Our application has been accepted to move into Doylestown. After 3 years in New Jersey, I’m finally coming home!
Let’s take a quick look at my previous commutes:
Frenchtown to Parsippany, 48 miles each way (1 hour)
Frenchtown to Horsham is about 28 miles each way (45 minutes)
Doylestown to Horsham is about 10 miles each way (15 minutes)
Moving to Doylestown will save me 30 minutes each way! Let’s think about how freaking awesome that is going to be:
30 minutes x 2 (to and from Horsham) = 1 Hour
1 Hour of more time with my family x 5 (5 weekdays) = 5 hours a week
50 weeks (we’ll subtract two weeks for vacations and holidays) x 5 hours = 250 hours of more free time a year!
That’s about 10 and a half days that I won’t be spending in the car! Let me say that again, 10 and a half days that I won’t be spending in a Honda! And these numbers are based off my shorter commute from Frenchtown to Horsham.
Our apartment will be close to the center of town and we’ll have a big pool in our complex too. Winston loves swimming, I can see him in there every day of the summer. We’ll be close to friends and family, and most importantly, softball! I might even play in another league on a weeknight (probably not though, my wife might draw the line there!). If it’s not softball, I’d love to do a trivia night or something.
Frenchtown was perfect for my time working in Jersey. Neat stores, cool restaurants, and some interesting people. The river always made for a fun afternoon or romantic evening. Let’s look back at the top ten moments in Frenchtown. I will only post one today, I will post more as we get closer to moving out:
10. Attending a “Beach Party” at the Masonic Lodge. Through the Lion’s Club, Jaclyn and I were invited to a beach party at the Masonic Lodge. We secured a baby sitter and prepared for wild beach themed shenanigans. I had seen shows about the Masons and had concluded that they secretly run the US government, I couldn’t believe that we were being offered the chance to see the inside of a Masonic Lodge. We opened the large wooden doors, and stepped inside. No one greeted us at the door so we walked deeper into the sanctuary. We entered a big empty room with a couple of fold out tables, an old transistor radio playing music so softly that it was barely audible, and about six elderly couples mulling around an inflatable palm tree. Jaclyn and I were too far into the room to turn back. The elderly Masons looked at us as if we were trying to rob the place. I quickly explained that I was a member of the Lions Club and we had received an invitation to attend. They all greeted us and we were handed some paper plates and instructed to help ourselves to some home cooking. We got sucked into 3 hours of conversation about the Masons, one guy’s love of the Boy Scouts, and we even got a tour of the place. The tour was quite fascinating, there was a big room with hundreds of chairs, a podium, all kinds of ritualistic garb, and creepy paintings of George Washington and the unfinished temple (Jaclyn swears that she saw the eyes in the George Washington’s painting follow us as we walked across the room). All in all, it was a pretty lame night, but comparable to a trip to gravity hill when you’re a teenager.