Scanning one old photograph is like trying to eat just one chip.
I vividly remember the day this one was taken, or at least I think I do.
Memories are so often fractured, and can get jumbled in my brain.
Anyway, the day I ascribe to this day was a hot one,
summer, definitely summer.
I was visiting relatives in Brooklyn.
Flatbush in the '60s,
pre-pre-pre hipsters being conceived let alone setting foot in the borough.
My cousin, who was probably only 14, took me to visit her mother at work.
I was going to have my picture taken.
A very big deal.
The journey to get there was memorable.
I'm most certain it was my first subway ride, and the noise was almost unbearable.
I was overwhelmed by the crowds, the darkness as the lights flickered,
the heat, and the screeching sound of steel.
I may have even screamed.
Outside, I recovered quickly.
I was carefree walking the wide, urban sidewalks. So much to see.
I was mesmerized by everyone who crossed my path, until
I was scolded for being impolite.
My suburban neighborhood was no match for this colorful playground.
The adventure did not leave a trace of trauma or upset on my face.
Just pure delight.
