Emily and I Arrive in New York

We arrived in New York yesterday in the middle of heavy traffic after 10 ½ hours on the road. Emily drove like a mad woman, motivated by her upcoming high school reunion. She started the driving at 6:15 a.m. and never relinquished the wheel for the first 450 miles, through two gas stops and three pit stops. I navigated, superbly I might add. I said, “Head east on I-80.” She followed my directions perfectly because they were clear and concise and she grew up in New York and can make the journey blindfolded.

We started the alphabet game eight miles before we reached the Pennsylvania border. Later we played another, and I played two by myself. Our new rule: Typographical errors count as wild cards. We didn’t find one and had to settle for “eXit” four times.

Traffic ground to a near halt less than a mile from the George Washington Bridge. We were greeted by 110 degrees of heat, a condition made harsher by exhaust fumes from the truck that puffed and vibrated next to us as we crawled toward the tollbooth. It took us a half hour to get through. I played three more rounds of the alphabet game, this time allowing letters that appear anywhere in the word to count.

We were surprised to then see ourselves headed to the “RFK Bridge.” What happened to the Triboro Bridge, we wondered. The name made perfect sense because the bridge connects the three boroughs of Queens, Bronx, and Manhattan. The new name has no logic unless they rename the boroughs Rqueens, Fbronx, and Kmanhattan.

That brief stretch through the two tolls cost us $14.50. Assumedly they’ll use the money for new signs.