Let me just clear something up, O.K., about my childhood friend David Wildstein. It is true that I met David in 1977, in high school. He’s a year older than me. David and I were not friends in high school. We were not even acquaintances in high school…. We didn't travel in the same circles in high school. You know, I was the class president and athlete. I don’t know what David was doing during that period of time…. So we went twenty-three years without seeing each other, and in the years we did see each other, we passed in the hallways. So I want to clear that up. It doesn’t make a difference, except that I think some of the stories that’ve been written implied, like, an emotional relationship and closeness between me and David that doesn’t exist. I know David and, you know, I knew that Bill Baroni wanted to hire David to come to the Port Authority, and I gave my permission for him to do it, but that was Bill’s hire. He asked for permission, I gave my permission for him to hire David. But let’s be clear about the relationship, O.K.?Apparently Christie has now proposed lengthening the school year and the school day.
JANUARY 11, 2014 | GOOD SHOW, BUT THIS BRIDGE GOES NOWHERE | POSTED BY HENDRIK HERTZBERG
Which makes sense because teens need a lot more exposure to the I'm-class-president-and-you're-not peer culture high schools have to offer.
Last fall, when the Christie administration closed the lanes, traffic was backed up all the way to Rye. It caused quite a stir. I remember, shortly after the excitement began, ping-ponging back and forth re: Andrew's oxytocin, which comes from a pharmacy in Rye and has to be kept refrigerated.
A: I was glad the pharmacy was delivering as opposed to me driving cross-county to pick it up, but then again B: that didn't solve the problem of a fantastically expensive hormone requiring refrigeration stuck in traffic for 4 hours, which led to C: idle musing about just how long the refrigerated silicon thingies they put inside the mailer stay cold….and as I made the circuit from A to B to C and back again the "backed up all the way to Rye" refrain continued to sound in my kitchen, sparking query D: what did backed-up all the way to Rye, which I figured meant all the North-South corridors here in Westchester County had to be a nightmare, mean for driving East-to-West?
East-to-West in Westchester County is a losing proposition under the best of circumstances; when it comes to driving across the county, as opposed to up and down the county, no roads lead to Rome.
So, with traffic backed up all the way to Rye, what did that mean for Rye to me and me to Rye?
Or me to anywhere, for that matter.
My Bronx semester wasn't starting for a couple of weeks. There wasn't any place I absolutely had to go.
The news stories kept coming; the traffic kept being inexplicably and catastrophically backed-up-to-Rye. The mental imagery was oppressive, and as the days wore on I began to feel like the best course of action was to stay inside my house.
Maybe inside my bedroom.
I should probably file a class action suit against the state of New Jersey on behalf of all the people who almost became agoraphobic as a direct result of the Fort Lee lane closings.
the press conference