NOSTALGIA FOR THINGS INVOLVING MY DAD (HE’S ALIVE, I JUST REALLY LOVE HIM A LOT)
GROCERY SHOPPING AT THE BROCKTON SHAWS. I WOULD ALWAYS PUSH THE CART. HE FORCED ME TO DO THE DELI ORDER SO I’D BE COMFORTABLE ORDERING THINGS ON MY OWN (½ POUND OF HONEY HAM AND A POUND OF LAND-O-LAKES WHITE, PLEASE). THE DELI MAN ALWAYS GAVE ME A SLICE OF CHEESE TO TRY. I’D BEG MY DAD TO LET ME BUY A “CHUBBY” SODA. HE’D CONCEDE TO HIS CHARMING DAUGHTER. ONCE IN AWHILE, HE’D TREAT ME TO THE MCDONALD’S ACROSS THE STREET FOR NUGGIES (BEFORE THEY WERE ALL WHITE MEAT…) AND FRIES.
THESE DISCONTINUED OLD “CHUBBY” SODAS ARE ON EBAY (STRANGE) AND IN 1 PERSON’S CART (EVEN STRANGER).
FRIDAY NIGHT PIZZA AND MOVIE. WE’D GET AN EXTRA CHEESE PIZZA FROM THE GAS STATION/VIDEO SHOP DOWN THE STREET. THE WORKERS WERE VERY HIGH SO EVEN THOUGH WE ORDERED THE PIZZA IN ADVANCE, WE’D STILL HAVE TO WAIT 30 MINUTES WHEN WE GOT THERE BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS FORGOT TO THROW OUR PIE IN THE OVEN. I’D BEG MY DAD TO LET ME RENT BRING IT ON (FUN FACT: HE TOOK ME TO SEE THIS IN THE THEATER TWICE) OR THE BABYSITTER’S CLUB. HE’D CONCEDE TO HIS CHARMING DAUGHTER. I’D RUN BY THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS VHS BECAUSE THE COVER CREEPED ME OUT AND GAVE ME NIGHTMARES.
HEARING AND WATCHING MY DAD’S CAR PULL UP THE DRIVEWAY. I DIDN’T NEED A DOG GROWING UP BECAUSE MY DAD’S DNA IS HALF GOLDEN RETRIEVER. I HAD A PAVLOVIAN RESPONSE TO HEARING HIS CAR AND WAS EXCITED TO SEE HIM BECAUSE HE WAS EXCITED TO SEE ME.
ASKING MY DAD “WHAT’S FOR DINNER?” AT 5:30AM. MY DAD WOULD WAKE ME UP BEFORE HE LEFT FOR WORK. I'D IMMEDIATELY SIT UP IN BED AND SAY “WHAT’S FOR DINNER?”. THE ANSWER WAS PROBABLY SOMETHING GROSS BUT HE ALWAYS HAD AN ANSWER WHICH MADE ME FEEL CARED FOR.
NOSTALGIA FOR THINGS DURING MY ADOLESCENCE
Thanks for reading A THOUGHTLETTER! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
HALF DAYS. REMEMBER GOING TO SCHOOL TO PLAY FLOOR HOCKEY AND READ A CHAPTER OF THE CATCHER IN THE RYE AND THEN GETTING TO LEAVE AT 10AM? I DIDN’T HAVE WHEELS YET SO I’D WALK A MILE TO MARYLOU’S (MY ORDER: AN OREO COOKIE MONSTER WITH WHIPPED CREAM. CONSEQUENCE: INSTANT DIARRHEA) OR SUBWAY (SUBRAY (THAT’S THE NAME OF THE YOUNG MAN, RAY, WHO WORKED AT SUBWAY) KNEW MY ORDER BY HEART: HAM AND CHEESE ON ITALIAN (YES, THAT’S IT)).
NEBULIZER TIME IN FRONT OF THE TV. I HAD BAD ASTHMA WHICH SUCKED BUT I LOWKEY LOVED THE NEBULIZER AND FOUND IT RELAXING TO JUST KICK BACK WITH MY GAS MASK ON AND WATCH FLAVOR OF LOVE. THE NEBULIZER WAS SO LOUD THAT I WOULD HAVE TO LISTEN TO VH1 ON A VOLUME OF 40.
