March 29, 2026

By Arthur H. Gunther III

thecolumnrule.com

No matter where you live, the mojo that is you may be elsewhere. It is for me. Life moves you – literally – into various locations and houses, and for some at least there are benefits and that should make you thankful. Yet a house is not always a home.

In my case, I was fortunate to grow up in a semi-rural county named Rockland north of the great City of New York but in my time worlds apart from urbanity and not yet the suburbs. Today the county has seen even more diversity, though that has been its history since Native-American and Dutch times. Various people of many and culturally rich lifestyles have arrived and built lives here, including from revered old city neighborhoods.

Rockland, though its land planning has been more rushed than well thought out, benefits from its growing mix of cultures, ethnicities, religions and outlook. But for those of us like me, who remain country at heart, we require calmer music though the rhythms and notes of all are welcome. We just put on a different record.

Each morning, quite early, about 4:30 or 5, I am up, and once the creaks are gone from my body, I deliberately take to roads so much less traveled than later when traffic again becomes the lifestream of our suburban/urban

area. The ride for coffee at small places of welcome routine owned by Charlie, Ali, Ahmed and others and the small talk we have as I also buy a city tabloid keeps me close to habits from young adulthood.

Ken Myles, a friend who reads this weekly offering, recently commented on the soda fountains that were a fixture in so many downtowns, such as Brown’s, Arvanite’s and Mager’s in my childhood Spring Valley/Hillcrest. “Like Mr. Gower’s in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ ” as Ken put it.

Owing to upbringing and the blessings that country living have brought me, though soda fountains are largely gone and so are the old neighborhoods, the early-morning rides in great quiet and on empty roads reset my rhythm to an earlier time.

Of course, an urbanite recalling the corner neighborhood store in Gotham surely has a metaphorical equivalent. Perhaps that rhythm has many more notes than my country music, but so be it. Thank the heavens for that.

We all march to different music. I do mosey though.

The writer is a retired newspaperman.

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