Last Slice
Nothing lasts forever. This sentiment is more poignant to me at this moment than any other time as I sit here eating a slice of pizza from my favorite pizza place, Joe's. As I wrote a few days ago, Joe's is closing up shop tomorrow after 27 years. Tonight is the last night they are offering dinner so I decided to pick up one last pizza.
It's still hard to believe that they will be gone. 27 years is a long time. They are one of the last independent businesses in the area that has been around since I was born. Everything is new and part of a corporate chain now. And what small business are still here are either recent openings or on the way out.
In going to pick up my order from the restaurant I saw just how much Joe's was loved. The place was packed with families and individuals having their own farewell meals. I had to wait forever for my food but I didn't care. All I could think about was that I will never eat there again. That very soon the building will be razed and replaced with yet another office building we don't need.
Changes like this are not something I handle very well. By nature I'm a sentimentalist and believe in growth and progress while at the same time preserving certain established things and traditions. I don't think I have been this devastated by a redevelopment since I was a kid. There used to be this fantastic playground near my brothers' high school. It was a very old school playground with the wood and metal jungle gyms and swings that hung from exposed chains. There was also this awesome structure made out of cobblestones and concrete. It had a tunnel and you could climb on it. I loved it and spent many a fine hour playing there with my mom and other random kids. When I was about 8 or 9 they decided to close the playground and "redevelop" it. They took out all the old play equipment and demolished the play rock. What they put in was a sea of bright plastic play contraptions and outdoor rubber flooring. My favorite childhood play place was gone and I remember how I cried and how depressed I felt every time we drove past it. I never played there again.
When my childhood play place was destroyed I felt an immense sense of loss and insecurity. I felt the lack of control I had over my world in a very palpable way. It was like being a mugging victim. A valuable piece of myself had been stolen and I could never get it back again. All that remained were my memories, the clarity of which fade with time. I feel much the same way about Joe's. The decision of the landholders to sell out to the developers has left me feeling enraged and victimized. There will never be another Joe's like this one again, not for me anyway. Everything it represented will soon be physically gone, leaving behind only these ghosts we call memories.
You really can't go back again. All any of us can do is go forward and carry with us all that we have endured. The pain will fade with time and the memories will lose some of their edge too. Joe's will always live on in my heart and while the building may be gone the good times and positive feelings it gave me will never be torn down. No one can take those away from me at any price. And it is that one thought that gives me some shred of comfort as I eat my last slice.
