Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Always Going Home

I'm going back to New York tomorrow for another semi-important gig, and this time I'll be staying within blocks of my old home.  Coming as a disruption in the ongoing process of getting used to my new life in a place that could be a million miles away, this trip is making me feel a little trepidatious.  I'm uneasy about going back to the old neighborhood.  While I have a sense of my obligation to pay calls on the comrades of my past, in most cases I would really rather not.  There is a certain sense in which my anonymity in my new city is a blessed relief.  I know very few people, and very few people know me; so, while it is true that, as Faulkner said, "the past is never dead.  It's not even past," no one here has to know it. 

I recently dyed my hair a different shade from my natural color, and, though the upcoming visit to my old stomping ground did not consciously play a part in my new color choice, I'm now sort of half-hoping that, if any of my old confrères sees me on the street, they will fail to recognize me and will walk on.

(Incidentally, Betty Duffy also has a post up -- as usual, an excellent and thought-provoking one -- about going back to the old neighborhood).


Rodak said...

Eat a couple of slices for me, you lucky girl. (And knock 'em dead!)

Pentimento said...

Thanks, Rodak. It shouldn't be a problem to find good pizza, since I'm staying in the Bronx!

Rodak said...

Now you're killing me! New York pizza is the best in the world, and Bronx pizza is the best in the City!

Pentimento said...

Word. We used to laugh when Domino Pizza stuffed menus under our door. What could they possibly have been thinking?!