I Have Never Been to Newark

Cruising along, through my birth state at 3:45AM.  Up early, not late, en route to Newark Airport.  I was warned to expect an hour’s drive out but I think I’ll there in less than thirty minutes.  We had some snow last night.  Looking down from this elevated highway, the steps of the buildings and the roofs of the cars and the banks of this estuary are all white in the evening’s light. 

I’m off to sample some west coast winter.   Will arrive some time today in Bend Oregon.  I’ve heard nothing but salutations for this city there beneath the mountains.  I’ve shown my girls pictures of the town and they all agreed that it looks remarkable.   There won’t be an all night winter jazz fest with twenty venues and a capstone performance by the Sun Ra Arkestra as I feasted on in NYC the past few days.  But then, I haven’t had that for a while anyway. 

Off in the distance is Newark.  Who is based in Newark?  What are Newark’s major industries?  What does Newark pride itself on?  Someone has decided to build a dozen or more tall buildings there, off in the distance.  I know of the riots after the man honored today’s assassination.  I know of the jazz luminaries that hail from there, like Wayne Shorter.   But I have never been to Newark.  I looked on line just now and learned a few things, including the fact that the city has the nation’s largest collection of cherry blossom trees.  That would be something to go see some spring day, for whenever it is you return to live in Manhattan. 

I learned the other day that I’ll need to be back in New York next month.  Immediately, I begin to fondly anticipate this next return. It sounds lovely now, cast off in the distance.  When I have to pack up and leave and fly and live out of a bag once again, far from home, I will invariably question why I considered it such a good idea.  This until I can finally cut loose from obligation and walk around Manhattan once again, listening to music, considering the city.