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City Desk

Interstate Gleanings

by Richard Brookhiser

I spend three hours a week on the bus that takes me from city to country and back.

The urban terminus was spiffed up in Giuliani time but, given the economics of travel, it still serves the young, the poor, the stingy second-homer, and the doughtiest of commuters. The country terminus serves the little college town whose 17th-century core has been swallowed by bars and U.N. fast food (gyros, kebabs, tamales, sushi, pizza). Jack and Jane Kerouacs ride back and forth, in search of biking, hiking, hooking up, and studying.

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