Musings: Trading Long Island rush for a slower pace
Traffic on the westbound Long Island Expressway in Brentwood in June. The author, like many Long Islanders, is used to being in a rush. Credit: Newsday/Steve Pfost
I’m impatient, I can’t help it. I grew up in Queens and lived on Long Island for most of my adult life, commuting from Bellmore to Manhattan for decades. I’m programmed to rush. When I retired and moved off the Island to southern Delaware, I took my ’tude with me.
Every day, I sense my Long Island tendencies.
There’s a brunch place in nearby historic Lewes with long wait times for seating but boasts a bakery, home goods shop, and outdoor sheds brimming with irresistible merchandise to appease customers. Maybe that works for native Delawareans and summer renters. But the owners, with their LSD, or lower slower Delaware, mindset clearly haven’t anticipated my LII, or Long Island impatience.
If a waitress doesn’t come to our table within five minutes of being seated, I’m straining to make dagger-throwing eye contact. “Look at me!” Then I turn to my husband and hiss: “Could she be any slower?” as I watch relaxed stop-n-chats with other customers eating up the time it would take her to take my order!
This LSD pace — warring with my LII sensibilities — is rampant here. We had new blinds installed, well, half-installed, with a promise of a return service call. Weeks passed. A message to the production team on the company portal, along with a terse voicemail, finally prompted a relaxed and friendly return call explaining that the team would be in touch soon. We have different definitions of “soon.”
While I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of Long Island, there are benefits to the densely populated island I pine for. Retail. Healthcare. Restaurants. Good bread. Airports. In Bellmore, I was 18 miles from Kennedy Airport and 29 miles from LaGuardia. Here, the three closest international airports are more than 100 miles away, adding an extra layer of hassle to travel plans.
Getting to any of these airports typically highlights another glaring contrast to life on Long Island. Driving. I’m used to aggressive merging and liberal horn honking.
And I’m not alone. My sister, Joan, who lived in Baldwin for decades and now resides in Central Florida, is also Long Island impatient. If someone’s slow to exit a gas pump or to merge onto a parkway, she’s been known to exclaim, “It’s the pedal on the right, hon!”
I’ll always be a New Yorker and am profoundly proud of my Long Island roots, with all its foibles.
But life here in southern Delaware is wonderful. I’m still adjusting to the pace. On the road or in a restaurant, I try to mind my manners and keep my Long Island expectations in check.
Lower slower Delaware is no match for Long Island impatient.
— Paula Ganzi McGloin, Millsboro, Delaware
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