Many years ago, during my first full time teaching position, I lived in the Bronx just off of Allerton Avenue. It was a time I remember fondly often wondering what my life would have been like had it not become necessary to move.

Many years later after choosing one of the two roads that diverged in the wood, I ended up befriending someone in Oklahoma City who, after having been born and in the state retired after a successful career, moved to the Bronx to do something in retirement he could not do before, ending up living just around the corner from where my place had been some 35 years later.

The neighborhood was mainly Italian and Jewish, and not having any grocery store nearby, shopping was done the European way of buying your food for the upcoming meal at dedicated stores like the butcher shop, greengrocer, and the baker’s located in the small commercial section.

Recently on social media we exchange memories of and his present experience with the old ladies in the neighborhood who spend a large chunk of their day shopping for the family’s supper, which too often meant that at the greengrocers they would paw every vegetable with squeezing and shaking and thumping, and leaving after with a purchase with so few vegetables showing there was no justification for the amount of vegetable inspecting. It seems they did it just because they did.

And we were each familiar with that one lady in the neighborhood who shopped as if only she was shopping, and all items belonged to her until she picked the specific ones she wanted. In her mind, as seen in her demeanor, no one was to touch anything from any section from which she had not made choice.

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After our interaction I sketched out the lady we both know 35 years apart and most likely the descendant and channeler of the woman I had known, and I went to a few Pride events in the area and never got the time to finish the blog I had been working on.  

Long wonderful day of post-pandemic community re-uniting.

So, with no politics involved, I offer this.

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