Return to Park Slope!

 Oh my God! Sunday afternoon in Brooklyn. I promised myself that I would leave the upper west side at any cost! So I did---started off near BAM, had a coffee and desert---then headed to Grand Army Plaza and the Central Library. Like the Niarchos Center on 5th and 40th, this library is enormous---means enormous choices for me to consider. Both these libraries overwhelm me---all my interests seem to shove threw my brain, and any real choice seems impossible. But wondered around for at least an hour---maybe more---through fiction, theater (both American and English); then upstairs to art and history--many, many choices--last room the history room---gravitated towards books about the south Bronx---same old story--disinvestment and then remarkable commitment from the community to improve. But I have heard that so many times. Still trapped in "lost" vision of the Bronx that I grew up in---the mostly Jewish, mostly white Bronx that changed around the late sixties or early seventies. Left the library---did not take anything out, then gravitated to Prospect Park West, a few blocks over. Just sat.  Observed the neighborhood---now, as everyone knows, very high priced. Remembered my adventures there in the late sixties and early to mid seventies--friends in inexpensive apartments---one or two bars---that world attracted nurses, social workers, some young actors, of course writers---an easy place to live---very laid back--people could be "cool" with one another. Saw Al of that while watching the present. And now what is this neighborhood? A warm and beautiful shrine to wealth! At least that was my perception of it. Remember the boundaries changing---nobody living west of 6th; then fifth; then------still would be lying if I did not say I enjoyed---felt safe in that calm environment. Stayed on the bench in awe for what must have been a half hour--then walked to 7th ave---turned right towards Flatbush and eventual Subway ride back to the upper west side. But needed an ice coffee---found myself near the coffee and desert shop called (I believe) Cousin John. Went in---wow! Overwhelmed by the pastry choices---never have seen so many--over consumption...? Seemed a perfect complement to the wealth of the neighborhood. Staff very pleasant---finished and walked to Flatbush and north to Bergen---took the subway home.

What to make of all this? Sitting on the bench on Prospect Park West---looking at the luxury building across the street---where was I in all this? As repulsed as I was by how homogenius the world of Park Slope had become, wasn't it also true that I could imagine myself living there comfortably? Hating the neighborhood for what it had become, yet anxious to return. A longing to integrate myself into that world. Stuck with this basic contradiction---how does it end?

Monday morning---body tired from yesterday's trip--one session in the library later in the day---return to normalcy. But can't give up that image.....