Some things that I took for granted as a kid, I now look to for rejuvenation and fulfillment. Saturday May 16th was the annual Bedford, Barrow, Christopher Street fair. As a kid it was always fun to hang out in the middle of the street, exploring the hundreds of vendors while eating corn on the cob and dancing into the evening with friends and family. But as I got older and preoccupied with the teenage life, the magic of the fair diminished or at least, was forgotten. However, living here again these last few years after spending seven in Massachusetts, I have come to find that there are few things in the neighborhood that remind me of the way Greenwich Village was when I was a kid.
Admittedly, being old enough to drink provides the occasion with a different twist from my youth; My friends and I sipped bottle after bottle of wine throughout the afternoon and into the night. But, it was the live bands that played until 11 p.m. and how they invigorated the dozens of street dancers, from toddlers to their grandparents (some of whom I'm sure were a bit tipsy themselves) that made the event so special. It felt like "neighborhood" was still alive and well in the West Village.
Perhaps my constant frustration with the changes I see all around me need not be so consistent. Maybe, just maybe, there is still magic left here from the days past, and possibly even the chance that I may witness new magical G.V. traditions in the future... or maybe it will only be for one night a year...
Regardless, the B.B.C. fair cured my chronic nostalgia for a while, reminding me why I call NYC home.
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