Location, Location, Location

Just when I thought the days of going to the park with Ryanne were over, I got a pleasant surprise. Not only did she want to check out St. Clair Park, but we walked the trail to get there. She even wandered around to the old basket ball court with me. It has been more than a year since she was willing to go near there at all. I doubt she ever will again.
Which reminds me, I might be the only person who refers to the old basketball court. About twenty years ago water began to collect in the center of the asphalt. Ryanne and I used it to float sticks in the summer and slide around on in the winter. Three years ago it was abandoned to the frogs and a hopeful, but bound to be disappointed, male mallard duck. Last year the whole lower playground was dozed over, filled with tons of mulch, and planted in native plants.
Referring to places by naming what used to be there is a very silly habit, but it is interesting to see how many people know what I mean. When my doctor moved her offices to the old Turkey House, several people told her about it before I had a chance. On the other hand, when I say “the old Sears” I usually have to explain, “you know, where the Athletic Club used to be.”
Although giving directions to get somewhere by referencing what used to be there is useless, people still do it. I was once told to turn left by the old Sinclair gas station. That seemed like a good reference because Sinclair Gas had the unmistakable logo of a dinosaur shaped sign. But there was no Sinclair station, no building at all in fact. I wandered for what seemed to be an hour on the highway that used to be the old 99. When I finally got to my destination, it was explained to me that I was supposed to turn where the gas station was, not that there was a gas station there.
The trails to the the old basketball court were also filled in with mulch. There is no reason that I should care because I have no reason to go there anyway. My brain just doesn't want to let go of the memory.

Nancy Sherer