Talking through the wait

My first year here in Halifax, most of my social life remained four hours west, making evening phone calls relatively easy (if initiated during my evening).  This year, it’s become more diffuse.  I know more people here, of course–folks grounded in the same time zone as I am–and my son has moved four time zones east, while many friends of course remain an equal number in the opposite direction.

All of this means that online activities like twitter and email, chat, etc. become increasingly the friendlier options.  Early Friday mornings (my time) turn out to be a good time to chat with someone in Scotland who is lucky enough to have no Friday morning classes, while deep Sunday evening (nightcap time here) translates to the cocktail hour in Berkeley.

This morning’s Halifax-facing-east discussion revolved around the continuingly open question of whether I should be the one to travel at Christmas. The other, perhaps more deeply plumbed, subject was Woolworth’s demise, which is causing more sturm und drang on my son’s part than I’d imagined likely.  In addition to noting all the benefits of the local one–which seem to have included his larder-we retold “family stories” about Woolies:  how his grandmother swore by their lunch counters as the place to eat if one were newly arrived in a strange city (advice I was fed in the same lecture as how many changes of socks and underwear to pack for a trip, regardless of length–three); how the Kennedy boys (yes, the Kennedy boys) apparently ran amok in the Coolidge Corner branch library which later (in my own time) became a Woolworth’s….

And as things do in cyberspace, one thing led to another and as I looked up a current version of Coolidge Corner, what to my wondering eyes should appear but…Peet’s Coffee?????


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