Cruising in NYC

It always feels like a free-for-all driving in New York. Whether it's the Henry Hudson (9A), the Cross Bronx, the infamous BQE or the LIE, and forget about the Long Island parkways, it always feels like a mad dash for the goal line, a race to an unending finish or something from an improbable action film where the hero comes so close but never quite gets rear-ended or makes a wrong move and puts the nose of his car into a wall. That is until today, where I was driving just over on the New Jersey Pike, dreaming about the Sopranos theme song looking at the industry of Perth Amboy or whatever is over there west of the Hudson and out of nowhere, Wham... ok it wasn't a truck or a car that hit me. A rock the size of a golfball flipped up into the air from atop a small truck and smashed a small indentation into my windshield, breaking the glass and starting the dreaded spiderweb. My surprise, fear and eventual anger almost got the better of me, but I regained composure and leveled the car back in my lane and drove on. Everytime I have driven in NYC, I fear the worst and this time, although not the worst, it was certainly an inconvenience. Broken windshield in all, I lugged into my location and wiped it from my mind and dove into work.