Week 57 of our regular morning feature here at Friedman of the Plains Worldwide in which we highlight the great words and works of great men and women, as well as those who are insufferable, delusional, and even fictional.
This week Colson Whitehead
“You swallow hard when you discover that the old coffee shop is now a chain pharmacy, that the place where you first kissed so-and-so is now a discount electronics retailer, that where you bought this very jacket is now rubble behind a blue plywood fence and a future office building. Damage has been done to your city. You say, ''It happened overnight.'' But of course it didn't. Your pizza parlor, his shoeshine stand, her hat store: when they were here, we neglected them. For all you know, the place closed down moments after the last time you walked out the door. (Ten months ago? Six years? Fifteen? You can't remember, can you?) And there have been five stores in that spot before the travel agency. Five different neighborhoods coming and going between then and now, other people's other cities. Or 15, 25, 100 neighborhoods. Thousands of people pass that storefront every day, each one haunting the streets of his or her own New York, not one of them seeing the same thing.” ― The Colossus of New York
I lived on W72 between Broadway and West End (actually in the building that housed the All State, which was made famous as Mr. Goodbar. From the time I arrived in 1984 until I was evicted in 1988 (illegal sublet), the corner at Broadway changed completely, with my favorite convenience store/deli transformed along with its small-business neighbors into Tower Records.
I thought it would be Paxton Whitehead,; you're broadening my horizons. Have you done Hitchens? If not, and you ever need a week off, just lemme know.
Though I haven't lived in New York, I traveled to the city every two years or so for quite a while, long enough to see Times Square transformed. Not that TS was ever a place that attracted me through all its iterations.