The Jersey Chronicles: The Brief Renaissance of High School Summer Break in Central Jersey

Following the humid heat of a late-July day, the central Jersey sun begins to fade over the broad leaf tree forests and long fields of green growth. The sunset blasts potent colors over the landscape, a vivid yet calming backdrop to the day’s end. For years I treasured this segue of summer afternoon to summer evening in West Windsor. After many years from the Garden State, this summer brought a reunion of sorts; a chance to connect the present and the past.

Immediately upon my arrival from Amsterdam, I jumped straight onto the NJ transit and rode the NE Corridor line down to Princeton Junction. As is tradition, my good friend Sean picked me up and we kicked it for an hour at the pond, one of our old high school haunts, catching up on stories, lessons learned and sharing our anticipation for the upcoming weeks. They would be exceptional and filled with a hundred little moments of reunion.

The next day brought the first signal of return. In honor of our dear friends, the old neighborhood crew rallied together to perform as the wedding band at our friends’ wedding just a week away. Like old times, we piled a load of instruments into the basement of the last remaining home in the old neighborhood and began to crunch some tunes.

Wow. Years had passed since we truly got down like this. Previously, we just got together free-form jams and played endlessly often aimlessly and always blissfully into the night. This time we actually had responsibilities and the dream team responded, playing like well-aged musicians who finally gained the all-important trait of being able to listen to others. In response, the music pierced the basement walls and shot upstairs bringing listeners down to enjoy it and dance a full week in advance of the main event. With only a day of practice under our belt, the music popped off the strings and drumheads (which was critical given that we only one more day of practice before go time!).

The weekend passed and our confidence with the music grew. When we parted ways for the work week, I felt satisfied with our progress and amped for the main event. Surveying the post-weekend scene, I felt it best to leave wedding headquarters (the reception itself would actually occur in my friend’s family’s backyard and thus the house felt the heat of preparations) and head off to Sean’s place down the road.

Great decision. As remote workers, we both used the days to hustle on the job-front leaving us the evenings to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Each day reminded me of the summer I worked with Sean and our other friend at Cedarville Country Day Camp in East Windsor. In those days we would head out at 7:15, be in full supervision mode by 8, running around with the keen balance of responsibility and insanity you have as a 19-year old in charge of 25 10-year olds. Now we were a little more tied to the internet and the inside, but nonetheless woke up early and got off to work. Mostly, we were so grateful to have the shared companionship again.

Following each workday Sean and I would knock off and cruise the highways and byways of our old stomping grounds. Blazing 571 into Princeton for Olive’s Famous Chicken Salad on baguette or down 130 to team up with BJ for a chill evening on his deck of grilling spare ribs and Jersey corn from the local farm stand.

Each outing brought with it the smells and sights of a thousand previous summer nights. The fresh cut grass in the neighborhoods, a slice of Aljon’s Special Sauce pizza, the algae at Grover’s Mill Pond, fresh-brewed coffee outside Small World and the omnipresent barbecue. The crickets sounding their pulsating chirps, the jam in “Theme from the Bottom” off Billy Breaths, deep and nonsensical conversations and the occasional car flying by on a teenage joyride.

For a moment there I got lost and found. Amiss in the wanderings of days gone past and refreshed in my realization that all of those memories were based in a sublime reality of friendship and setting in the present.