Nostalgia and Into Video

[twirlgrrl]

I think it's because I'm 40. It could also be a combination of that with a few other things, such as the fact that I've become a parent and it's kindof shifted my place in the universe, or because the sprout is now self-sufficient enough to not occupy my entire brain for every waking moment, or because I'm going outside after dark once in a while. I am just full of nostalgia these days, taking long looks backward in time. Wherever I go I am surrounded by memories. I fantasize about writing them all out in my LJ, before I forget any more details. But I rarely get the time or headspace to do that. It's such a strange feeling; I was always drawn to the past, and held my memories dear, but this kind of remembering has a different timbre, sort of a Scroogey this-was-your-life quality. I know my life is probably only half over, but it's interesting to reflect on what that half contains, and do a bit of reorienting around what I may fill the second half with.



Last night we took Blue out to dinner after a wonderful visit to Stowe Lake in the park--free range toddler!--and stopped in at Into Video afterwards. Into is the coolest. I love it even more than Le Video because their counter folks aren't snotty, and because they're open until 1am. The owner, Mike, happened to be working the counter. Of course I hadn't seen him for a long while. Not only does he not work the counter at that branch anymore, but I rarely physically go to rent a video anymore. Anyway, he said hi and called it "old home night" because another longtime customer had just left. I started thinking about my history with that place. When I first became a customer there, I had just moved to San Francisco, and it was my neighborhood video store (it's in the Haight.) I remember being impressed with their collection and with the funky t-shirts they hung all over the walls and ceiling. There was one with a picture of Dennis Hopper on the front, holding that oxygen mask to his face as he did in Blue Velvet, and it said "DON'T YOU FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" I still regret not buying that shirt, even if just to hang it on my wall. I wasn't sure I was cool enough for San Francisco yet, and stopped in wearing my dorky work clothes a lot, feeling acutely self-conscious. I put my foot in my mouth a couple of times trying to flirt with a clerk I developed a crush on after she told me not to park where the motorcycle meters were (DUH!!) And then I developed a silent crush on a shy hippie counter boy who became notorious when he disappeared for several days to get some "head space" and triggered a missing-person search. When I moved across the bay to Oakland I still drove into the city to rent movies from Into occasionally--it felt more like home than any video store in the East Bay.

I found out later that Into had only been open a few months when I signed up as a customer! I thought they were an established hip cool groovy presence on Haight Street when I first went. Ha ha. One thing I love about being older is that I care much, MUCH less about coolness than I did then. Anyway. The place has been open for about 17 years. I've been going there for about 17 years. SEVENTEEN YEARS. How do that many years even pile up in a person's life?

Comments

[jerrygarciuh.livejournal.com]

I have been feeling the same way. The way the time disappears into past units of weeks and years and babies become boys who play outside on their own and need to be called to dinner.

[twirlgrrl.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I'm sure parenthood is a huge part of this. It's weird, isn't it? Maybe especially for us peter pan hippie types.