I feel as if I've aged five years in the past few months. Just deserts, I suppose, as I spent much of my early youth wanting to be old. I took unusual pleasure in wearing second hand suits early on. I took to Dominoes and Backgammon in admiration of the elegant old Greek, Italian, and Armenian men who congregated in the neighborhood parks on the weekends. I methodically strained my eyes for many months around age 9 in a desperate hope to require glasses. I scored a cane at a garage sale with immeasurable glee. I once even regrettably shaved the corners of my hairline to give it the appearance of receding. I was 12. And, actually, it was only one corner - I realized immediately that attempting this ruse after a summer tan was naive at best. The 'bald' patch was a shockingly bright and bare contrast, which I then needed to conceal by drawing hairs back in with a Sharpie. This proved far from convincing, so i scrapped that plan and went with a bandaid, concealing some non-existent injury which demanded further fabrication to sympathetic inquiries. 

These days I no longer pretend. Though the practiced scowl and shaking of a fist in the air never quite took, the body gives. An aching back, sore joints. Nerves. General malaise. Suspicious looks at the sky. But as old as I may feel or be - at this time of year - and this week in particular - my elementary heart can more readily access memories of youth. I've mentioned this before, but my heart still beats to the school calendar. The new year starts in September for me. A silly but certain rebirth. I can still access that particular nervous excitement of returning to a familiar and common space - to classmates, crushes, old friends and curious new faces joining together for another annual adventure. New purpose and new plots. New memories to be made.

I can't wait until this strange season is over for us. We look forward to seeing all your faces when we get through this. To gathering again, whether in parks or in our little classroom on 40th St. We hold our collective breaths and look forward to reconnecting. To sharing stories of summer, of tall tales and short-lived exercise plans. To hearing all about your new habits and hobbies and, perhaps, of a regrettable hair cut or two.

To feeling, if not young, perhaps new - again. 


Sending love, 

Daniel