If you recently had to drive in the Monticello area, it was almost impossible to avoid road construction. It began a few weeks ago when dump trucks, excavators and assorted vehicles began assembling on either side of Route 17 near Walmart. Soon traffic cones and concrete barriers were erected signaling the start of building the roundabouts that, at least to me, seem unnecessary. It always seemed easy enough to maneuver my way on or off Route 17 at Exit 105. 

To avoid the traffic already building up around the roundabouts project, I decided to use Exit 106 and get to Monticello via East Broadway. Maneuvering around the traffic circle, I headed towards Monticello only to encounter more traffic cones and construction vehicles replete with orange vested workers serving to occasionally halt traffic. Later, I read that they are fixing drainage issues in that area and building sidewalks. Sidewalks? I do not recall seeing anyone walking between the car wash and the tire store. 

But those projects will pale in comparison to what is coming down the pike or in this case, Route 17. The Federal and State powers decided to go ahead with turning Route 17 into Interstate 86. Included in their plans is adding a third lane in each direction and erecting a dividing barrier that is required on all interstates. I have no idea when that construction will begin. But my guess, in their infinite wisdom, it will be scheduled to commence sometime around Memorial Day just as the influx of our summer guests arrive. 

Now that I have vented, allow me to delve into the significance of the number 86. Having spent the summers of my college years working as a waiter in a number of our erstwhile hotels, the number 86 has a distinct meaning. In kitchen jargon it means that an item was not available. For example, the prized possession on Saturday night was procuring an “end cut” of roast beef for your best tipping guests. Since there were only two of those cuts for every hunk of beef, the chef on the mainline, already stressed out, would shout “86” causing you to go back to the table to pitch the salmon alternative.

So, when I heard the new interstate will be 86, I thought that somebody, with a sense of humor, bestowed it upon on our area. An area that once had hundreds of hotel chefs yelling 86 at college-bound waiters.

There are a number of theories about the derivation of “86 it.” Most historians say it developed at a prohibition speak-easy called Chumley’s in New York’s Greenwich Village. Chumley’s had a main entrance on Barrow Street and a hallway that led to a door exiting onto 86 Bedford Street. When the police raided the speak-easy, the bartender would shout “86 it” and the bootleg-swilling crowd would scramble onto Bedford Street 

Another theory also deals with alcohol but of the legal type. Until the 1980s, whiskey came in 100- and 86-proof bottles. When a customer was getting too drunk from 100-proof booze, the owner would instruct his bartender to “86 it” meaning to pour his next drink from the 86-proof bottle.

There are some theories that “86” has a military connection. The U.S. Military Code of Justice has Article 86 which describes procedure for trying a soldier who goes Away Without Leave…AWOL. Some trace the term to clerks who typed up the orders from military tribunals. Rotary phones had letters assigned to each number. The letter “T” was under the “8” and the letter “O” was under the 6. So, when a soldier was found guilty, the courtroom clerk would dial T, O and alert the guards.

To many of us who waited tables during the heyday of Sullivan County, “86” was and will continue to be part of our shared memory. My hope is that all this new roadwork including Interstate 86 will bring more year-round residents and businesses to our area. 

Maybe prosperity is just around the corner or, in this case, just around a few laps of a roundabout as your confused GPS keeps chirping “recalculating.”

Hudson Cooper is a resident of Sullivan County, a writer, comedian and actor.