About Locust Valley...
Sep. 11th, 2007 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexpgpNaturally, as I am not a native son, I am probably not the best person to provide insight into this burg, but then again, in a world where war correspondents can get hired without knowing the difference between a spent and an unfired round, anything goes.
At least I can provide some insight as an outsider.
Locust Valley is a sleepy little town located between Glen Cove and Oyster Bay. There are multimillion-dollar estates around, along with swanky conference centers and golf clubs, and yet a morning drive down Forest Avenue - the main drag in town - reveals a number of scruffily dressed, swarthy men, standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, ready and willing to work for what I presume is cash money.
The bank where my parents have their account closes at 3 pm most days, staying open until 5 pm only one day per week.
Next to the bank there is a Gristedes with truly outrageous prices (I think you'd pay less for most items at convenience stores in Texas). Then again, a convenience store in Texas won't have the selection of olive oil that his store has (rough guesstimate: 4 shelves high x 15 feet wide). You want extra-virgin olive oil from, specifically, Tuscany? They got it. You want extra-virgin olive oil pressed from Kalamata olives? They got it. They also have a wall of vinegars that ranges from acetic acide diluted to consumer grade, to fine Balsamic vinegars, to various other flavored vinegars.
How they have managed to stay in business is beyond me, as there are a King Kullen and a Stop 'N Shop just down the road a couple of miles, and other, bigger stores (e.g., Pathmark) if you don't mind a 15 minute drive.
Things left to do in the next couple of hours:
Cheers...
At least I can provide some insight as an outsider.
Locust Valley is a sleepy little town located between Glen Cove and Oyster Bay. There are multimillion-dollar estates around, along with swanky conference centers and golf clubs, and yet a morning drive down Forest Avenue - the main drag in town - reveals a number of scruffily dressed, swarthy men, standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, ready and willing to work for what I presume is cash money.
The bank where my parents have their account closes at 3 pm most days, staying open until 5 pm only one day per week.
Next to the bank there is a Gristedes with truly outrageous prices (I think you'd pay less for most items at convenience stores in Texas). Then again, a convenience store in Texas won't have the selection of olive oil that his store has (rough guesstimate: 4 shelves high x 15 feet wide). You want extra-virgin olive oil from, specifically, Tuscany? They got it. You want extra-virgin olive oil pressed from Kalamata olives? They got it. They also have a wall of vinegars that ranges from acetic acide diluted to consumer grade, to fine Balsamic vinegars, to various other flavored vinegars.
How they have managed to stay in business is beyond me, as there are a King Kullen and a Stop 'N Shop just down the road a couple of miles, and other, bigger stores (e.g., Pathmark) if you don't mind a 15 minute drive.
Things left to do in the next couple of hours:
- Pack the car!
- Vacuum the last of what needs it.
- Clean the kitchen
- Drop off the old man's ditty bag at a neighbor's
- Shower, sleep
- Check the house to make sure lights are off, etc.
- Hit road
Cheers...
