Here is Sam's quite humorous guest blog:
I have often wondered what it is to be “Jersey”. Originally from the Midwest, I’m still an outlander in the Garden State, for certain. I guess I can live with that, but to say I’m not Jersey after fifteen years, means that membership takes more than just living here, even on a full-time basis. Watching the Jersey Shore only qualifies one in part, as most of its viewers (and all but one of the actors) reside elsewhere.
Perhaps being Jersey can be earned. I did sell cigarettes to Kevin Smith one night in Red Bank. It was during my short stint as a convenience store clerk (a very Jersey thing). Then again, he moved to Hollywood Hills, so that might not count. Then there is the proximity factor; I’ve dated a number of Jersey Girls. Also, my ex-father in law almost had Bruce Springsteen arrested for flying a remote control airplane—but then changed his mind when he realized the trespasser was The Boss.
This matter is personal, because my current girlfriend (Jersey for life) single-handedly changed the word Jersey from a noun to a modifier, as in “don’t make me go Jersey on you.” That’s how her mentor introduced her at a graduation ceremony—held in New Hampshire.
I suppose most people would just let it go. Everyone comes from somewhere, be it Senegal or Mendham. I’m no exception. Yes I’m from the epicenter of the United States but I still know where to get Taylor ham or a gyro at three in the morning. Answer: a diner. Which diner has the best disco fries? Answer: all of them.
But I think I found something that earns my place, right next to Kirsten Dunst (from Point Pleasant, New Jersey). Tonight Bon Jovi (from Sayreville, New Jersey) opens the new Meadowlands Arena with its first rock concert. And I will be there.
And watching Jon still standing tall in his backyard and mine? That makes me Jersey. At least a little, at least for tonight.
I have often wondered what it is to be “Jersey”. Originally from the Midwest, I’m still an outlander in the Garden State, for certain. I guess I can live with that, but to say I’m not Jersey after fifteen years, means that membership takes more than just living here, even on a full-time basis. Watching the Jersey Shore only qualifies one in part, as most of its viewers (and all but one of the actors) reside elsewhere.
Perhaps being Jersey can be earned. I did sell cigarettes to Kevin Smith one night in Red Bank. It was during my short stint as a convenience store clerk (a very Jersey thing). Then again, he moved to Hollywood Hills, so that might not count. Then there is the proximity factor; I’ve dated a number of Jersey Girls. Also, my ex-father in law almost had Bruce Springsteen arrested for flying a remote control airplane—but then changed his mind when he realized the trespasser was The Boss.
This matter is personal, because my current girlfriend (Jersey for life) single-handedly changed the word Jersey from a noun to a modifier, as in “don’t make me go Jersey on you.” That’s how her mentor introduced her at a graduation ceremony—held in New Hampshire.
I suppose most people would just let it go. Everyone comes from somewhere, be it Senegal or Mendham. I’m no exception. Yes I’m from the epicenter of the United States but I still know where to get Taylor ham or a gyro at three in the morning. Answer: a diner. Which diner has the best disco fries? Answer: all of them.
But I think I found something that earns my place, right next to Kirsten Dunst (from Point Pleasant, New Jersey). Tonight Bon Jovi (from Sayreville, New Jersey) opens the new Meadowlands Arena with its first rock concert. And I will be there.
And watching Jon still standing tall in his backyard and mine? That makes me Jersey. At least a little, at least for tonight.
I loved this book and think you will too!
http://tinyurl.com/2c96axt
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