Podcasting since 2004; Conversations, conflicts, adventures and monologues from around the world.
I crossed 5th Av. as quickly as possible and headed towards the car that had just pulled over to pick me up. Out popped the great Tony Pierce, who just happened to be passing through NYC on the same day I was visiting the Trippist people. I glanced at the California plates and took note of the sirius satellite radio, and off we drove towards Union Square.
We walked the streets and caught up on what each of us has been up to. In his case, driving across the United States. I couldn’t remember, though I’m a loyal reader of the busblog, why he was making this trip. When asked, his response was simple: “Because I can.” He even tried to convince me to delay my return to Amsterdam and drive down to DC with him. Tempting, but I’m falling way too behind on my life in Holland to delay my return this coming week.
Manhattan is just as it always was. Which at some level amazes me; so many cities are heavily pursuing traffic limits, congestion charges, car-free neighborhoods and pedestrian centers. New York City still lets any clown drive his or her jalopy right into its heart. Somehow the streets don’t completely clog like Dick Cheney’s arteries… allowing for some traffic to flow in between very long pauses and holdups.
We passed by the Voice but didn’t go in. Went by Yaffa but didn’t stop to eat. Looked towards Washington Square but didn’t stop to sit. It was and has been my whirlwind visit, and as usual I’m not doing half the things I intended to do.
Yesterday afternoon, as part of our two- day exploration of south jersey, NoCoins, Leah and myself set off in search of a village called Whitesbog, where cranberries and blueberries were historically (and presently) grown.
For those who haven’t been taught much about this fair state where I was born, the South of New Jersey has a large area of Pine Barrens, where there are a plethora of state parks. The Whitesbog village is located in Lebanon State Forest, strangely renamed the Brendan T. Byrne state forest, but Im just going to keep calling it Lebanon because I think its a more beautiful name.
So I had a general idea where to drive to, and after an hour or so of riding in circles through narrow roads between the pine forests, we suddenly came upon the little sign for Whitesbog Village. From there, a very skinny and bumpy road, which passed several fields of what I assume were blueberries, eventually came to a clearing and a whole series of houses which looked very 1800’s. Even stranger was the fact that no one was around; each house was closed up and perfectly silent, as if everyone had fled the town and left it for accidental tourists like us to discover.
We managed to find a map on a rickety bulletin board, and decided to walk the village in search of strange buildings and eventually – blueberry fields. Apparently it is Maine that produces the most blueberries in north america, 25% of all blueberries to be exact. In Europe it is France and Austria that grow the most. New Jersey, meanwhile, comes in just behind Maine, along with a few other states, as a major producer of high-bush blueberries.
As lovely as it was, to walk around what seemed to be a ghost town and among the wild blueberry bushes, it was also extremely erie. NoCoins talked about how it was mostly Italian workers, who were hired from South Philly as seasonal workers, who lived in these little bungalows in the middle of nowhere. He talked about how they would be paid with credit and then use this credit to purchase food and goods from the company store, a pseudo slavery, in many ways.
I kept thinking of those Italian workers, as we snapped photo after photo. What happened to them. How terrible or wonderful was their time in this village? And what of their children and children’s children?
Seemed like alot of sacrafices were required, so that people could have their berries.
I see alot of highway. North, South, East, West. I am bicyclemark and I therefore hate to drive and I never drive, except when I come visit this state, where one cannot exist without a car.
Needless to say, I miss my bicycle and I hate driving.
I do, however, like the nooks and crannys of New Jersey. Tonight, when I finally have a chance to sit down and write, I will tell the tale of the cranberry fields and labor camp where I spent yesterday afternoon.
There will also be a citizen journalism vlog from Asbury Park with a celebrity guide. But it isn’t ready yet, so here’s a photo, and I’m happy to report, if you can read french, Cecilia in Malawi checks in.
Greetings from Southern New Jersey.. where Im hiding out for two days with my oldest of old friends nocoins and the leah. We’re exploring the jersey shore and tomorrow the cranberry something something bogs which apparently are the only ones in the US or the world or the solar system or this town. Internet is spotty, so Im parked outside the house borrow the neighbors wifi.. thanks retirement community!
One thought before I go, besides the beauty of this state, which I will save for tomorrow; Bill Clinton.
Lots of people kiss clinton’s ass. He was so great.. he was so cool.. bla bla bla the nation misses him. I understand why they say that when you compare him to the current torturer-n-chief. But as I listened to him today on meet the press, going on and on about killing Bin Laden.. and how he tried to kill and wanted to kill and kill kill kill. All I I could hear after a while was clinton saying kill kill kill. It reminded me about what I dont like about the man and how i think the nostalgia is un-deserving for such a conservative democrat who claims to be a champion of all things human rights and international law. I don’t like the nostalgia and i think its miss placed. Furthermore i find it pathetic that he’s appearing everywhere defending his record. If his record wasn’t so spotty on everything.. he wouldnt have to be doing this.
I digress, I just don’t like clinton and his post presidency coolness. Carter is still the coolest ex-president and a man who really knows how to roll up his sleaves and work to make a slightly better world.
Anyway.. i think its tea time out here in the jersey shore retirement community.
