New Jersey: A Primer

Where to begin?  So many misconceptions, so little time.  People from New Jersey are not terribly entertained when upon meeting someone with the misfortune of having been born elsewhere asks, "What exit? Ha-ha."  5 coming from the north, 4 coming from the south.  Satisfied?  We do go "Down the Shore," not to the beach or whatever it is you other people do.  See?  You care what exit we're from, we don't give a damn where you summer.  We INVENTED IT...Cape May.  Look it up.  You watch loads of "Reality" and fiction shows about us...you think you know all about us....but again, notice we're not watching nearly as much "Reality TV" about you...because again, we don't give a damn.  Though there are those that would protest America's obvious fascination with New Jersey...I'm just the messenger here, folks...I would point out me thinks you doth protest too much!  Check the ratings on the Real Housewives of New Jersey, the Sopranos, the Jersey Shore, etc.  Go ahead, make the train wreck argument.  But try this on for size, New Jersey continues to be the most densely populated state in the nation, 11th in actual population while being the 47th smallest state.  Add to that the fact that New Jersey has nearly 1,000,000 acres of protected wetlands, not to mention the glorious home Mrs. Leeds, the Pine Barrens, 22% of New Jersey's land mass, only partially overlapping the wetlands and only marginally inhabitable...due in no small part to Mrs. Leeds' aforementioned 13th son. 
North Jersey and South Jersey are not the same thing.  We take that very seriously.  People from North Jersey favor New York teams.  People from South Jersey know it's all about the Flyers, the Phils, and the Iggles.  That's right, the Iggles.  Snowballs at Santa Claus and Vet Stadium (as my friend Jim would say, 40 on the curb for the Vet), home to the first on-site court and jail in sports, my friends!!!  People from South Jersey do not say "Joisey," nor do we think it's cute when when you do.  People from South Jersey drink "wooder."  People from North Jersey call it "Taylor Ham."  People from South Jersey know that is wrong...and stupid...it's "pork roll." 
Being from New Jersey, there is still much South and North (in no particular order) share.  For starters, we're from New Jersey...thank you, Jesus...and you're not! (I'm doing the thanking on behalf of my Jewish friends as well, you're welcome.) Bruce Willis, Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Grover Cleveland, Jack Nicholson, Buzz Aldrin, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Woodrow Wilson, Judge Scalia...ME and FRANK SINATRA!  We actually DO know where Jimmy Hoffa's body is buried...and we're not telling.  Wetlands are better than deserts...just sayin'.  Most Diners in the world...yummmm....pork roll and cheese on a bagel.  7 malls within 25 miles...BEAT THAT!  Hospital waste on the beach?  Damn skippy...we like a challenge!  Monopoly?  You're welcome.  First baseball game?  Played in NJ.  First college football game?  Rutgers vs Princeton.  Rutgers won.  Walt Whitman...a poet, my friends, not just a bridge!  That "guido" thing?  Not new.  It didn't used to require an arrest record (the closest we got was a detention from Sister if our skirt didn't reach the floor when we knelt or our hair was too high) and an STD test...just a perm, a lot of gold, and Sebastian Spritz Forte.
All these things and more unite those of us from New Jersey.  Mother Leeds' 13th son...maybe he unites us most of all.  You may believe in the Loch Ness Monster, the Chupacabra, or North Carolina's Knobby (don't be sceered DT, he has purty harr), but those...well...maybe, maybe not...  Mrs.Leeds' boy, doesn't care if you choose to believe him....he IS.  Mother Leeds was known to dabble in witchcraft...and swore that on a dark and stormy night, her 13th child would be born of the devil.  When Lucas was born, he looked to all, a normal, baby boy.  As the local women put Lucas in his mother's arms, before their very eyes, his feet became cloven hooves, he sprouted wings and a forked tail...his head described in so many terrifying ways I dare not describe them here!  He flew from her arms, up the chimney, and has terrorized the Pine Barrens ever since.
This was in the 1700s, mind, and some have said that Lucas grew restless, finding the Pine Barrens too small and has since terrorized further north and west into New Jersey.


There are rumors though...terrible rumors...that Lucas has changed his name...and returned east...

...and had a bedazzeled lollipop named after him.  Mother Leeds was right!

Deja Bye Week...

