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First, let me begin by stating that I’m not looking for trouble.
I have always been a fan of Sarah Vowell. I have spent many of
Saturdays and Sundays (depending on where I lived) listening to
This American Story, for the sole purpose of hearing her
voice and attitude (I particularly enjoyed her piece on the
“Battle Hymn of the Republic”. And as a reader, I hold the first
few essays in Take the Cannoli about her childhood in
Montana and college years, as examples of my favorite memoir
nonfiction. I also enjoyed the later stories that involved being
a journalist, too. Only love at The New New Jersey (I had
a great time “researching” the book as a possible gift for my
sister. Oh, to work in a bookstore again.) This blog is not
about making enemies, it is about dropping names (Sarah Vowell)
and talking about New Jersey. This story is about the influence,
by no means deliberately misleading by the author (Sarah Vowell),
that shaped a town (Hoboken), in the the mind of a bookseller in
Mentor, Ohio (the current author) in the empty vacuum of
impression that is devoid of time, space, or reality.
In an essay I enjoyed from the
previously mentioned Take the Cannoli, “These Little Town
Blues,” Vowell, a great fan of Frank Sinatra, visits his home
town of Hoboken, New Jersey. What is presented is a simple,but
sad, little town in the shadow of New York City across the
Hudson, where the towns people who cannot get out, cannot get
over the idea that Old Blue Eyes was once just like them.
(Author’s note: I would like to avoid being mistaken for a
serious journalist by admitting that I did not reread this
essay, which I read about two years ago. As it will hopefully be
explained, it is not necessary to this piece.) For years, this
was my impression of Hoboken. A town too small for the Big
Apple, but with a good view.
This essay was not alone. A
documentary on PBS about Alfred Kinsey painted a similar picture
of Hoboken (Kinsey was also a native a century ago.) I know,
times change. People gentrify, but these were the views I held
from the midwest.
The skinny, as everyone in New
Jersey knows (though several people I’ve talked to in New York
have been, “Hoboken, where’s that?”), is that Hoboken is a
cultural hub and peak of urban living in northern New Jersey
(Okay, one could argue that, I’m sure.)
But what I noticed when I
finally took to PATH over to Hoboken, is how renewed this
urban area is. I know there is always room for improvement, but
Hoboken seems to have what others are striving to become. Going
on a Sunday, I saw people filling the streets, shopping at local
businesses, and nice architecture. From the train station, one
could easily find forty places to dine within ten minutes by
foot. (I should confess that I ate at a pizza restaurant that
advertised the largest slice. It filled two paper plates, but
I’ve forgotten the name of the establishment. I’m not trying to
pretend to be a travel writer either.) It’s like being in
Manhattan (we’ll maybe not). Who wouldn’t want to live in/visit
Hoboken?
The point being, like Fell’s
Point in Baltimore and Mill Hill in Trenton, Hoboken is a nice
looking neighborhood, despite what I had imagined. And do read
Sarah Vowell’s new book. I believe she goes to Garfield’s tomb
at the Lakeside Cemetery in Cleveland--two great neighborhoods:
Murray Hill (Little Italy) and Coventry. |
