There's No Place Like Home

Despite the fact that we live in one of the biggest cities in the world, witness to crazy scenarios, commutes, and people, I often find myself most shocked when we leave our little metropolis and head to one of those distant lands called "suburbia."

Determined not to spend another weekend confined to a ten block area so as not to have to join our Queens brethren on the boulevard waiting for a bus, Paul and I decided to finally use the secondhand car we recently purchased (despite agonizing over giving up a parking spot) and take a day trip to lands far and wide. We headed to New Hope, Pennsylvania about an hour and a half away, as we had heard it was "cute."

Cute it was, though after two hours of walking around town, eating mediterranean food commenting "it's OK but not as good as Turkish Grill," and realizing New Hope really constituted the hope of many aging artists to lure well-off Manhattanites into purchasing overpriced art, antiques and stained glass, we decided to head back toward civilization.

Along the way to civilization we had to stumble through New Jersey where I nearly caused a traffic accident when I screamed out in glee at the sight of a Wegmans supermarket. A sight I haven't seen since I graduated college in upstate New York. I made Paul pull over and we proceeded to spend about as much time as we had in New Hope roaming around this "super-Wegs" that came replete with a toy train running overhead, free samples, and an attached beer and liquor store.

A cross between Whole Foods and Costco, but with cheaper prices and less "bulk" the store was a city dweller's dream. The natives, aka New Jersey soccer moms, navigated the aisles like I navigate the subway tunnels, whereas Paul and I walked around, mouths agape, unsteadily operating a shopping cart, like cold war Russians brought into a Walmart warehouse. One woman even remarked "Why is it so crowded here today, you would think they are giving away stuff for free."

Meanwhile I looked around at the 7 foot wide aisles devoid of pedestrian and cart traffic. I wanted to pick that lady up and drop her into the middle of the Queens Blvd Food Dynasty with a full size shopping cart with aises half as wide and people smushed twice as deep to really show her what "crowded" was. I felt like we had come from a poor country to the land of plenty. I

n an effort to locate a bottle of salad dressing I found myself separated from Paul and lost like a little girl on an afterschool special. After 15 minutes of aisle roaming I had to call him and said "help I'm lost in aisle 17 with a bottle of storebrand fat free thousand island dressing and 16 New Jersey soccer moms, grab the cart, pick me up and lets head back to the real world, where you walk to the store, buy just what you need, and don't have to deal with THESE people."

So while it is nice to get away now and then, everytime I leave I realize I should've just stayed home and learned the lessen the Wizard of Oz taught me years ago. There's no place like home, and no place like Queens!