As you know, I am, as are we all, a person of many flaws.  Self awareness, however, is not one of them.  I am in touch with my flaws...I accept them...if you want to get all 21st century, talk show-y about it, I own them.  Among them...though I don't necessarily consider all of these flaws, I have been told others do...we find my strong, often vocal, and frequently as unchangeable as the solar system (?  NO.), the tides, weather, tectonic plates (?  NO.), the rising moon, the setting sun, Stonehenge, the East Coast being infinitely superior to the West Coast, opinions, my failing memory for all things relevant that remains freakishly on point when the people on Law & Order, for example, cast a new police captain and expect me not to notice that years before she was a crackhead defendant's mother, my MILD sports obsession, my love for, if from time to time perceived inappropriate use of, dark humor, my honesty which some people prefer to characterize as unfiltered bluntness...and on my occasional lack of a filter, which I have heard described as abrasiveness...to which I am the tiniest bit tempted to say, "F*ck 'em if they can't take a joke," but that is WAY too obvious a joke so let's just move on.

I felt a quick reminder of these "short-comings" was in order as we dive into the headline this morning that, frankly, gave me such giggles my puppies might have had a taste of my coffee!

"T.O. Rushed to ER for Overdose!"

I have never liked Terrell Owens.  I accepted T.O. to the best of my ability when he played for my beloved Eagles, much as I do now with Michael Vick, but I have never liked the man.  He is a self-centered fame whore who would likely be better served as, I don't know, a boxer, perhaps, because being a team player is well beyond his reach.  When the Eagles were rid of him, I popped prosecco!!!  And when it turned out that Dallas was to be his new home?  Ohhhhh...It was like Christmas, my birthday, and my anniversary all wrapped up into one!!!  Which, happy non-sequitur, they are...Dec 25, 26, 27...which means I always get shafted on prezzies...so get shopping, people!!!  Princess says PUH-LEASE!!!  Giggles.  But, as usual, I digress... It just so happened that I was back, living in Texas for the second time, that season...so I could get to all the divisional games.

On the matter of divisional rivalries and my MILD sports obsession...my Iggles are in the NFC East.  This division also includes the Giants...who we hate, not only as divisional rivals, but in the same way as we do the Jets...with the exception, of course, of Joe Namath, whom we LOVE...hello, straight man in hose and fur playing football, there is just nothing not to love...but they call themselves the NY Giants, though they play, and in many, if not most, cases, live in NJ...the Cowgirls, who we hate as divisional rivals and because they call themselves "America's Team"...and the Redskins.  The Redskins present a unique problem as Husband is, yet again, wrong, clearly, because he is a 'Skins fan!  With my obsession and propensity to speak my mind, you can imagine it gets a little heated at the Preppy Pink Palace during those games.  Sleeping on the couch because a 'Skins fan doesn't deserve my guest room is one of the gentler, recurrent themes.  Husband is also a Penguins fan.  Did you know that you can learn how to tie a noose on Google?  I have a stuffed penguin that does!

I proudly sported my McNabb Eagles jersey to Texas Stadium to watch the Cowboys lose their first game against the Eagles with T.O. as a Cowgirl.  To this day, I'm pretty sure he saw me mocking him from the stands.  As an Eagle, he spent far more time making drama and headlines than making plays and touchdowns.  The same was the case when he became a Cowboy.  He had spent nearly every week in the 2005 season, as an Eagle, in the headlines, and again in 2006 as a Cowboy...

Until the Bye Week...

It was the Cowboys' first bye week of 2006 and something horrible happened....well, horrible if you're T.O...a bye week meant no headlines.  And, as it happens, T.O. would rather (picture a sort of Scarlett O'Hara back of hand to forehead pose here) die than not have the attention his inner fame whore feeds on as if it were air...or a nonfat PSL!  Ohhhh...now I really want a PSL!!!  DAMN!  Focus...focus...ok...moving on... 35 vicodin and a trip to the ER later...guess who was all over the headlines!?!  Suicide attempt?  "Bad Reaction"?  Cry for help?  Cry for publicity?

Fast Forward to 2011...T.O., currently a free agent, announces  that he is retiring...as a joke...and no one cared.  He also announced that his knee is healed and he is ready and fit to play.  Step right up people...the oft injured, 37yr old, prima donna is ready and waiting for your call...and the bidding war he was certain would ensue.  The phone, however, failed to ring.  When faced with no headlines, no calls, no interest, no...well...nothing...T.O. went with what had worked in the past.  Time to OD!  Again, 911 was called immediately...no actual cause for concern...he wouldn't do anything to hurt himself...not for real.  And again...he has, among other things, claimed that this was a "Bad Reaction."  All I could do was laugh and remember back to the 2006 "OD."

Perhaps we ought to add to my list of flaws what might be what, by some, be considered callousness and skepticism...but I'm good with that.  It's not that I'm being cruel, I'm simply looking at it all through realistic colored glasses...and enjoying the hell out of it!  Karma, T.O., karma.  There's a reason that phone isn't ringing...

XOXO,

~CAT