Somewhere between Boston and Northvale, something changes.  I think it's when I'm crossing the Tappan-Zee Bridge and heading into Rockland County that something in my head reverts and I become some I used to be.  It's not just my accent that code shifts, but the way I think changes.  
I went to the Palisades mall on Saturday to finish off last minute Christmas shopping.  Considering I worked there during Christmas 2 years ago, you'd think I'd know better.  I parked down in the Home Depot lot (and it was just like when I worked at B&N) and I started walking up the hill to get to mall proper.  And I think, "Man, this is far.  I can't believe I used to walk this all the time!" and then I thought, "I can't believe I just thought that, this isn't far at all."  I walk farther than that all the time in Boston--I walk at least that far just to get to the T stop.  But something flips a switch in my brain and all of a sudden 200 feet is far.  
I went out with old friends while I was home, too, and the same thing happened.  I'm not that person anymore, but I was when I was with them.  How can change be so impermanent?  When I read old journal entries, I don't recognize that person anymore.  So how can I become that person so easily?
I'm back in Boston, now, so my Jersey accent is mellowing again.  You are probably all lucky you didn't hear it while I was home.
 
 
1 comment:
Isn't it amazing that our many selves can appear so quickly?
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