CRUSHES. I ALWAYS HAD INTENSE, MIND-CONSUMING CRUSHES. LOOKING BACK, I WAS DECENT LOOKING AND VERY FUNNY SO NOT SURE WHY MY CRUSHES WEREN’T RETURNED… I REMEMBER IN HIGH SCHOOL PINING AFTER A BOY FROM QUINCY WITH SNAKE BITE PIERCINGS. I READ HIS ONLINE JOURNAL EVERYDAY AND HOPED I WOULD BE FEATURED. I WAS NOT.
STEVE MADDEN SWEATER SLIPPER CLOGS: THE HOTTEST CHUNKY SLIPPER TO WEAR IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. NOT GREAT FOR GYM CLASS. ALSO, REMEMBER CHANGING FOR GYM CLASS (THAT’S NOT A THING ANYMORE)? I BASICALLY JUST WEAR 2025 ADULT VERSIONS OF THESE NOW.
WERE YOU LUCKY ENOUGH TO OWN A PAIR OF THESE SLIPPIES?
PAPER ROUTES. OK, I NEVER HAD ONE BUT I KNEW PEOPLE THAT DID. WHAT A WHOLESOME JOB TO RIDE AROUND ON YOUR BIKE AND THROW THE BOSTON GLOBE ON PEOPLE’S FRONT STEPS AS THE SUN ROSE. THE PAPER ROUTE LIFESTYLE WAS INTENSE BECAUSE ROUTERS HAD TO GET UP AT 4:30AM JUST SO MR. SCHMIDT COULD HAVE HIS PAPER WITH HIS 6AM COFFEE AND ENTENMANN’S CHEESE DANISH.
BEING THE BEST PLAYER ON THE WORST TEAMS. I WAS THE BEST BASKETBALL PLAYER ON THE “B TEAM” (NOT *BRAGGING*, JUST TRUTH) AND A DECENT TENNIS PLAYER ON A VERY NOT GOOD TEAM (WE WENT TO THE PLAYOFFS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 10 YEARS MY SENIOR YEAR AND THEN IMMEDIATELY LOST). LIKE A DISNEY MOVIE, MY GOAL WAS NEVER TO WIN, JUST TO HAVE FUN. I MISS THE VAN RIDES. HAVING BRIDGET FORCE FART ME ON A BENCH IN NORWELL BEFORE A MATCH. THE DAIRY QUEEN TRIPS ON MY COACH’S DIME. A COOKIE DOUGH BLIZZARD FOR ME AND THEY BETTER TURN IT UPSIDE DOWN.
ABOVE: A GRAINY PIC OF ME BEING A TENNIS STAR.
MANHUNT. WHAT WAS MORE THRILLING THAN A NEIGHBORHOOD-WIDE-HIDE-AND-SEEK IN THE DARK? I ALWAYS HAD FEAR RUNNING THROUGH MY VEINS. THERE WAS ALWAYS SOME DRAMA AND AN ANGRY PARENT.
MY NANA’S KITCHEN AND ITALIAN COOKIES. I DON’T RECALL MUCH ABOUT MY NANA. GROWING UP, I REMEMBER MY MOM TAKING MY BROTHER AND I TO VISIT HER ONCE OR TWICE A YEAR. WE’D ENTER HER HOME AND MY NANA WOULD BE SITTING IN THE KITCHEN. SMOKING A CIGARETTE. SHE’D ALWAYS OFFER ME A “TONIC” AND ITALIAN COOKIES. I’D NIBBLE ON THE SPRINKLED TREAT AND THINK “HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO STAY HERE FOR?”. I CAN’T LOOK AT A BAG OF ITALIAN COOKIES IN STOP & SHOP WITHOUT THINKING OF HER.
DRIVING AROUND LISTENING TO CDs. REMEMBER HAVING A BLACK LONG CD CASE IN THE BACK OF YOUR CAR? PROBABLY FILLED WITH MIX CDS THAT YOU HAD TASTEFULLY CURATED WITH TITLES LIKE “SOPHOMORE YEAR FALL EMO MIX”? MAYBE THERE WERE ALSO A FEW CDS YOU HAD STOLEN FROM YOUR PARENTS LIKE FLEETWOOD MAC’S GREATEST HITS (AN ICONIC ALBUM). I REMEMBER THE ONE TIME I WAS GROUNDED (EXCEPT IT WASN’T A REAL GROUNDING BECAUSE MY DAD STILL LET ME GO ANYWHERE I WANTED BECAUSE HE DIDN’T KNOW HOW GROUNDING WORKED//BUT I WAS STILL DISTRAUGHT) AND I DROVE AROUND IN MY DODGE INTREPID AND CRIED LISTENING TO INGRID MICHAELSON’S ALBUM, “EVERYBODY”. SPOTIFY DOESN’T HIT THE SAME.
