I know that one person’s nostlagia can be another person’s mind-numbing boredom. Sometimes the things from the past that most touch us, that most bring us to life, are things which no audience — not even an audience of one — is eager to hear about.
So some of us keep a lot of our memories to ourself. Or we try.
Last week, I had the still shocking experience of learning that one of my graduate students here in NYC grew up in the same southern California suburb I did, and that her family owned the Five Lanterns Chinese Retaurant, in Covina, California, the place I had my first job.
I was a bus boy in that wonderful Chinese Restaurant, one of only two Chinese Restaurants for miles around in a suburb that — to this day — I recall as one of the least diverse places I have ever seen or visited.
The result is that, in the last week, I have been overwhelmed with memories of a town, West Covina, California, from which I had supposedly escaped close to 40 years ago. And West Covina never comes without a mention of Covina, you’ll no doubt be thrilled to learn.
I may have more to say later: For now, all I am feeling is the flimsiness of concepts like escaping, “getting away from it all,” or starting over. They may be occasionally useful in the course of a lifetime, but it seems that I have rarely been able to truly escape or get away from anything.
Memories, joys, and hurts travel. And travel well.
I dropped an enormous tray of dishes at that restaurant. On a busy weekend night. And until last week, that tray was gone forever.
It’s back.
Steve,
I think I was your next door neighbor in WC. Hartley Street? We moved in ’59 but still get up for visits. Big changes and nothing changes. Glad to be in San Diego.
Take care,
Bill
Funny, I too “escaped” to San Diego, Bill. But I have to admit, I still enjoy heading back from time to time for some good Mexican food or Pastrami.
It has been interesting growing up and getting older. Because, for a place that I couldn’t wait to escape, I think about it a lot and remember how much I learned and experienced there; and how many people I remember with great warmth and affection.
Yes, there were snooty and bigoted people who I don’t miss, but at this stage I find myself unwilling to throw out the baby with the bathwater. I became very much of who I am in West Covina and Covina, and –year by year — I find it harder to see the pettiness, the trivialities, the boredom and easier to remember the teachers and the librarians and storekeepers who made such a positive difference.
Truth be told, I miss it a lot of the time.