Today was very refreshing. I had the day off from work for Lincoln’s birthday. I wound up going to my parents’ house in the northern New Jersey suburbs so I could pick up a nice black leather jacket that they’d bought me as a late birthday present; getting there entailed using three different forms of transportation — the PATH train, the Newark city subway system, and the New Jersey Transit bus system. Whew.

My brother happened to be there — long story — and the two of us wound up going to the Short Hills Mall, which is a very frou-frou mall in Short Hills, New Jersey (or is it chi-chi? I always get those confused). If there’s an upscale store that has only two locations in the New York City area, and only one of those locations is in Manhattan, it’s a good bet that the other location will be in the Short Hills Mall. What a mall. Where else can you go to Tiffany, Neiman Marcus, the Gap and Mrs. Field’s Cookies all in the same place?

It was great to get away from the slightly cruddy Jersey City area and drive past the exorbitant mansions of Short Hills, NJ, as well as past the beautiful old houses in the town that I still think of as home. And it’s always nice to come home to your parents’ house to see your dog, open up a refrigerator full of food, and sit down to a nice, home-cooked meal.

Sounds like the Cleavers, doesn’t it?

And now that I have a nice black leather jacket, I look like a true stylin’ New Yorker.

It’s sad that I even have to say this, but it seems so rare today to have parents who are still married to each other. My parents soon will celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary. Whatever errors my folks might have made in raising me — and there certainly have been some glaring errors, which partially explains why I’m in therapy — I know that their intentions were good, and I know that they love me, and I’m thankful for them and for the stability that they’ve brought to my life. Perhaps they’ve brought me too much stability, but at any rate, I’m glad I have them, and I’m glad they’re together.