NOSTALGIA FOR MISCELLANEOUS THINGS
COMMUTE WALKS
COLLEGE WALK: I HAD ONE NIGHT CLASS THAT WAS AT 6PM MY SENIOR YEAR. I DECIDED TO WALK THE TWO MILES EVERY NIGHT INSTEAD OF TAKING THE BUS AND DAMN, I LOVED THAT WALK. THAT WEEKLY WALK TAUGHT ME THAT WALKING IS A FORM OF THERAPY. THE CLASS WAS AN INTRO TO SOCIAL WORK CLASS, WHICH I TOOK ON A WHIM. ON THE FIRST DAY OF CLASS, THE INSTRUCTOR ASKED PEOPLE WHY THEY WERE TAKING THE CLASS. HALF OF THE STUDENTS SAID THEY WANTED THEIR “MSW”. I HAD NEVER HEARD OF AN “MSW”, AND WAS TOO SHY TO ASK WHAT IT WAS SO I HAD TO GOOGLE IT WHEN I GOT HOME. IT’S 10 YEARS LATER AND NOW I HAVE ONE OF THOSE.
WORK WALK: TO GET TO MY LAST JOB, I WALKED THROUGH THIS PRETTY LITTLE PARK AT 6:45AM EVERYDAY. THE PARK WAS ADORNED WITH BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS AND WAS HOME TO A CACOPHONY OF BIRDS. I REMEMBER ON ONE OF MY LAST DAYS OF WORKING THAT JOB I THOUGHT, “I LOVE THIS WALK. WHAT AN UNEXPECTED TREAT THIS HAS BEEN THE LAST TWO YEARS”.
I SUCK AT REMEMBERING TO TAKE PICTURES BUT HERE’S A PHOTO I FOUND OF THE “SOUTHWEST CORRIDOR” WALKWAY THAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. I LOVE HER.
CINNAMON TOAST. THE MOST NOSTALGIC BREAKFAST OF ALL TIME. A SLICE OF WONDER BREAD. COLD BUTTER THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO SPREAD AND IS REALLY JUST CHUNKY SHARDS. GRAB THE MCCORMICK SPICE JAR LABELED “CINNAMON” WITH “SUGAR” WRITTEN IN ILLEGIBLE SHARPIE MARKER (YES, THIS IS JUST WHITE SUGAR THROWN INTO CINNAMON). SHAKE THE CIN SUG MIXTURE LIBERALLY ON THE BREAD. BITE INTO IT FOR A TASTE OF HOME.
AN HONOR SYSTEM FARMSTAND. MY GRANDPA WAS A FARMER AND HAD A FARM IN OUR HOMETOWN. HE HAD A BUTTER COOKIE TIN AT THE STAND FOR PEOPLE TO LEAVE MONEY AND TAKE CHANGE. ONCE IN AWHILE, SOMEONE WOULD STEAL FROM HIM BUT HE DIDN’T REALLY CARE. HE JUST LOVED FARMING AND ZINNIAS AND ZUCCHINI AND FAMILY. WHEN I SEE ONE OF THESE FARMSTANDS, I THINK OF MY GRANDPA AND ALL OF HIS LOVE (AND WHEN HE’D TRY TO GIVE ME 5 CENTS TO TICKLE HIS FEET…).
ABOVE: MY LATE AND GREAT GRANDPA AL WITH HIS HOMEGROWN ZINNIAS.
BUGLES ON FINGERTIPS: ONE OF THE MOST FREEING AND FUN THINGS WE CAN DO AS HUMANS IS TO PUT THOSE POINTY BUGLES ON OUR FINGERTIPS AND EAT THEM OFF. I ALWAYS SMILE WHEN I SEE BUGLE FINGERS.
REDDIT KNOWS.
AND ONE DAY I’LL FEEL NOSTALGIC FOR ALL THE SEEMINGLY MUNDANE THINGS HAPPENING AROUND ME RIGHT NOW.
WHAT’S ON YOUR NOSTALGIA LIST?
LOVE & STUFF,
DIANA
Thanks for reading A THOUGHTLETTER! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I love and appreciate reading you. Thank you!