I'm a bit teary-eyed this morning after seeing this. This is my neighborhood. This was my childhood. This was my part of the city; my schools, my parks, my theaters, my restaurants, my buses, my life. This is exactly where I lived until I left the city for the Air Force and never came back.
Thanks to my best friend from those days who sent this today. A toast to the good times, long gone.
2 comments:
Let their be no doubt about where your obsession with food started!
Ah, a twinge of nostalgia is such a great thing . . .
After losing track of all the 'kids with whom I grew up' in the Bronx (during eleven years overseas and never being closer than 1200 miles during my short periods of stateside assignment) I did one of the most psychically-rewarding things I've ever accomplished.
I spent three years tracking down almost all of them, via the internet - and another year herding them together for a very unique reunion.
The number of them that had died (in their 30s, 40s, and 50s) during those years was a real shock - and prompted the survivors to participate. It might be the last chance to see those people from your grade and high school years.
It was great. (No, it was fantastic - and everyone had a great story.) The girls were just as pretty as when they were 15; just older. The guys' waistbands had expanded, and their hair was now gray, white, or gone - but after a few beers, it was 1964 all over again!
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