“Where are we right now?” asked a fellow guest at a wedding I attended this past weekend in Central Anywhere (state name omitted to protect the innocent.)
“I think we’re in ::name of town that served as the locale for the reception::”
“Oh. Where the hell is that?” he asked, searching his iPhone for the nearest major highway, and directions on how to get to his next destination.
“Hah, sorry. I’m from Jersey, I have no idea.”
::Mocking disgusted face:: “Oh, how does it feel being from the armpit of America?”
Rewind…my boyfriend and I in the car driving to the wedding. This nearly two-hour drive took us as far out of recognizable civilization I had ever been. There were literally “towns” that consisted of two houses and a gas station across the road. There were no sidestreets. No schools. No grocery stores. A few restaurants and an old, dilapidated hotel, yes. But these seemed to be the only gathering places for tens of miles. The state of some of the homes, the utter lack of human presence and, admittedly, the dreary overcast day was making for an underwhelming drive.
Mind you, I mean no disrespect to small-town America. And I’m aware that people choose to lead simpler lives in the country, away from the hubub of cities and mind-numbing traffic. Raised by parents who’d rather spend a week at a campsite than in the Carribean, I’ve always had an appreciation for an abundance of trees over concrete. I’ve never judged a place just by the name. And I certainly have never disparaged a place that someone else calls home.
This table mate (along with a myriad of other Jersey critics) had only ever seen NJ from the view of the turnpike. He admitted to me that he, himself, has no strong opinion against us, per se: “It’s just cool to hate New Jersey.”
And the thing is, he’s right. The default reaction to our state is a scrunched up face and a sympathetic dig. I’ll never understand it, but here I’ll add everything I should have said when he asked me how I managed these 27 years coming from such a terrible place…
I’m immensely greatful for my upbringing near the ocean. A house in the “sticks” of Central Jersey. Living an hour from New York City and an hour from Philadelphia. And, since I was baby, camping at the Delaware Water Gap, fishing and swimming in the small, untouched and unspoiled, glenns nestled deep into the woods. On any given day I could see a movie, shop at one of several malls, eat at one of many diners, go bowling, play mini golf or hop a train to one of two major cities. When I was in my early twenties, and ready for more elaborate adventures, it was an hour’s drive to an airport to anywhere. 9.5 hours from walking out my front door, I touched down in Rome, Italy. The next day I was on a boat headed to Greece. And even while traveling abroad, my affection for the Garden State never wavered. I may not stay here forever, but I will maintain my whole life…that New Jersey is a glorious place to call home. So how do I feel about living in America’s armpit? I feel pretty good about it. What’s great about where you’re from?
