On The Road Again

On The Road Again

Recently we had some work done in my backyard.  The electrician commented that you would hardly even know you were on Long Island.  My house itself sits upon a quiet street in Suffolk.  The dwellings range in size and stature.  My residence is among three that were constructed around similar times.  From the front it would seem like just another home among the many.  The backyard is where you will find yourself transported.  I grew up in a noisy postage stamp property neighborhood.  As I got older it only grew worse.  This is the reason why I transformed my home into a secluded sanctuary.

My first apartment out of college was in Lynbrook.  I was right off of Broadway.  Not the one of “Give My Regards” fame.  However this one was busy enough that it also went by a Madonnaesque one-word mantra.   It would seem that not all roads lead south, only this one did.  And everyone heading in that direction used it for their morning commute.

My second apartment would offer poorer privacy.  It was in Valley Stream, a few feet short of Sunrise Highway.  Since there is no equivalent to the LIE on the south shore, the 18-wheelers roll through around 5am.  And No, sir, it's NOT very unusual.  The sound was bad enough.  The rumble itself shook me awake each morning as if I were Cousin Vinny.

A few years later I purchased a co-op in Roslyn.  Moving there I thought I would be granted a reprieve since it was on a smaller road.  No such luck.  A few of the open units were deeper in the development, but the one that met my needs resided on this road.  But it was not Sunrise Highway, so how bad could it be.  I would find out that this was a major cut through in Roslyn, sitting between the LIE and the Viaduct.  Even the #23 bus route went right below my window.  For good measure the Roslyn Volunteer Fire Department was only a few doors down.  While that was not so bad, it was the fire alarm sitting the approximate height of my back window that was.  When it came time to sell my unit, I hoped that no fires broke out as I was showing the place.

My apartment also sat directly above a three way stop.  I use that term loosely since nobody ever did.  Apparently the two stop signs that were on the main road were only suggestions.  Many a time a driver ignoring them would have to screech his brakes to avoid hitting another motorist that was making a turn on or off the side road.  I had called the local precinct to inform them of this “accident waiting to happen”.  The co-op’s parking lot was centered in the development.  Being on the outskirts it was a bit of a distance.  I would park on that side road for convenience during the day, but return my car to rest in the lot at night.

It was late one December afternoon, a few days before Christmas.  I had just arrived at home with take-out in hand.  I parked on the side road since it was still light.  As I exited my car, I noticed a police officer sans vehicle standing on the corner.  I saw him viewing each motorist as they passed.  Finally!  They sent an officer to see what I was talking about.  I assumed that without his cop car to give him away, he was attempting to catch those who advanced uninterrupted through the intersection.  I approached him almost congratulatory, “I am glad they sent someone down here to ticket all the drivers that blow through these stops signs.”  He responded sternly, “I am here checking seatbelts.  I noticed you were not wearing yours.”  The look on his face told me this was not in jest.  I was taken aback at the fact he was here for something so minor.  I told him, “Well, you can give them a seatbelt ticket after the accident they will cause.”   He quipped, “Well, maybe I should just give you a ticket.”  Realizing the futility, I retired from this runaround.

After dinner I settled on the couch.  Day turned to night and a light snow began to fall.  Maybe we would have a White Christmas after all.  We were not expecting much but I thought I would move my car just in case.  The thought barely had time to settle in my brain when I heard it.  The usual screeching of brakes was replaced by the sound of a sliding skid.  If you are like me, when you hear that sound, you wait for the crash.  I did not have to wait long.

When out on the road there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The light on the street on the new-fallen snow

Gave the luster of mid-day to the two cars below,

And, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a 4 door sedan, hit my eight cylinder…

 

I jumped off the couch, as I knew my car was in harms way.  As I peered out the window I could see another car forming a perfect T into mine.  The gentleman exited his car to inspect the damage.  I threw open the window and yelled, “Don’t go anywhere, that’s my car…I’ll be right down.”  Hey…what’s this?  That SOB is getting in his vehicle and taking off.

He sprang to his car, put his gear in reverse,

And pulled back he did drive, my Mustang for the worse.

He could hear me exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

 

Wait til I catch you, you’ll regret this night.

 

 

Now even though it was winter I always spent my time indoors in sweat shorts.  If you have ever lived in a co-op, sometimes heat is not the issue…too much is.  I joked I “summered” in my apartment.  Well this night was no different.  There was no time for jackets or jeans.  I barely had time to throw on my sneakers.  I bolted out the door, and took off down the three flights of steps.  I rounded the building and out to the middle of the road.  Too far to see the license plate, I made it just in time to see his taillights turn left.  But it was not the end of the block, he mistakenly went into the parking lot of the nearby nursing home.  It was the only way in and out.  This was the break I was looking for.  I hopped in my car, fired her up and gunned the engine.  A car was coming down the street and must have realized what was happening…they actually stopped at the sign.  I turned right and tore off down the road…mumbling something about why don’t you give me a seatbelt ticket now cop’er.  I arrived at the entrance to see my crashing combatant trying to return out of the lot.  I did my best Starsky and Hutch to block his exit with my car.  Prevented from proceeding, he had the nerve to honk.  I guess he did not recognize his work.

It turned out he was a Domino’s deliver guy.  When I mentioned I should call the cops for leaving the scene, he said he only had 30 minutes…no time to wait.  He even had the guts to ask me if he could finish his delivery.  I told him, “Oh, you are finished right now.”

Those days are past and I enjoy the solace my sanctuary provides.  It is the escape I have always envisioned.  On some crisp nights I can hear the light murmur of the LIE off in the distance.  But that is no longer my street.

My road is the one less traveled.