![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The advertising changes weekly on the New Jersey Transit trains that run the northeast corridor line into New York City. Lacking a camera, I seriously considered stealing the ad poster. Who will believe me? It said:
People with Tourette Syndrome Are Fortunate to Live in New Jersey.
The small print on the rest of the poster was all about treatment centers, support groups, research grants, etc., but nothing can erase that opening collision of stereotypes. A person with Tourette's who wished to pass for normal could not do better than to move to New Jersey, where we all suffer from coprolalia.
It's been quite a weekend. Various much-missed friends who now live out of state are passing through, and in the middle of all the hoopla, my sister traveled up to NYC (coincidentally, on her birthday), to hear her husband's band play. Had to go up for that--and they are very good. They sound sort of like Rusted Root, only stripped down to four moving parts, and more obsessed. (I'm delighted and amused by this very blurry picture of my brother-in-law--acoustical engineer by day, superspeedy percussionist by night.) In lieu of "Happy Birthday," they interrupted their usual driven, moody, chthonic set to give Pru a lovely rendition of "Dear Prudence."
Since today is the last day of National Poetry Month, it's a good time to urge you to visit the New Jersey Transit terminal in Penn Station next time you're in NYC. That city may be the nation's art capital, but no state loves poetry better than Jersey does. Whitman's our homeboy. Our statewide Poets in the Schools program is a model admired all over the country, and unmatched by any other. We host the best poetry festival in the English-speaking world. And our train terminal is a temple of poetry. No exaggeration. Go see for yourself.
So maybe the people of New Jersey are lucky to have Tourette syndrome?
Anyhow, what with all these people coming and going all weekend, I have accepted that there will be no lj catch-up for the four days I've fallen behind on my friends list. I hope all your weekends were fabulous.
People with Tourette Syndrome Are Fortunate to Live in New Jersey.
The small print on the rest of the poster was all about treatment centers, support groups, research grants, etc., but nothing can erase that opening collision of stereotypes. A person with Tourette's who wished to pass for normal could not do better than to move to New Jersey, where we all suffer from coprolalia.
It's been quite a weekend. Various much-missed friends who now live out of state are passing through, and in the middle of all the hoopla, my sister traveled up to NYC (coincidentally, on her birthday), to hear her husband's band play. Had to go up for that--and they are very good. They sound sort of like Rusted Root, only stripped down to four moving parts, and more obsessed. (I'm delighted and amused by this very blurry picture of my brother-in-law--acoustical engineer by day, superspeedy percussionist by night.) In lieu of "Happy Birthday," they interrupted their usual driven, moody, chthonic set to give Pru a lovely rendition of "Dear Prudence."
Since today is the last day of National Poetry Month, it's a good time to urge you to visit the New Jersey Transit terminal in Penn Station next time you're in NYC. That city may be the nation's art capital, but no state loves poetry better than Jersey does. Whitman's our homeboy. Our statewide Poets in the Schools program is a model admired all over the country, and unmatched by any other. We host the best poetry festival in the English-speaking world. And our train terminal is a temple of poetry. No exaggeration. Go see for yourself.
So maybe the people of New Jersey are lucky to have Tourette syndrome?
Anyhow, what with all these people coming and going all weekend, I have accepted that there will be no lj catch-up for the four days I've fallen behind on my friends list. I hope all your weekends were fabulous.
