T-MOBILE TRAFALGAR SQUARE SING ALONG

Before I repost this on my Tumblr, I thought I’d embed it here first.  I wish T-Mobile USA would do these types of things in NYC.  They seem like so much fun, and I love the spirit of happiness and camaraderie that results from it.  This is T-Mobile UK’s second major public act, with the first being the T-Mobile dance off at Liverpool St. Station.  This may not be a specific targeted type of advertising about the T-Mobile network or its products, but I think it does add a sense of cool and is a nice way of spontaneously bringing people together (or stick[ing] together, T-Mobile USA’s slogan).

A Tralfalgar Square crowd singing the Beatles classic “Hey Jude”.

THE TWILIGHT OF MY CHILDHOOD

In August I will be 23.  Legally, I’m already an adult.

But I don’t feel like one.

I still grasp for the imaginative creativity I utilized daily as a child.  I long for what I presume to be simpler times, full of play and joy and a sense of adventure.  I hold my memories of being a kid close to my heart.  I anchor some of my boyhood memories and experiences to tangible things, to places and people.  Many of them are gone now.  I associated news with Peter Jennings and ABC, movie reviews from Joe Spiegel, “school” was St. Joseph’s, “the park” was always one particular park near my uncle’s house, and “the mall” always meant one specific mall not too long a drive away.  Some people are no longer with us, and places inevitably change.  There are a few institutions left that I can still visit, places I inherently know when visiting, or revisiting.

One of them was a gyro stand in a mall.  It was there that I had my first taste of a gyro, something I considered “exotic” food, even though what I ate at home is probably far more “exotic” to most people… or at least once was, before the proliferation of Thai restaurants.  I have returned to this gyro stand nearly every time I have been home as if it were a religious pilgrimage.  The taste was consistent and the food was comforting, if not exactly very healthy.

Now it’s closed.  The humble stand closed forever.  I found out a week afterward, when I tried to order my gyro platter and found myself standing in front of a metal gate as opposed to a sign that read “Acropolis”.  I was shocked, and more startled at how deeply this event affected me.  I had not realized I had internalized this place, this gyro, as a link to my childhood.  I expected continuity.  I wanted to demand it, force someone to open this shop again and make my the gyro I always knew and occasionally longed for.  My adult brain knew how futile such acts would be, but the kid that I had evolved from was groping dearly for a knowing sense of normality.  The lust for this specific food and its particularly taste would not die.

I have coped.  I have come to terms with the fact that this place will not return.  I believe we call it “acceptance”.  I cannot stop wondering what else will change next, what other institution I have unknowingly bound my heart to will fall and fade away.  There are not many physical places left that remain untainted from change.  I understand that is the way of things.  However, I cannot help but feel that this closure of a small gyro stand has symbolically ushered in the twilight of my childhood.  It is a chilling feeling, and my taste buds will never be the same.

SPRING

Perhaps the title should read “Spring?”.  The weather around this area has been rather strange.  Ranging from freezing winter temperatures to a high of 90 degrees Fahrenheit, I’ve weathered through all four seasons in the span of two months.  Today seems like a most typical spring day, albeit for April: rain showers supplemented by a brisk of cool air.  I’m glad that the weather patterns have seemingly become more predictable (at least for now).  The rain is somewhat refreshing to me, and I don’t mind the inconveniences that arise from it.

Nevertheless, activities are picking up as the summer months inch closer.  The past few weekends have been quite active but enjoyable, full of socializing and old friends.  They tend to be freer as schedules become more flexible, work slows and everyone begins planning for faraway vacations.  I hope to be doing the same, though perhaps not too far.  While a part of me dreads the oppressive heatwaves from June to August, the other part of me cannot wait for summer, with all the buzzing and untapped potential for fun times and new experiences.

I suppose a more fitting title might have been “Awaiting Summer”.