In February 2003 (upon finding oneself in a writing circle in what used to be the local feminist bookshop)
What has happened?
What has brought me back here?
What is it that brings me back here?
This space here—I am describing more things these days by what they used to be. Like this space. I remember buying books here.
On dime day at the book sale two years ago, I found a Smedley’s bookmark. The book it was in wasn’t even worth a dime, but the memories from that little bookmark, they were beyond rubies. So I stole that bookmark.
Or: the King Sub building on West Buffalo St. has, on the west wall, a sign “Instant Printing,” and a roof shape that identifies it as Ithaca’s first Kentucky Fried Chicken. And on the cupola, before the repainting, there was the “Rx” of a pharmacy, the drugstore coming after the chickens, but before the printing.
But wait: is that the same King Sub that was up on Eddy St., first on the Fontana side, and then later on the other side?
There’s a young one at work who bristles when I describe something in terms of what it once was. Talking about the book sale, I mentioned it was really cool when it was in the old Ithaca Calendar Clock building. And when she didn’t know where that was, I said “where Clever Hans used to be, but not where it ended up.” This pushed her over some geographic edge. Too many people had used Clever Hans as the center of their Ithaca compass during the past week. So, because everything is anything but the actual street address, I tried: “It’s in the building where the dog groomer who used to be a therapist is.”
And she knew it right away.
Neither one of us knows the name of the new restaurant, but we both know it’s where Video Ithaca used to be.
Then there’s the Angelheart barn sale, which a couple years ago was where Woolworth’s used to be and last year was where something used to be—you know, in the mall where Jamesway used to be. And the Angelheart store downtown used to be where Monkey Ward’s was. I know that because Autumn Leaves is where Logos used to be, and that’s where Penney’s was. And Logos was where what used to be called People’s Pottery is and where Charjan’s used to be. You can tell that when you look at the sidewalk in front. Right there is a Hallmark crown because Charjan’s was the card shop.
And now, at the end of all this, I am beginning to doubt these chronologies. Where, then, was Newberry’s? High ceilings, wood creaky floors. And Kay’s Fabrics. Kay with the red hair, like Brenda Starr. Lots of wood in the old stores. The Corner Bookstore, off its (assumed) original corner by the time I learned to read—narrow, wooden, high-ceilinged stores. Rothchild’s. With the scary iron elevator and the cigarette machine on the landing between the first and second floors.
What has happened? Everything. Nothing. Even before it rains, the water is already running down through the creeks and over the falls. You can christen the creeks and even re-christen them. The water runs regardless.
And here I am, on the bank in my Angelheart finery, still thinking it’s more than possible for me to step into the same river twice.
cayugaview 