Random Memories

Sade, Smooth Operator

This song came out in 1985, I was 7 years old and I remember riding in my dad's blue pick up and hearing this song. It was a Saturday evening. He was humming, quietly for once, and we were on our way to the Lotus Garden, a small Chinese restuarant on the other side of town from us. I knew his order by heart, beef and broccoli, shrimp fried rice for me and my mom, an orange, and fortuune cookies for me.

I sat on the passenger side and there was no radio installed in the truck. He would either play his music from a tape recorder, or a bike radio. Now, bike radios look like this but they used to look like this. The radio would be propped up somewhere in the truck, usually on the seat in the middle. I remember listening to this song, and riding along Broad Street and seeing the Sauer's lights. At that time I felt like the city was so big, so bright. It probably took only about twenty minutes to get to the Lotus Garden from our house, but it felt like a long ride, like when you crossed over the bridge it was a different world. Everything is different at night though, usually falling into one of two extremes: really good or really bad. Chinese food, listening to Sade, and riding in that old blue truck was good, really good.
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Mos Def, Respiration

Now, DH (then my boyfriend) lived in that city, on that side of the city right on Broad, less than two blocks from Lotus Garden. And its different now, because the city that I thought was so big and bright now just looks dirty and tight. I feel boxed in, walking the streets I've walked for years, but no longer discovering anythign new or exciting about it.

Instead, what I discover is that people pee on the side of the Subway restuarant, its easy to shut down a city block when you think that floor polish smells like gas, people kill themselves and others in the middle of this street, and men with no legs sit and watch. Those nights were bad, but like Mos says, "You can feel the city breathing, chest heaving."And its true, on those nights the city fought for air, to try to catch its breathe, but there were nights where breathing did come easy.

At the Subway, we find owners who wash their hands, knives, and sandwhich board before they make our sandwhiches and make sure that we don't get no pork on our forks. We find old men who watch out and make sure don't no funny business go on in the buildings, and we also find each other. We are strong because we have to live in this city and we have to watch one another because we are still breathing.