklyn, but recently the pre-summer vibes of Big City living have been chipping away at me. Especially as the nonstop cacophony of traffic and all the horns, the honking, grinding tractor trailers, shouting motorists, and piercing sirens in the notoriously busy intersection near the BQE that I look down upon from my writing desk has had me on borderline Howard Beale in Network breakdown mode.
So last Monday, knowing I was staring down the anxiety-inducing madness of this coming week, I booked an Amtrak ticket home for a few days to visit my sister and her family in Sherrill in Central New York. I had a lot of work to do, but I hadn’t been home in almost two years and wanted to see everyone, but also longed for a bit of fresh air and to see the stars at night. And for three days my chaotic soundtrack of urban noise pollution was replaced with the refrain of Finches and the trilling of tree frogs at dusk.
Wednesday
Last Wednesday I took the Amtrak 63 Maple Leaf to Utica from the Moynihan Train Hall. The last-minute gate announcement cattle call to the designated track always stresses me out, but I made it through and secured a window seat on the left-hand side to take in the north-bound views of the Hudson River. I leaned my head against the window and nodded off for a bit to the steady rhythm of the train.
Though it’s always like a ghost town, the Italianate style Union Station in Utica, New York, is a grand affair with its 47-foot-high ceiling, marble columns, and long, curving wooden benches. It’s also one of just a handful of train stations with a working barber shop. My nephew Jack (now almost 23!) picked me up at the station and served as my makeshift Uber driver for most of my stay. When I’m back home I love a good country drive. I’m like an old farm dog. Jingle the keys and I’m hopping up onto the back seat with my head sticking out the window.
We ran a few errands on the way home then had a nice visit with my sister Victoria, her husband Bob, and the official welcoming committee of their Bichon Frisé Bella (looking spiffy in her purple kerchief) and Bear, their 21-pound Tuxedo/Maine Coon cat, who I particularly bonded with this trip. And I’m always thrilled to find the refrigerator in the garage of their home stocked up with endless cans of soda, seltzer, and beer and an expansive kitchen pantry that would rival Ina Garten’s.