The Hungry and The Dead in New York
Friday, September 20th, 2013
Bob and I had one more piece of business to attend to before leaving New Jersey and heading back into the state of New York, where, with one brief international exception, we’d be spending the rest of trip before driving back to my house. Naturally, that one piece of business on the morning of Saturday, June 1, 2013, was breakfast. We left our Howard Johnson hotel in Newark and headed to Jersey City for dining at the Brownstone Diner. Read the rest of this entry »
It had been a great week in New York city and just as soon as I had grown accustomed to the Big Apple and its ultra-convenient subway system, it was time to leave Manhattan behind and begin the second portion of the two-week trip – which would be continued on the road. I slept in as long as I possibly could before packing up, but was still able to meet Bob and his merry band of travelers down in the lobby by 10am. A shuttle picked us up shortly thereafter and we headed out of the city toward Newark, New Jersey and the Liberty International Airport. It was Friday, May 31, 2013, and it was time for Phase B of our New York trip. 
With the number of times that I’ve flown into New York City, I have spent very scant time doing anything there. The first time I made it into the city was in 1994 when the Sons of the Desert Convetion was held in Tareytown, on the far northern outskirts of the city. My family and my friend John Poe took a train into Grand Central and walked around, doing little else but gawking. My friend Peter guided me to 
Bob and I awoke bright and early on the morning of Saturday, July 14, 2012, in the cleverly christened Mic Mac Motel in York, Maine. We had just barely crossed the Maine border the evening before, but this would officially be my first venture into Maine, the northeasternmost state in the union. In order to get a jump on the day, we left before 7am on this day, heading northward, stopping for breakfast at the Egg-Ceptional Restaurant in Poland for some corn beef hash and a pair of double yolkers. Then we moved on to yet another city named after a country: Paris, Maine.